Page 63 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride
“Okay?” he asks, holding perfectly still inside me.
I nod, adjusting to the newness of him. “Yes,” I whisper, wrapping my legs around him as the awkward discomfort gives way to that humming sensation again. “Please…”
He begins to move, and the pleasure builds. It’s different from before. More intense, if that’s possible.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” His hips rock against me, and I’m lost in the feel of him. My body is pulsing. Vibrating.
And then I’m there again. “Roman!” Pleasure bursts like fireworks, shooting to every cell in my body.
I hold on to him, feeling like he’s the only thing keeping me anchored as I fly, I soar with the most exquisite pleasure imaginable.
11
ROMAN
Once again, I’m doing something I shouldn’t be doing. I’m fucking Isabella.
Sure, she’s my wife, but that’s just an arrangement.
This isn’t love.
It’s just a base attraction.
I have no qualms about fucking women for simple physical need, but Isabella isn’t any woman.
She’s a Mafia princess. Daughter of Don Ferraza.
She’s saved herself for a real husband this long.
Who am I to take this from her?
Except… I am her husband. Thinking she should save herself suggests that this marriage will end one day. But will it?
She won’t be safe until she’s satisfied that her mother’s death is solved. The more she pursues answers, the more she’s in danger, and only I can protect her.
“Roman!” Her body tightens around my cock like a fucking vise, and holy hell, it feels beyond good.
Something about hearing my name on her lips ignites something primal in me. I pick up the pace, one hand supporting her lower back, the other tangled in her hair.
Everything flies out the window except a driving physical need to come.
Her tightness grips me like nothing I've experienced before.
The tension builds at the base of my spine.
I'm close. Too close.
I try to hold back, wanting to make this last, but she's writhing beneath me, her body clenching around mine.
She cries out again, her back arching as comes again. I let go. I drive in hard, deep, my orgasm slamming through me as I empty inside her.
I withdraw and thrust again, and again, the intensity catching me off guard as pleasure washes through me.
I collapse beside her, both of us breathing hard. Isabella curls against me, her head on my chest, and I automatically wrap my arm around her.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Fuck.
As our breathing steadies and she drifts to sleep, I stare at the ceiling, my thoughts a tangled mess.
