Page 30 of Secret Baby for the Italian Mafia Don

The angry truth whispers from my lips before I even know it myself.

“Because that’s nothing like howhewould have done it.”

I’m surprised I can even bring Vinny up here in this room, in this moment. But Nico has asked for the uncensored truth, and for some reason, I feel compelled to obey him. To give him whatever he asks for, even if I don’t want to. Maybe it’s just another form of helplessness, another way to let him tear into me. Body and mind. Nothing off limits.

The room is too quiet. My own heart becomes audible in my ears.

I wonder if he’s reconsidering. If I’ve answered wrong, and now he’s going to change his mind. When he lets me go, I miss his bruising touch. Nico slips my knife out of his pocket, the metalcatching the light, but I don’t move. I stay rooted in place, an obedient lamb gazing at the butcher, even as he brings the knife to my body.

He drags the smooth, cold threat up my thigh, making me shiver.

The smooth ripping of fabric fills the room as with one steady slice, Nico drags the blade through my dress. The knife skirts centimeters from my skin, but he’s careful and methodical, sliding the blade upward until the sleeveless dress opens up. I let it fall onto the ground at our feet.

The flat of the blade comes to rest against my throat. My pulse thumps against it, but also lower, hammering fast between my legs.

He presses me back into his arms and holds the knife taut to my skin.

“You like it, don’t you? My fearless girl,” he whispers, kissing my soft throat until the skin blushes hot. “I could cut you to ribbons, and you wouldn’t even flinch. You’d let me have whatever part of you I wanted.”

“That’s the deal,” I answer.

He chuckles. “Deal’s got nothing to do with it.”

He steps around me, drags the dull edge of the blade around my collarbones and my back, taking in every angle as if I’m an art piece. The appreciation leers in his dangerous gaze.

“You have no idea what you’re giving away to him.”

Suddenly, Nico pushes me back. I stumble over my heels. I catch myself on the floor, my legs half-spread open. Without missing a beat, Nico wedges himself between them. He’s all over me suddenly, pinning me down with his sheer size.

The primal instinct in the back of my mind surges with adrenaline at the feeling of a man on top of me. His weight is twice mine, his strength effortless in keeping me under him even when I squirm.

He places the blade against my skin. I go still and mute, dark thoughts of what he plans to do with it playing in reels behind my eyelids. My arousal burns like a fuse. With a slow, steady hand, he draws small white X’s over my body, top to bottom. I hiss as the blade scrapes my skin but never truly cuts it, the shallow lines turning pink and angry. Nico carves out the parts of me he wants with an actual blade, like I am his treasure map, and it makes me wild and hungry for more of him.

My fantasies darken like a growing storm. Maybe he’ll push the knife a little deeper. Maybe he’ll draw out his devotion all over my body. Leave scars for my husband to find and complain about when I am not his perfect trophy wife.

Nico stretches me out on the marble floor and ravishes my body in kisses, following the path he marked. My neck, my breasts, the slope of each collarbone. He follows the path slowly, meticulously, not missing a single part of me that he’d like to take into his mouth.

I thought kisses were soft and loving. They are the antithesis of everything I want. But God,thesearen’t. Even kisses, Nico makes violent and possessive. A statement of ownership. He works his way down, sucking and biting vicious love bites intomy skin until my toes curl and my legs thrash. The knife was nothing compared to what he can do with his mouth, given enough time, enough steady, worshipful attention.

“Aah—”

Nico teases my nipple until my eyes sting. Its twin stands stiff and neglected, begging for him to come torture her the same way.

Whenever I can’t stand it anymore, when the heat is too good or the spot too painful, Nico moves to the next, restarts the vicious cycle until I tingle and ache all over.

Stopandmorerun up against each other, and the sounds tumbling from my lips even confuse me. Without a single hit of his hand, Nico leaves me black and blue, with tears of satisfaction stinging behind my eyes. I endure it. And I love every hot, painful minute of his attention.

He reaches my belly, my pelvis, follows the natural directions of my body. He drags his teeth along the V-shaped dips of my hips that point him toward my pussy like road signs.

“There she is,” Nico mutters, taking me by the knees and pushing open my thighs. I spread open under him. He cups the soft rise of my pussy in one huge hand. “There’s my neglected little girl.”

He swipes his fingers against my slit, stretching and teasing it.

For the first time, someone else has their hands on my pussy, and those hands know all too well what they’re doing.

“Listen,” Nico whispers low, running his fingers in wet, audible circles. I’m soaked already, my hunger throbbing in a tiny point nestled between my legs. “She’s been waiting for me.”

A whimper falls from my lips.

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