Page 101 of Massimo

Massimo presses a gentle kiss to the top of my shoulder. "Stay with me, princess."

Regardless of the war in my head, my body has a mind of its own and melts against him.

"Would my cock nestled in your sweet pussy keep you here, present, and in the moment with me?"

Heat blooms and flushes over my face and chest. "What?" I croak.

"Cockwarming." He chuckles and kisses my shoulder again. "Once your soreness has eased a bit, I want you sitting on my lap with my cock nestled deep inside you while I take care of you."

That shouldn't be…so freaking arousing.

Everything about Massimo is a turn-on. The vast size difference between us. How he likes me to show my claws. How he seems to want nothing more than to take care of me. His kinks—such as cockwarming, and where thethoughtof impregnating a woman—is hugely arousing.

I want a baby. I wanthisbaby.

I stiffen in shock at the thought and mentally kick myself.

Having a baby with Massimo is avery badidea. I'd be tied to him and this life forever; no chance of ever escaping and living in peace.

Plus, Massimo would never marry me—the Mancini Princess and the daughter of his sworn enemy—so my child would be illegitimate. In normal society and in today's times, no big deal, but in the mafia world, I knew what that resulted in because I seen it first hand in my father's rule. Massimo would never claim the child as his heir, but I also can't see Massimo letting his child leave with me and having no contact, even if it had Mancini blood.

I'm an idiot. Stupid. Foolish.

The laundry list of deprecating and hurtful things my father used to hiss at me—and that my inner critic adopted—is cut off when I'm spun around to face Massimo. The water churns and sloshes up the high sides of the tub, and I find myself straddling his lap.

He studies me, trying to read my thoughts. "Talk to me, please, princess."

I still haven't been able to fully erect my walls against him again, so I close my eyes to block him out.

He cups my face and brushes his lips over my forehead. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter to stop tears that want to break free.

"Nova, please talk to me. Don't be all up in your head."

Regardless of my anguish, confusion, and self-deprecating thoughts, I laugh. "Don't be all up in my head, huh?"

His chuckle rumbles through his broad chest. I lean into him, and he tucks my head into the crock of his neck and holds me while rubbing my back.

"What time is it?" I ask instead of admitting my inner thoughts.

After Massimo had ruined me for any other man, he bundled me up in a sheet and carried me to his bedroom. The house was completely darkand quiet, and we have been in the tub for long enough for the water to start to cool.

I had slept all day today with Massimo after the previous sleepless night, paralyzed with fear that my father was coming, but sleep wants to drag me under now.

"It's about three in the morning." Massimo shifts, and I glance up at him as he stifles a yawn. He drags his knuckle across my bottom lip. "We'll go back to bed soon, but I want to talk first."

Trepidation skidders down my spine, worrying that Massimo is going to force me to talk about the chaotic, confusing mess of thoughts in my head.

"I want to talk about your father's spy that he sent here."

The spy who Massimo made bleed,scream,and who he killed before coming home. The confession hadn't sent me running from him; instead, I fell headlong into the dark depravity he offered me.

"He didn't know any details about your father's plans, but… He knew other things."

"Like…what?" My heart pounds as his words hang in the air, and dread coils in my gut.

Then suddenly, alarm bells blare loud and violently in my head, and I don't want to know.

"How your father tormented you."

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