Page 61 of Secret Baby for the Italian Mafia Don

“I got it,” he answers, so sweetly it hurts in my chest.

“You really are brain-damaged,” I whisper, angry at how flustered he makes me.

“Probably,” he agrees, too easily. His words may be a little slow, his thoughts delayed, but those eyes are sharp—and they don’t leave me. I crawl over him, straddling myself carefully on his waist.

“What are you doing?” he asks, tense, as my hands go to his jeans.

“Distracting you.”

He tenses as I undress him the rest of the way, bringing down those designer boxers. His cock is telltale, already half-hard at just the prospect of me undressing him. I take him in my hand, stroking him slowly. He breathes raggedly, wincing as his hand twitches over his side.

“Ava,” he warns me thickly.

“What’s the matter?” I ask lowly, mimicking him. “Afraid it’s going to hurt?”

His response twitches in my hand, his cock hard and straining. He curses me lowly, throwing his head back into the pillow as our roles reverse. I lick my palm and work him up with the slow, soft pump of my hand, no sudden movements. He swallows hard, struggling to breathe through the pain.

“Is this the part where I call you a good boy?” I ask.

Nico winces harder than he laughs, and he’s still trying not to laugh when he calls me a bitch. I kiss the insult out of his mouth. He takes me by the hips, trying to take charge as he guides me over him, but I take his hands and gently pin them back to the bed, the way he would do for me.

“Fuck,” Nico breathes, his eyes dark, his cock throbbing as it hangs heavy and swollen between us. I ease down, taking him between my legs as I slide onto him. His eyes stare through the pain, the sweat glistening on his temple as I test his limits.

I take him deep, moving slowly, knowing that the slightest sudden movement will do more harm than good. The pace burns so, so slow—slower than we’ve ever done it, every motion dragged out for everything it’s worth. His teeth grit, pain tensing in his expression even as his hips roll slowly up into me.

I ride him like the gentle waves on the ocean, the pleasure a counterpoint to his pain.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “I thought—I thought you fucking hated it slow.”

I gaze down at him, unable to tell him that there really is no more damage either of us can do to me now. He’s done it. It’s inside me now, and I can’t undo it. All I want is the one thing I can’t get anywhere else—a tiny sliver of control over this. Overhim. He snarls with wanting, needing more, tossing his head back into the pillow as I torture him with pleasure.

Even when it hurts him, Nico can’t resist. I gasp, stunned, as Nico takes my hips in his hands and rolls up into my body. He’s usually quiet, everything he feels translated into breaths and growls, but now he cries out with his own pain as he rolls his hips up into me, bouncing me on that huge cock until my thighs shake.

He really is insane.

I don’t know if Nico is playing me. I don’t know if I’m his pawn in a bigger game. But I do know one thing with full, simple certainty—thisis real. Nico will take the pain if it means getting his hands on my body and his cock between my legs. That knife pressing into his chest wasn’t him just showing off and making a show of it. He means it.

He warned me, over and over, that I would eventually learn who he was. That one day, I would believe that nothing would stop him from having me. I thought he meant I couldn’t stop him, or the family, or the world. But with Nico sweating and groaning under me, gasping as he rockets pain through his chest just to fuck my cunt, I realize maybe Nico even meant himself. Maybe he can’t stop either, even if he wants to.

It burns me up inside.

All this, and hestillwon’t choose me over his place in the family.

I take him by the throat and ride him hard, our eyes meeting, my hips twisting until the burn aches in my muscles. We both curse as Nico finally pushes up hard and finishes with a ragged, broken sound.

It feels karmic in a way, running my hand over Nico’s chest and watching him come down from the pain, cursing with every other breath as his chest shudders. The only difference is, I don’t think Nico needs to be coddled through the aftermath the way he did for me.

“I changed my mind,” he rasps into the quiet. “You would have been a shitty nurse.”

“You and I both know this is the best medicine for you.”

I bend over him and kiss him, a slow, languid kiss that never seems to end, like a long summer day. My belly flutters softly as I think about having this man’s baby inside me. If the world wasn’t so complicated, full of guilt and remorse and rules—there’s a sheer, animal pleasure to giving a man a child, especially a man like him. He is everything my lizard brain says that I should want.

Nico sighs into the quiet, his eyes closing. The painkillers are starting to do their job. This time, I don’t curl up next to him and put my head on his shoulder, keeping a careful distance. But Nico still wraps his hand around my arm, like he can’t stand the thought of me slipping away from him.

The silence settles heavily into the room.

“What if I really do get pregnant, Nico?” I ask into the sudden quiet. Drugged up and post-sex high, I don’t think I have a better chance to ask him about it and get away with it. “What would you do?”

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