Page 2 of Secret Baby for the Italian Mafia King

“Please.” I twist against his grip.

“Careful,” he warns, with a flash of teeth before he drags them against my chin, nipping me, “I could get used to hearing you beg.”

My stomach flutters weakly for him. I like the way my wrists feel in his hands. His fist tightens in my hair as he makes his way back to my mouth.

“Please,”I whisper again, ignoring his warning.

His hand goes to my jaw, his fingers tight and firm.

I search his face, my breath heaving. His growl drops low and hungry, his hands sliding to my hips as he pulls me down flush against his body. The straining curve of his cock throbs between the fabric of our clothes.

I gasp sharply at the pressure of it.

“Come here, and let me finally make you mine,” he says.

As if I haven’t been his all this time.

Clothes are shed urgently. The room only seems to get hotter as the layers come off. He fondles me, my bra clasps snapping open and letting him fully drink in my cleavage. I curl my fingers in his hair as he works his way down my body, his hands and mouth touching my straining nipples.

It’s my first time, but it isn’t his. It shows. Unlike me, Ren doesn’t hesitate. He isn’t unsure, isn’t holding his breath like I am. He brings that dark energy that got him through that ugly family business right here to the bedroom and pins me to the mattress with it. Anything Ren wants, he takes, puts his hands and mouth all over it. I twist under him like a branded thing.

“So, you just…you did it? Just like that?” I ask, unable to help myself.

Did he hesitate? Did the pressure of the family make it easy? How did his knuckles get bloody? Did he relish it and put on a show? I try to picture it, the shadowy scene playing out behind my eyelids, but I can’t. I can’t tear my eyes away from his body, don’t want to think about anything else except the boy on top of me.

His thumb rubs the jut of my hip bones.

“Is that so hard to believe?” he asks, as he drags my thong down my thighs. “I wanted it.”

He says, “I wanted it,” but what I hear is, “I wantedyou.”

The cold bundle of nerves sitting in my stomach like an ice cube has already melted under his heat, and suddenly, I have no idea how I resisted him this long. I want him so badly, it hurts. We aren’t kids anymore. My finger is curled around my own trigger.

He pushes my legs back and looks at me in my entirety. I feel the naked rush of heat as his gaze washes over me, takes me in from head to toe. I sink my teeth into my lower lip, so hungry for his approval.

“Fuck,” he breathes softly.

He drags two fingers up and down the slit of my pussy, tracing it under his touch.

I shiver, trying to hold his gaze. He splays my legs, and my pulse skips as his eyes roam down my body, looking at parts of me I’ve barely seen before. I reach for the dim orange lamp on the bedside, the only thing giving the room any light, but he stops me.

“No,” he says, his voice stern.

I swallow.

“Girls who look like you don’t have sex in the dark.” My belly clenches hard for him as he opens my legs again and buries his face between my shaking thighs. I don’t resist him, slowly relaxing the tension in my thighs and letting him move me. “Good,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against my clit. “Don’t fight it. Let me make it good for you, Nadia.”

With two fingers on each side of my clit, he spreads me open, gets his mouth right on that tiny sensitive point of massive pleasure.

“Ren,” I gasp, a mix of panic and desire. His tongue answers me. Hands slide up my thighs, keep my legs parted and open. My body shakes, shudders, the sensation having nowhere to go. My foot jerks up and my nails slide over his thick shoulder. I pinch my eyes shut and catch a whimper in my throat, contending with the swirl of pleasure tightening inside. “Ren, oh—”

His hand presses on my belly, keeping me down.

The sensation flutters, almost too much, making me jerk, but he rends my legs open further and swirls his tongue in hot, merciless circles. I gasp and twist against the bed, my gasp filling up the silence. I pull at the covers, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter.

“Aah—”

For several long minutes, Ren does nothing but get acquainted with the parts of me he has never met before. I’ve never felt anything like this. Beingsavored. Wringing out pleasure for the sake of itself, not leaving a drop locked inside me. Ren’s tongue rolls rapidly, his head moving until my hips grind up toward that sinful mouth.

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