Page 54 of Princess of the Mafia

He traced my slick lips. Up and down. Split them apart and traced in between.

A moan grated out of me like I’d pulled it out of the hot fire burning in the depths of hell, and it rode the palpable warm air riding between us.

His other hand on my ankle tightened, and his finger faltered.

Medda! Was he going to stop? Now? I didn’t even realize I’d done it, but I jerked my hips against his fingers like I was born to do it. When had I learned to do that? But it did the job because his finger was moving again.

My heartbeat pounded in my ears as the slickness of wetness swept through me. I was rocking my hips to his fingers, and I couldn’t get myself to stop, even if I wanted to. Then he pushed it further and pushed his finger inside me.

Oh my god!

My head rolled, my hair static on the couch and I bit my lip to cage that moan, but it slipped out of me with no control and no limit. He pushed like he was coming home from a long trip, and I welcomed him like I had missed his touch for innumerable years. One finger turned into two. He split me wide, and I didn’t care anymore about the sounds throttling out of me. Then he put a third finger in, and delusion overtook me. The fact that he looked like this was his lazy Sunday, and he was about to fall asleep on his afternoon nap, and I humped his fingers like a whore pitching for a bonus, upped the thrill of it.

My vision blurred like I was delirious from a fever. My body certainly burned from it. Trying to reach something, I didn’t know what. Sweat pooled underneath my breasts, and my nipples tightened in heat. My fingers gripped the white leather of his couch, and my eyes rolled back and, just like that, I fell into a place I’d never fallen before. Medda, it felt like paradise and I rode it out like I was riding a flying dragon.

My breath steamed, and my heartbeat slowed. Slowly I came back to earth as warm heat bristled on my skin. When my eyes popped open, Sicilian was still hanging in the air even though I knew I’d never hear it the same again.

His gaze was still on the screen as he slipped his hand out to the sound of my panties snapping back into place. It echoed as loud as a thick door closing. Worse was what he did next. He had to be vulgar about it. He put his fingers in his mouth, all three of them, and grated his lips along the veins in his fingers like he was having his favorite gelato on a hot summer night.

If that wasn’t the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

I didn’t know what I expected him to do. But it wasn’t to get up without a word and walk out of the room.

I sighed as I lazily stretched on the couch. Fulfilment like I’d never known before warmed my skin. I pulled the blanket over me and tossed and turned and somehow, over the course of the night, fell asleep.

But he must have come back for me later, because when I woke in the morning, I was back in his bed, and I knew I’d never sleep walked in my life.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

LORENZO

“Èa posto, Ale.” Her voice floated over to where I stood just behind the arch of the open-plan area. He’s alright? She’d moaned and ridden my fingers like a fucking porn star last night, and I was just alright?

Frustration clawed at my edges. When her juices soaked into the creases of my fingers and her moans echoed in the walls of my rib cage, I thought I’d taken ten steps forward to closing that fucking gap. Progress, I realized, was a delusion when I found myself in the shower, my hands fisting my cock to the tone of her grating voice. Fuck, I wanted more. Her skin lit up when she came. Like she was a falling star in the deep black sky. The constant knowledge of the color of her pussy and the hum of her voice zapped in my mind like an electric shock. An addiction called Daria had swept into my veins. Couldn’t get rid of it anymore. I wanted more. So much more, but I feared it was easier to shoot a hole in my chest than to get through this woman’s walls.

I rocked on the balls of my feet, eavesdropping on her call. Even if she’d not mentioned her brother’s ridiculously shortened name, I would have known it was her family on the other end. With them, she stuck to one-syllable names and kept her side of the story short. It wasn’t much in the way of entertainment, to be honest. With that friend of hers, who she called once a week, it was a completely different ball game. She described me in colorful rants and followed the alphabet studiously. On her last call, I realized she had reached the letter L. I heard her passionately refer to me as a lunatic loser who was filled with nothing but lies. I was assuming these lies were my future sins should I cheat on her.

“Sul serio, sto bene, Ale.”

Mild irritation prickled my nerves. Why did she have to fucking convince her brother she was okay? What the fuck did he think I was doing to her? My sins were all innocent with her. The darkest being ideas of laying her down on that desk she stroked like it was her lover and fucking her on it. I supposed, as a brother, he would frown upon that, but damn if it didn’t get my dick jerking.

“I’ll be off shopping, anyway. Like today.”

Liar. All she’d be doing was binge-watching her shitty shows filled with men who couldn’t hold up their dick if they tried. It hadn’t escaped my mind that the men in those series looked like that boy I’d killed with my bare hands. He was a far cry from me. I didn’t understand her fascination with blond men who looked like they’d never seen the sun under the rock where they’d been hiding. Or was she intent on picking the opposite of me? Animosity prickled at my edges, but it didn’t really matter. The only man in her life would be me.

Her soft laugh grazed the hair on my skin. “No, Mamma. As if he’d allow it. I’m going with a friend.”

Unease slithered along the floor and rode up my body. Who is her fucking friend? It took me less than a heartbeat to stride up to her. She was swinging her legs on the bar stool like a child on a joyride. I came to a stop right beside her. Her legs halted, and her shoulders tightened instantly.

Our eyes met as her mamma’s voice filtered through the phone. Something about New York being a big city for small girls. Don’t I know it? A frown of annoyance coasted through her forehead.

I pulled her phone from her hand and stuck it to my ear. “Non ti preoccupare, Mamma. I am not going to let my wife run around New York alone.”

It wasn’t the awkward pause on the other end that bothered me. It was the irritation on the face of the woman right in front of me.

Polite distaste edged the voice of my mother-in-law as she fought to hold a conversation with me. The dislike for me seemed to run in the family of Di Matteos, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I just wasn’t much of a fan of the clenched fist on the kitchen island and the stiffened lips staring back at me. So I hung up on her mother mid-sentence.

She gasped. “Sei un cretino! Did you just hang up on my Mamma?”

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