Page 108 of Vicious Heir

“Keep fucking my mouth. I’m yours, Adriano.”

And then I’m rewarded. I don’t expect it, but when he pulls his dick from my mouth and rips off my panties, I can only moan as glory fills me from behind.

His cock glides in rough and deep, and it’s like heaven and hell colliding together on earth.

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he praises, grabbing my hair. “My beautiful wife. My fucking toy. You understand now. You can’t ask for what you want. You have to give yourself over to it.”

“I’m yours,” I say again, and I mean it. If he stopped now, I’d be happy. If he doesn’t, I’ll break. None of it matters, so long as I’m with him.

He strokes in deeper. He stretches me wide, and I’m so sensitive that it brings me right to the end. He knows what he’s doing too as he grips my hips, reaches around, and strokes one finger over my clit.

“Shatter, baby,” he commands.

And it destroys me.

His cock slides in and out as I come so hard I’m pretty sure I black out. It’s hard to say with the blindfold. Shapes and colors zoom over my vision as he strokes into me again and again, and I keep on coming, a constant cascade of orgasm after orgasm, so intense and divine, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. I didn’t know this was possible. I want it to end, and I need it to keep going, and, god, it’s going to ruin me forever, and he just keeps fucking me.

Until he growls and holds me still, pumping himself deep between my legs.

“That’s my girl,” he says, groaning as he spills himself and finishes.

I lay there in a puddle of sweat and drool. My limbs keep twitching from aftershocks. He takes off my blindfold first, and the sudden rush of sensory input almost makes me come again. I blink rapidly, and he kisses my shoulders and back as he unties my wrists.

Then I’m in his arms. I’m a puddle of bliss and nothing more.

“Good girl,” he says, stroking my hair. “Such a good girl.”

Then he carries me into the bathroom directly into the tub. He draws a hot bath for us and climbs in, talking to me the whole time. It takes a while before my brain slowly begins to work again, like it needed to reboot after being turned off for years.

“What the heck just happened?” I ask, looking lovingly into my husband’s eyes.

He smiles gently. “We had sex.”

“That wasn’t sex. That was—” I reach for a word. “That was communion.”

He kisses me. “And you were beautiful. God, I wish you could’ve seen it from my point of view. How incredible you were. Communion is the perfect way to describe it. You were like a goddess, and I was drinking you down and eating your every inch. I’m filled with you now.”

“You’re such a fucking freak,” I say, grinning like an absolute maniac because he’smyfreak, and I absolutely love it.

Chapter 41

Adriano

I’ve never felt this content before in my life.

I didn’t know people could walk around the world feeling like this.

Like nothing is wrong. Everything is settled. All my problems, stresses, anxieties, all of those are just temporary things. They’ll get figured out eventually.

The weight’s gone. I didn’t even know it had been there. But after my conversation with Lucy in my dad’s old suite—and the mind-blowing sex that followed—I finally feel like I don’t have to hold on to that baggage anymore.

I can let go of my mourning. I can stop obsessing over whatmighthappen and be happy I’m here right now with her.

But I’m still Don Marino, and that means I have to shove this Zen shit away and focus.

“I’ve been studying his movements,” Luca says, turning his laptop around on my desk to face me. He leans forward in the chair and points at a big map of the city covered in overlappingred lines. Richard’s car over the last few days. “There are lots of repeat visits. I’ve got guys confirming the clients he’s seeing. But there’s one place that we can’t figure out.” He zooms in closer and shows me.

It’s the Main Line. That’s a section outside of Philly extending northwest into the suburbs. All the richest folks in the region live in the Main Line, especially the old money families. The railroad used to go that way, and when the city got too crowded, the millionaires built their mansions far away from the working man.

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