Page 31 of Secret Baby for the Italian Mafia Don

Thick fingers scrape over my aching clit and the yearning kicks into overdrive. It’s so much. Too much. My wanting for Nico becomes aneed. I sit up, pulling at his shirt, desperate to get it off him. I want him naked, want him skin to skin with me. My eagerness catches him off guard, and he pushes me back onto the floor with one hand.

The breath knocks out of my lungs, and the knife wavers near my throat. Nico clicks his tongue at me.

“You didn’t sayplease.” He drags the knife down between my legs. “Don’t forget who’s in charge, darling,” he says, pressing the cold, flat edge of the blade against my cunt.

“Nico—” I gasp, on sheer reflex, my body tightening. The temperature is jarring, burning skin against ice-cold steel. Pleasure and fear pulse between my legs at the sensation.

Nico’s mouth tilts as he plays with me in the most obscene way, swiping the blade up slowly over my clit until the pressure makes me see stars. I fight to keep myself still, muscles shaking with the effort.

Finally, he snaps the folding knife shut. I reach for my clit, desperate to follow up, but Nico doesn’t allow it.

“No,” he says, sharp and sudden as he grabs me by the wrist. “You don’t touch things that don’t belong to you.”

Before I can try to convince him of the merits of joint custody of my pussy, Nico takes it fully for himself. He smacks my pussy hard. A bolt of sensation cracks right up my core. He follows it up by burying his head between my legs. His hands grip around my thighs, keeping my squirming legs open. My mouth opens in a silent sound as this gorgeous man has his lips all over my clit, delving his tongue into the depths of my aching pussy.

It feels good. It feels so fucking good, it sparks a panic inside my head.

His name breaks from my lips, begging, but he doesn’t heed it. He keeps going, swirling his tongue in soft circles around my clit. When he puts the slightest pressure, my body kicks like a shot pistol.

“Hurt me,” I beg him. “Nico, hurt me.”

I need it.

He strips down my defenses with the little flicks of his tongue. He finds all my soft weaknesses and draws them out with his lips. I watch him through watering eyes, whimpering. The way he moves below me, full of certainty—pure confidence as he showers me in his unrelenting devotion. Like a lover.

It wasn’t supposed to be this good. He wasn’t supposed to take care of me.

“Nico,please—”

He kisses my cunt sweetly in answer. I suck my lower lip in as the pleasure cracks through me like a whip. I’m too close.

I try to pull away from him, scrambling back from the roiling heat. It’s sucking me in like a whirlpool, no pain to set the balance, to make it alright.

Nico catches me. He grips my hips and pulls me right back to him.

“Get back here,” he growls. A moan breaks from my lips as he doubles his efforts. He finds the rhythm that drives me to the edge and punishes me with waves and waves of hot, mounting pleasure. It twists inside me to a sharp, blinding point. Tension locks in my thighs. I am a breath away from coming and a breath away from sobbing, and I don’t know which one will hit first.

“I can’t do this,” I hear myself cry out.

Nico has pushed me right to the ledge, and suddenly, I’m terrified of falling into that pleasure.

“Nico, I can’t!”

He doesn’t care.

Unless I call off the deal, he’ll make me. He’s brought me to the edge and he’s going to push me over.

He drags me down to him and catches us in a searing kiss. His fingers shudder relentlessly around my clit, messily churning it until my hips lift off the floor and my thighs shake.

He kisses me until the pleasure tears through me like a hurricane. I can’t stop it. It rips through everything that I am, barreling through me, hot and wild. Our kiss falls apart.

I come for Nico Mori, and I come hard. Orgasm twists in my belly. My pussy, my thighs, my throat, all clench and spasm. Forehead to forehead, eye to eye, I cry out for him as my pleasure blazes hot and pink in my face.

He watches me as if the humiliating face I’m making is the best thing he’s ever seen.

“How does it feel?” he whispers against my lips, “Coming for another man?”

…Good.

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