Page 64 of Princess of the Mafia

I pushed myself in slowly, inch by inch, until I was finally completely sucked in. I stilled and brushed her hair off her face. My balls were thick and pulsed heavily. A thin veil of sweat dusted her forehead. My muscles on my forearms strained from the effort.

“You like it?” I asked gruffly. It was hard to be sweet when my dick was near explosion.

She nodded vigorously.

“What do you want to do now?”

Her eyes went big, and I realized how innocent she really was. “Can I move?” I rasped.

“Yes, please.”

Fuck, the ‘yes’ would have been good enough, but the ‘please’ grabbed my nuts in a fist. I pulled out slowly and rocked right back in over and over and watched the play of emotions light up her face. The flush rising up her cheeks, the shallow breaths out of her mouth. Her legs came up and wrapped behind my back. Here I had thought she would be a doll. But she was as much a participant as I was, and damn, it sent adrenalin coasting through my balls.

“Who’s fucking you, Principessa? I muttered.

Her eyes rolled as she slithered under me. I grabbed hold of a handful of hair and yanked her head. “Who’s fucking you now?”

“You.”

“That’s right. Me. What’s my name?”

She looked like I had grown a fucking horn on my head. Couldn’t bring myself to care. “Lorenzo…” she muttered, hesitation on her lips like she wasn’t sure if the answer she had given was the right one. It wasn’t. But I’d live with it for the time being.

So I pulled her close and fucked her hard. Fucked her till she came screaming in my arms. Fucked her till she went limp in my arms. Fucked her till she screamed my name out of her lungs. Only then did I empty my balls and burst my cum into fucking plastic. It was not a moment too soon. A second was already more than I could bear.

CHAPTER THIRTY

DARIA

“Fuck!”

My eyes popped open to a room filled with the late morning sunshine. Even if the ache in my thighs and the stiffness between my legs wouldn’t have reminded me, the crushed sheets and the musty smell in the room gave it away. There was a siren hanging in the air. It screamed sex and husband as one line. I had gone and lain underneath him. On top of him, too. Next to him, too. All very willingly.

He was hot. Sex was hot. How else had I survived sleeping through the night in nothing but the skin I was born with? Not that there was any actual sleeping. Medda. He was a beast. He had devoured me like he would die if he didn’t. I ignored the tingle in my veins that told me I kind of liked it.

My eyes skidded to the man himself pacing the room with his back to me in black boxer shorts, his hair tousled, and a phone pasted to his ear. The intimacy of the situation heated my goosebump-ridden skin.

It was all very bare. Too naked. I tried to move the sheets to cover my breasts by subtly wiggling beneath them. Couldn’t have been that subtle. Because the first tug pulled the attention of a fiery set of eyes along with it. I halted. My nipples, still sticking out, were hard pink peaks next to crisp ivory sheets. Heat inched from top to toe like the slow burner of infrared heat.

His gaze shimmered, and his tongue slithered on his teeth, and somehow, I felt it riding all the way to my core. Memories of all the places his tongue had licked imploded, with image after image, in an imaginary slide show.

Wry amusement tilted his mouth. No doubt he read the direction of my mind.

But the next instant, his gaze glowered. “Not coming now.”

I blinked. It wasn’t directed at me. I grabbed the sheet and pulled it up to my neck. A tug, a whoosh, and it was yanked off me. Cold air and a hot gaze touched me as I let out a yelp just as his fingers came to his lips to silence me.

I sat up to pull the sheet off the end of the bed.

“Fine, Massimo. You fucking owe me one.”

A thump, and the phone landed on the bed. He crawled up on it, pulled me in, and popped me between his thighs. His scruff nuzzled its way from my collarbone to my breasts. A nipple found its way to his mouth. A lusty growl rumbled off his body as his finger found my core. “Fuck, you’re wet.”

He was possessive and all over me. He was rough and arrogant. It should have turned me off. But damn if it wasn’t hot. I wanted to rock against him. But when a thick finger entered me, an unwilling whimper left my body, and I stiffened in his arms. His hand stilled, and he pulled his gaze up to my face. “You sore, Principessa?”

I bit my lip. His thickness against me told me he wanted to fuck again. I gave a shake of my head.

He scowled. “Why are you lying to me?”

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