Page 50 of Texting My Mafia Savior

“Oh my God,” she moans quietly.

“We shouldn’t,” I growl, but my hand is already on her shorts, pulling them down, her underwear tangled up in my urgent fist.

“I know…”

But she’s not stopping me. In fact, she’s wriggling out of her shorts and underwear, shifting from side to side as if she’s desperate to be as close to me as she can get. She needs my nakedness as urgently as I need hers.

Once her bottoms are off, she rolls over and tugs at my boxers. I grab them, then lean up on my shoulders so that I can pull them down. She moans as she wraps her hand around my naked length. I bite down, almost roar, almost howl. She makes me unhinged.

“You’re big,” she whispers, as her hand strokes up and down from my tip to my base, making my entire length slick with my precome. “I’m a virgin, remember?”

“I’ll be gentle,” I tell her, but my tone says otherwise. It’s husky. It’s savage.

“Be my savior,” she whispers, moaning as she strokes. “Be—be nice.”

I roll on top of her, reaching down between our bodies to grab my cock, then guid myself to her entrance. She stares up at me with those gorgeous, wide, almost shocked eyes, like she can’t believe what we’re doing, can’t believe how good it feels. I’m right there with her.

Minutes ago, I was telling her we could just hold each other. That was it. But now…

I feel a moment of her soaked hole, her pussy kissing my end. But then, her dad’s voice—“Arria?”

I stop and pull away. Even now, though, I want to keep going. I want to drive my cock deep inside her tight, virgin slit. I want toglide inside so she knows we go way beyond texting and knows she’s mine.

“Arria?”

The sound of a door creaking. Not mine, one down the hall. Just that word,mine, suddenly feels foolish. What am I even thinking? It’s her heat, her closeness, just her. She makes me feel drunk. She makes thinking logically impossible.

I pull away, shaking my head. “You need to leave. What are we doing?”

She sits up. I can tell that hearing her dad’s voice has jolted her from whatever craziness has taken hold of her, just like it has with me.

“I arranged pillows on my bed before I left,” she murmurs. “To look like I was sleeping.”

I almost laugh. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah…”

The door makes a creaking noise again. I hear her father’s footsteps walk down the hallway. There’s another creaking noise, presumably as he goes into his bedroom. She sits up, reaching for her shorts. I have to stand and go to the window. Otherwise, I’ll pounce on her again. My dick is still rock-solid, the tension surging up my shaft, my balls feeling so goddamn full.

“How are you going to tell Lucy about our plan?” she asks, changing the subject.

“Tomorrow, during the divorce proceedings, I’ll get a message to her.”

“And then it’ll be up to us.” She wriggles into the shorts and walks around the bed. I turn, facing her. She looks so determined. “Lucy and I will bring them to you, and you’ll…”

She shudders. I rush to her, grip her shoulders, lean down and kiss her. Hard. With fiery passion. She throws her arms around me and squeezes on tightly. I’m sure I can feel her eager nipples poking through her shirt. Her heart pounds against me, our tongues caressing, the pleasure expanding between us.

“How can I be sosure?” she whispers, digging her fingernails into my arms and staring up at me. Her eyes glisten like she might cry, but it might just be the semidarkness. “We’ve texted more than talked…”

“Maybe that’s how,” I tell her. “By texting, we haven’t let self-consciousness hold us back. We haven’t been able to rely on the physical aspect. Through our texts, we’ve shown the most truthful versions of ourselves, Arria.”

“You’re so romantic,” she whispers, leaning up and kissing me again.

“Nobody’s ever called me that before.”

“Good. That means I get to be your first, too.”

I grab her waist, gently pushing her away. “You have to go. We’ve already had one close call.”

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