Page 44 of Triplets for the Mafia Prince

I shove the sweatpants down my hips, my dick springing free, red, engorged, and pissed off.

“Wrap your hand around it and stroke,” I growl, angry at my inability to stop this. I fucking need it like I need my next breath.

She does as I direct. Her warm hand encases my dick and slowly moves. I arch back, a mixture of heaven and torture cracking through my system.

“Faster,” I instruct through gritted teeth.

Her pace picks up, but it’s not enough. “Tighter… faster.” My hips move, bucking up, fucking her hand. I do not understand why I feel like I might die. Her touch feels so raw… real… electric. I’ve had my fair share of women. Fucking has always been satisfying even if it was just quick, efficient release. Like scratching an itch. Then it was done. Forgotten.

This… with Bella… it’s fucking with my mind. Her presence fills more than just physical space. Her genuine care when I was injured, her quick wit in our literary debates, the way she challenges me… it's all tangled together.

My chest tightens when she looks up at me with those questioning gray eyes, seeking approval. I realize that the physical sensations are intense, but it's the emotional resonance that threatens to overwhelm me. It’s like she’s tethered to my very being.

“Can I lick it?”

I groan as torturous need ratchets up. “Jesus…”

She must decide I’m answering in the affirmative as she leans over. Her long hair cascades down. Her tits sway. Her tongue laves over my tip, and holy hell… I come completely apart.

“Fuck… Bella…” I want to save her the embarrassment of having my cum spray in her face, but it’s too late. I buck up, cum blasting out.

She lets out a small squeal but doesn’t let up. Her hand continues to stroke me, milk me, as my release goes on and on.Her eyes are fascinated as she watches me come. As my dick shrinks again, she wipes her face with her hand and then tastes my cum. And fucking hell, my dick twitches again at witnessing her taste me.

It takes me a minute to recover, at least physically. Mentally, I’m a mess. I want to claim this woman in every way possible, and that scares the shit out of me. I’m already vulnerable caring for Gia and the kids. I can’t open myself up to more.

“Let me get a towel.” I jump out of bed, yanking my sweats up and practically sprinting to the bathroom, feeling like a pussy as I run from Bella, the kind, sweet, innocent woman who’s gotten a grip on my soul. She’s dangerous to me and doesn’t even know it.

I give myself a minute to clean up and then return with a towel. She’s lying naked in bed, looking sated and pleased with herself. She is so goddamn beautiful. My chest squeezes hard, and I realize that I’m in big, big trouble.

“Sorry about the mess.” I hand her the towel.

“Why? Isn’t that how this works?” She speaks so matter-of-factly as she wipes her face and chest clean of my cum.

“Yes, but I don’t know if you were expecting that.”

She rolls her eyes as she tosses the towel back to me. “Just because I haven’t done it, doesn’t mean I don’t know how it all works.”

I sit on the bed, unable to leave her even though I feel like I should. I did my part. I gave her an orgasm. Now it’s time to put distance between us.

She tilts her head. “I also know how sex is really supposed to go. Why didn’t you?—”

“That’s a step that shouldn’t be taken under the influence of desire.” I can’t believe I’m saying that. But at this moment, with Bella, I believe it. When she gives up her virginity, it should be toa man who deserves it and the decision should be made before things get hot and heavy.

She rolls her eyes. “Men can be so weird around sex.”

“How many men have you talked to about sex?” I’ll kill them all.

“Just when I was in high school and what Ava has told me. And Mom, although she made it sound gross.”

I’m completely intrigued. “Did you find it gross?”

“Nope.” She stretches out that long, curvaceous body of hers and my dick takes notice. “I liked it. Did you?”

“The evidence is all over that towel.” I lie down next to her. She snuggles against me, and it feels nice. She yawns. We lie together in the quiet, and a few minutes later, she’s asleep.

A week ago, she was just my father's young bride-to-be. Now, lying here beside me, she's become something else entirely. Something dangerous to my carefully constructed walls. Something I should give up for both our sakes. If I were any sort of man, I’d be the one sneaking away.

Instead, I continue to lie beside her. Memories of her gentle hands tending my wound, her voice reading Jane Austen, the way she stood up to me even when afraid, flash through my mind.

---