Page 18 of Heartless Mafia Prince 2: Rocco & Ryah

He shed his clothes as I ripped off the silk PJ set.

“Tonight, let’s forget about the outside world,” I murmured, as he hovered over me.

Gripping his tousled dark hair, my lips parted as his huge cock filled me.

“Fuck, Spencer.” I rocked with him as he thrusted into me. He was the best I ever had. Spencer knew my body, inside and out.

No other guy cared enough to learn about my body the way he did. Spencer flipped me over, tugged my hair, and slammed his rock-hard cock into my pussy. I felt every pleasurable inch.

Still gripping my hair, his lips grazed my earlobe. “You’ll never forget me. I was the first man to have you,” he growled.

Spencer was right. He was my first everything. All the other flings we had in between meant nothing. We traveled the world together. I could be the carefree girl I wanted to be when I was with him. Tomorrow that would all change.

“I’ll never forget how you claimed every inch of my body with your mouth and owned my pussy with your cock.”

Each time he circled his dick, I felt my orgasm rise.

“Fuck, Spencer, I’m coming,” I moaned.

Pulling my sweaty, limp body against his muscled chest, he pounded into my quivering core.

“I love you, Rosetta. I’ll never stop loving you.”

My eyes squeezed shut so hard, I saw fucking stars. You knew you could never have him. Bury him down deep in your heart.

Turning my head, I met his sad, blue-eyed gaze. “You’ll always be my first and only love, Spencer.”

He held me in his arms all night. Early in the morning, he planted a kiss on my lips. “I’ll see you April fourteenth.”

My eyes popped open as I heard the door open. I stared at his back as he walked out of my life. Donovan knew to protect him.

Later that morning I stood in the mirror, smiling at the embroidered white gown that clung to my body.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

Donavan stepped into view. “He’s safe.”

Shivers struck my body, and I felt my legs give out. Donavan wrapped his arms around me. Our gray eyes met in the mirror. “Become the Donna your father always wanted you to be.”

I inhaled sharply, trying to hold back the tears.

“Rosetta, sii forte. Be strong,” he stated in Italian.

Holding my head high, a smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

“Thank you, Donavan.”

He was the only man I trusted with all of my secrets.

Three days before my trip to Italy, I heard a woman yelling.

I sprang up from my seat at the kitchen counter, abandoning my piping hot cup of coffee.

“Why couldn’t this business arrangement be stress free? Instead, it came with a whining bitch,” I grumbled, as I stalked to the front door.

Swinging it open, my eyes fell on her. “What the fuck do you want, Melanie?”

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