Page 13 of Mafia King's Surprise Baby

Please don’t say it was a mistake.

“I didn’t ask for your consent,” she says. “Again.”

Oh, sweet Bianca. Don’t you know I’m yours?

A burst of warmth in my chest unfurls through my whole body, and I’m smiling, a small laugh pouring out of me. My hand hardens ever so slightly on her jaw as I make her tip her head up to look at me.

“You had it then. You have it now, too.”

Her hand comes up, warm and soft when it cradles my cheek, mirroring mine on her.

It’s such a light touch, it’s almost ephemeral, but nothing has ever held so much weight in my life. Nothing has ever anchored me like her palm unfurled along my jaw.

Her eyes have gone soft, liquid pools of brown that remind me of molten chocolate. Sweet, decadent, sinful under certain conditions. Just like her. She reminds me of the virgin and the Jezebel, the saint and the sinner.

Protect and plunder.

Cherish and ravish.

“You never judge me,” she says softly.

“And I never will.”

Who am I to judge her? She has always been her own person,flown her freak flag freely when she was younger. Bianca had never bothered with rules of propriety and subservience. When her peers were turning into simpering sluts ready to please the first fucker who threw them a compliment, she remained true to herself—take her or leave her, exactly as she was.

She blinks at me, slowly, so languidly.

“If only you could see me, Leo…”

I frown. “I see you.”

“Really?” she asks, the word barely a whisper. “Do you?”

There’s despair as much as there’s a challenge in that question, and I so want to tell her how much I do see her. The woman she’s become, beautiful and alluring. The young girl at the heart of her, carefree and uncompromising on her own values. The person who dances to her own tune, the beat of her own drum. The human with compassion and gentleness running in her blood.

Yet, there’s also the Mafia daughter and sister, the pawn of aBorgata, a commodity of the organization.

My other hand comes up, cradling her face in my palms.

“If only you could see yourself as I see you, Bianca.”

Her breath hitches as her lips part, nostrils flaring slightly. The tip of her tongue darts out, running over her top lip.

An image of her doing the same thing to the head of my cock flashes inside my mind, and I curse.

“How do you see me, Leo?” she asks, tone low and sultry, a sirensong wrapping its powerful mist of oblivion over me.

“Bianca…”

“Tell me,” she adds. “Show me.”

I close my eyes and try to reason with myself. I have to resist. This here, this is as close as I can get to her, ever.

When I open them and my gaze lands on her face, I realize it was a mistake to do so. Because one look at her and I’m a goner. Her eyes are hooded, gaze languid, her features already bathed in the soft slackness of arousal. Her skin is hot under my palms, the heat traveling straight to my cock to fan the flames bursting from the burning coals of my desire.

When she smiles next, it’s ever so slightly crooked.

So it’s real. She’s really smiling. Mission accomplished.

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