Page 84 of Secret Baby for the Italian Mafia Don

She reaches farther than before—fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, all in rapid-fire succession. Her head falls back, her eyes staring without seeing. She’s so fucking close, barely hanging on, the numbers a whisper on her lips.

She’s right there.

“Twenty, Twenty-one!”

I stop one short, catch the girl up in the fine print that leaves her stunned and breathless, her hands still helplessly bound in limbo. She cries out, her legs shaking and arms frozen above her. I wrench open her thighs and bury my face between her legs, reward that sweet, obedient cunt with my tongue. I greedily mouth her clit, my lips and tongue working against it, fast and feather-light after the hard, stinging slaps.

The orgasm Ava has been fighting for finally crests and breaks inside of her. It spills from her mouth in a moan, drips from her cunt in a tiny bead of wet arousal that sinks into the sheets. I land the final smack against her spent cunt and finish the count for her.

“Twenty-two.”

Her hands rip away from the ribbon and seize me, pulling me into a hungry kiss. It burns through me, eclipsing me in how hot and desperate it is.

“I’m sorry,” she gasps against my lips. “I’m so sorry.”

I don’t know what she’s apologizing for. The birthday, the lingerie, her orgasm. Whatever it is, I put her back onto the bedsheets, spread her legs, and unzip my pants. I spend thenight forgiving Ava with my cock, and for the first time, she begs me to be gentle, to go easy.

She lets me make love to her until the clock strikes twelve and her birthday is over.

23

Ava

Like two high schoolers sneaking around after curfew, Nico and I tiptoe into the foyer, where he recklessly pins me in the entryway of the dark mansion and kisses me breathless. I shush him, begging him to be quiet. The man’s mouth is going to be the death of me, though I haven’t figured out how he’s going to use it to kill me yet. His words, his lips, his tongue. It’s a multi-purpose weapon of mass destruction, and its primary function is undoing me in every way possible.

The foyer may be empty, but the house itself feels alive, a silent witness as we careen through the dark together. Nico doesn’t care.

“If I had my way,” he breathes, “I’d take you over Salvatore’s desk and burn that lingerie right there in his fireplace.”

I silently allot another point into thewordscategory.

“Don’t,” I say sharply, before he can convince me it’s a good idea. I’m already halfway there.

It’s safer for everyone if Nico can’t speak at all, so I kiss him to the point of distraction. I tempt him toward my room, luring Nico from the siren song of bad ideas with the only thing that will make him listen.

“Your birthday present is in my room,” he says, barely willing to break the kiss.

“My room’s closer,” I argue. “And I thought you already gave me my birthday present.”

He laughs lowly.

“You can have that any day of the year.”

But true to his nature, Nico follows me like a magnet chasing north until I put a closed door between us and the rest of the house.

There’s still a part of me that’s devastated, knowing that the future is dark and complicated and that he probably won’t be there with me, but that makes it easier to fall into this—into the present, where there’s nothing but Nico and wild, hot pleasure, and late nights, and sneaking footsteps through the house.

Maybe this is only fair. Maybe it’s payback for my perfect reputation as agood girlas a teenager, never sneaking out or fooling around with boys. Maybe all girls are eventually doomed to hide a man in their bedroom, and mine just came surprisingly late.

Even spent and inebriated, Nico still pins me down on the bed and tears off my lingerie one piece at a time. He throws it onto the floor like trash until I’m stretched out naked under him, but I’m too exhausted to want anything except his arms and his soft kisses and deep sleep.

He runs his admiring hands over my body. My skin is pink and welted, aching softly at his touch.

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“I can’t help it,” he says. “I don’t know how to keep my hands off you.”

He kisses me again, with no urgency now. Slow, self-contained kissing. Kissing for the sake of itself, with no road beyond it. Finally, Nico settles against me. He wraps me in his arms, where I feel the swell of every breath in his muscled chest. But that doesn’t stop the words, the dark confessions that he mutters against my ear,

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