Page 57 of Owned by the Italian Mafia Boss
I silence her in one deep stroke, sinking into her pussy that’s still wet from last night. Wrapping her hair around my wrist, I tug her head back and press my mouth against her ear as she moans. “You aren’t allowed to ever talk about dying again, do you understand me?” I groan from the feel of her and how tight she is. I quicken my pace. “Tell me,” I sneer.
“I won’t…ever…talk about…that again.” She struggles to speak every time I fill her, giving her every inch of me.
“You are the only one who matters to me. You.” I pull my hips back and slam forward. “I’d kill everyone for you. If it meant keeping you safe, keeping you here with me, by my side, with my children.” I continue the brutal beat, her cheeks shaking with every driving force, and that fucking sweater she’s wearing drifts down her shoulder more.
I bite her there, marring her flesh before lapping at it with my tongue. She becomes wetter, her walls contracting around me, massaging the long length that’s made for her.
Circling my hand around the front of her neck, I squeeze. I don’t know why I love doing that so much. Perhaps it’s because she’s at my mercy or in my control, but I love seeing my hand as a necklace. Only her throat column could make my hands seem clean and pure. I touch heaven every time I try to get her to experience hell.
“Carmine! Carmine! Oh, God. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
Someone could hold a gun to my head, and I wouldn’t stop. “You’re mine, Sweetling. Say it. Tell me you’re all mine.”
“Yours. Yours,” she reassures, as she meets me thrust for thrust.
“And you’ll never die,” I say, holding her to my chest. The need to feel her against me consumes me. There’s a burning in my chest, one I can’t explain because I’ve never felt it before. It’s clawing at me desperately, needing more of her than ever before.
She doesn’t say anything.
I ram into her harder, slamming her flat against the wall, then yank her head to the side. “Tell me you’ll never die.”
I bury my face in her neck, squeezing my eyes shut and gripping her hips as hard as I can. I need to engrave myself in her body. I need her to always feel me. With every thrust, I lift, sliding upward so gets more of me with every push. “Damn it, you feel so fucking good.”
I press my forehead against her shoulder. I glide my hands up her waist, grasping and clutching every part of her. Sliding her shirt up, I palm her breasts under her bra, and she whines, pressing her ass against me, meeting my strokes. “Tell me,” I beg her with a gasp. “Tell me.” I thrust. “ Tell me.” I. “I slam home. “Fucking tell me.”
She shouts her orgasm, her nails clawing at the paint on the wall.
“Delilah,” I growl my release, pushing as far as possible, holding her shoulders tight, so she bears down on me. “Fuck, yes. Take everything, Sweetling.”
She sags against the wall, and I fall against her, kissing the sweat-slicken skin of her nape. Dragging my lips across her bare shoulder, I embrace her tightly. I’m not ready to be free of her. I want to stay inside her all day, all night. I never want to leave this room.
She’s safe here. The harshness of the world can’t touch her.
“You never told me.” My voice rasps as I palm her breasts and kiss between the middle of her shoulders.
She slides out from under me, and my release drips down her thighs. Something about that uncages something primal, instinctual.
I tuck myself back in into my pants and zip up. Bending down, I tug her flimsy leggings back into place, but she stops me.
“I need to clean up.”
I watch my come slide down her freely, and that burning appears in my chest again. Skimming my fingers up her legs, gathering the white liquid, and then pushing it back inside her where it belongs.
She gasps. “Carmine. What are you doing?”
“You won’t clean up. You’ll feel me all day. I want you to know I was here. No cleaning up, Delilah.” When I’m done, I slide her leggings up her legs, settling them just above her hips.
“Carmine.” She suddenly sounds shy.
“I’ll get you pregnant one of these days, and I can’t do that if I’m not inside you, Sweetling.” I hide my smile as she blushes, her cheeks a gorgeous shade of rose. I brush my knuckles across them, loving how I can feel the heat radiating from her. “You never told me.”
She tilts her head to the side and frowns, her palm rubbing across my heart. I hold it there and take a deep breath to calm down, but I can’t. I can never seem calm when it comes to Delilah.
“Carmine, I can’t promise that, and you know it,” she says. I shake my head in complete denial of what she’s telling me. “One day, I will die, but I don’t plan on dying anytime soon. We can’t live forever.”
“I want you to live forever. With me. Always. I meant it,” I say fiercely. “No one else matters to me the way you do. I meant what I said. I am not a good man. You know that. I care about no one.”
She bites her lip, standing on her tiptoes as she wraps her arms around my neck. “But you care about me.”
