Page 62 of Corrupting Lily

"We can come here whenever you want." His hand strokes my back gently, and his scent envelops me, instantly making me feel calmer.

"What's really bugging you?" I take a deep breath, wondering how to explain something like this to a man who has everything. Who is everything. Powerful. Important. Influential. And my husband.

"What happens now? What happens from here?" The rumble in his chest when he chuckles sends shivers down my spine. God, how is it possible for such a simple action to be so sexy? Perhaps the fact that he does it so rarely and that I am the reason makes it so addictive.

"We go home, we open your shop, we fuck all the time until your belly is full with my children, rinse, repeat and live happily ever after." He bucks his hips playfully, as if I need reminding of how that would come to be. It’s wholly unnecessary. I am well acquainted with that aspect of the plan.

I push myself up, resting my chin on my clenched hands to look at him. Silver-grey eyes glint in the sun that occasionally peeks through the leaves of the tree overhead. He seems so relaxed, which contrasts with the man who usually walks around in a suit with a scowl.

"You make it sound so easy, but it's not. You're….well, you're you—head of the mafia. I don't know what that entails, but I'm not stupid. It's dangerous, and conceptually, it feels like a mountain I can't even climb. How do I get up there, to the top where you are? I don't know anything. I don't know the first thing about being part of the mafia, let alone married to its head. Not to mention, I'm an outsider. Most people don't even want me here. And what happens if the cops pick me up? I don't know what I should say or shouldn't say. What if they interrogate me or try to get me to tell them things about you? What if I make a mistake?"

I'm starting to ramble, and I can feel my blood pressure rising, as if I'm currently undergoing a similar interrogation.

"Shhh, stop,il mio fiorellino. Calm down. Firstly, you are already at the top of that metaphorical mountain with me. Secondly, no one will lay a hand on you. Not while I am alive."

"And if you're dead?" My voice cracks, and I look away when tears bubble up.

"Look at me," Dominico orders, his voice firm but compassionate. I comply, though the glassy look in my eyes is unnecessary for him to know my emotional state.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm not that easy to take down, believe me."

I rub my finger over one of the scars on his chest, its existence attesting to as much. The particular circular scar I am fingering was from a bullet wound he sustained three years ago in a shootout. My finger moves to a long, thick one just beside it, obtained when his father threw a small pairing knife at him when he was thirteen. Two different types of danger, but danger nonetheless. My finger drifts from one to another, each having a story I now know. Dominico had been very open to answering every question I asked, not shying away or sugarcoating anything. I suppose in an attempt to prepare me for what was to come. There was no point in buffering the reality I had to get used to.

"Besides, Nero, Dante, and Matteo are not just loyal to the Don. They are loyal to me. And to anyone I deem important to me. Which is you. If anything happened to me, they would never let anything happen to you."

I know he is trying to comfort me, but hearing about a scenario in which he is no longer around does nothing but make me feel bad. However, there was no use dwelling on a maybe. This was now, and while we were here alone, the last thing I wanted to do was spend that time worrying about something that hadn't even happened.

I prop myself up to look at him, smiling as I poke him hard in the chest, which feels like poking a plate of steel.

"If anything happens to you, I'll kill you myself," I threaten, trying to use my most assertive tone.

"Mmm, is that right, little flower? And how exactly will you do that?" He palms my ass and squeezes it suggestively, his eyebrow raising questioningly.

"I'll sleep with someone else," I threaten, laughing when he spanks my ass hard. "When you come back to kill him, I'll kill you."

He growls, and then his fingers hone in on the ticklish spot on the sides of my belly, sending me into a fit of laughter. He knows every part of my body, and this one is no exception. He discovered it two nights ago and is now wielding it like a weapon. I have never laughed as hard as I have in the last forty-eight hours.

"This pussy belongs to only me," he warns, his fingers curling around to graze the already buzzing wet spot between my legs.

"Say it." His fingers stroke, igniting my body while he orders me to admit something that is already a fact. I lean forward, my lips blushing his as I lock eyes with him.

"My pussy is yours, Daddy Dom."

And so is my heart.

Chapter 38

Dominico

Although we had traversed most of the island already, there was still one place I wanted to show her. One more place I would claim her sweet pussy as my own. This whole island was now a fucking memoir to her and I. We fucked every chance we got, never tiring from it. Her sexual appetite was as insatiable as mine was—parallel in every way. It was no lie that I had been waiting my whole life for her, and now that I had found her, I couldn’t imagine it any other way.

She doesn’t hear me as I enter the villa, her shiny, long brown hair loose around her shoulders and bouncing as she hums while biting into an apple. I've never found anything visually as appealing as the sight of Lily doing what Lily does: living, being, existing, especially when she has no worries.

She doesn't jump this time when I slip my arm around her tiny waist and take a massive bite of her apple.

“Are you ready?” I ask, grabbing the backpack off the counter and slinging it over my shoulder. A bag that will undoubtedly be filled withall manner of inanimate objects by the time we return.

“I’m ready,” she announces, her excitement infecting me.

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