Page 153 of Their Princess

It was weird for us to wear clothes like this, even if we wore them in a half-assed manner. I wished I hadn’t left my shit kickers upstairs either. Too late now.

I watched my reflection for a second before I remembered almost having Adelina in the elevator. I wanted her here—just us—with her ass pressed against the mirrors and her sweat leaving imprints. Or her bent over and holding onto the handrail for dear life as I plowed into her.

A camera blinked in the corner of the elevator. The lens pointed down at us. Yeah, I really wanted Adelina in this elevator, so her father could watch how I shoved my cock so deep into daughter’s sweet pussy. He could listen in on the pretty little squeals she would make.

Her responsiveness had surprised the shit outa me. I almost couldn’t believe she had been a virgin when I drove into her, except for how fucking tight her sheath had been. Keeping myself from blowing my load immediately had takenconcentration. And what I didn’t expect was to want her again so soon.

Apparently, I’d been foolish to think I could fuck her out of my system.

The bell dinged, and the elevator pulled to a graceful stop. Then the doors opened, and my brothers and I were on the prowl. The Parisi penthouse had been decorated with so many flowers the smell choked me. The long dining room table had been set with—Motherfucker, were there six forks? And three knives?

At least, I would have enough blades to stab someone if it came to that. I had brought my gun along, too, not trusting this place in the slightest after what happened to Cook.

The capos were already hulking around the edges of the room, eyeing us hesitantly, and my palm itched for my gun. While Graff had some nice shit to say about the capos they’d gone shopping with earlier, I didn’t trust them.

Nor did I trust Massimo or Rafe, who both stood behind me wearing black suits and ties. Why would I trust our new so-called brother when he had so easily fallen back into la Famiglia’s ways? It only went to show how he’d never really left.

On top of it all, I couldn’t let myself trust Adelina, no matter how good her pussy felt wrapped around my dick. That was how women dug in their claws.

“You made it,” said Massimo, walking out of the shadows. His smile was fake, same with how bright white his teeth were.

“Did you think we wouldn’t?” asked Wilde, and I nodded. The Prez played the game so much better than me.

“You can’t blame a man for having suspicions,” said Massimo, clasping his hands. “Although, this is a black-tie event, gentlemen.”

“You got us in slacks and button-downs.” Wilde checked us all over. “That’s formal as fuck for us.”

“Hmm.” Massimo straightened his own tie. “Well, perhaps my brother’s sense of style will wear off on you over time.”

Rafe grimaced.

“Don’t hold your breath,” I said to the Don and marched over to the wall of windows overlooking the strip.

I didn’t like how high up we were, or that we’d entered the den of a lion. Again. If shit went down, there would be no easy escape. Only bloodshed.

“Is there a problem?” asked Adelina, and I startled.

She caught me off guard and I jumped like a little bitch, turning on a heel like a horny preteen.

I rubbed the back of my neck and twitched my attention between the window I’d been looking out and my future wife. She wore this little dress that barely came to her mid-thigh, and it flared from her waist, making her curves kick harder than any outfit I’d seen her in thus far. The dress itself was white, strapless, and had a thick black band around the middle.

She wore her hair down in silky dark brown, nearly black waves. It shocked me how much it shone like the shimmering material around her waist.

I licked my lips at the thought of stripping her from the dress and fisting her hair again. Seeing what was hidden beneath made my mouth fucking water. Or maybe... she could keep the dress on. I already knew how gorgeous she was naked—her curves and her ample ass and hips. They made for perfect handles for thrusting.

It might be a little different if I just flipped that flared skirt up and buried my throbbing cock in her pretty little cunt.

I hadn’t gotten to her breasts, yet, but I would. She would be my wife—no matter how much I didn’t want a ball and chain—and every part of her would be mine.

“No problem,” said Massimo, smiling down at his daughter. “I was just welcoming the MC to our home for the evening.”

Adelina rolled her eyes. “Sure, Papà.”

Massimo dropped his jaw, like he was about to yell at her, and then I stepped forward.

No one would be yelling at my fiancé. Except me.

His eyes flashed, deadly and darkly, but I wasn’t scared of an aging man like him. No matter how much of a psychopath he was or his reputation for peeling the flesh from his live victims, my to-be father-in-law wouldn’t get under my skin.

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