Page 83 of Dirty Mafia Sinner
This is how he apologizes?
Yes,I think.His actions speak louder than his words ever will.
“Both,” I say in a rush.
“Both,” he repeats, an evil gleam in his blue eyes. “Greedy girl.”
Notmygreedy girl—he omitted the pronoun and changed a pet name.
“Now beg me for it.”
“Lick me.” My voice trembles.
“Louder. So my men can hear your sweet pleas.”
Confident only he will hear me—because he’s sick and twisted, but possessive as hell—I obey. “Lick me, please.”
“Good girl. Now beg me to sink a finger in your ass while I do it.”
Oh. My. God.
My eyes widen, and his grow impossibly dark. He threatened to break me in months ago. Dirty promises whispered in the heat of the moment. How he’d love watching me struggle. How much he gets off on my submission. But he’s six three, muscled, and with a massive appendage. He barely fits in my pussy, so how am I supposed to take him in my backside?
A bead of sweat forms on my brow. Just a finger. “Will it hurt?”
He licks his lips.
Oh, hell. It’ll hurt a lot.
“Eyes on me, capisci?”
I nod.
“And what happens if you look away, baby?”
My heart stills. He called mebaby. “I never do,” I whisper. “Or you’ll spank me.” A rush of lust hits me hard. Combined withbaby, my entire body is a bundle of need.
He repositions his arms around the back of my knees and spreads me open. “Fuck, I can smell your sweet arousal.”
I blush.
His pleasure is as tangible as the wood surface beneath me.
And then, as he dips his head, drags his tongue across my clitoris, and sucks on my nub, I completely give in to my desires. I’m a wet, sobbing mess when he thrusts his tongue inside me, and shaking with need when he does so over and over again.
I don’t look away, and brazenly watch him. Half gasping, half moaning as his mouth fucks me toward an orgasm.
And he’s loving this. Pleasuring me pleases him.
“Oh God. Please …”
He abruptly raises his head to scowl at me. Cruel, so cruel. But instead of torture, his mission’s to torment me. “I own every inch of you. Say it.”
“You own every inch of me, Alessandro,” I respond without thinking too deeply about what this actually means for me.
For him.
For us.
