Page 19 of Mafia Priest

My God, she’s tight. Afraid this will be over before it starts, I pause, giving her time to adjust as I struggle not to blow my load. But then she wraps her legs around me, pulling me deeper as her pussy clenches around me.

I pull back, then slam into her. “Is this what you want, little girl? You want me to fuck you until you can’t walk straight?”

She bites her lip. “Please, Daddy. Use me.”

Her words unlock a part of me I’ve kept tightly leashed. Until now. I slam into her—again and again. Angling my hips to give her the most pleasure, I pound into her. The picture frame crashes to the floor, but all I care about is claiming what’s mine. Balls ready to burst, I can’t hold back. It’s too much—she’stoo much, too perfect, too utterly mine as she cries out, coming undone, ripping the most powerful orgasm of my life from me, her sweet pussy milking my cock.

She looks up at me, dazed and full of love. I linger inside her warmth and sweetness, basking in her perfection.

And then reality crashes down as it hits me. “You aren’t on birth control—are you, honey?”

She doesn’t answer, but her face is an open book. Suppressing a groan, I finally manage to pull out. Turning my back to her, I put my dick away and walk over to the bar.

She slides off the desk and retrieves her panties. Wracked with guilt, I carry my drink over to the fireplace and sink down into Mancini’s chair. Expression guarded, she joins me. Kneeling at my feet, she rests her head against my leg.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. Don’t be mad,” she whispers.

“Why on earth would I be mad at you, angel? I’m the one who should have known better. The one who should have exhibited an ounce of self-control.”

“I do know how it works,” she says, voice small. “I told you—I’m notthatinnocent. I just wanted…”

I wait, determined to allow her to gather her thoughts. It’s not that I don’twantchildren with her. She’s just so young—and still doesn’t know what kind of monster I really am.

She looks up at me, eyes serious. “I wanted to be close to you ineveryway. I know it’s too soon to say this, but I want a family. With you.”

Setting my glass down, I slide to the floor, pulling her into my arms. “I want that, too, angel. It’s just…”

“Don’t say I’m too young.” She rests her cheek against my chest, the gesture as childish as her words. “I know what I want.”

I bury my face in her hair, inhaling her scent. “That wasn’t what I was going to say—but youareyoung. Although I’m not so old that I don’t remember how nineteen feels.”

“How old are you?” she asks, proving how little about me she truly knows.

“Forty next month,” I reply, resigned. “Which gets at the heart of what I wasgoingto say. You don’t know me as well as you think.”

“Salvatore…”

Sighing, I realize I can’t put this off any longer. “As I’ve said, our childhoods weren’t that different. My mother committed suicide, too. Not for the same reasons as yours, not exactly, but being my father’s wife wasn’t easy. Neither was being his son. I killed my first man at fifteen and earned my bones a few years later. As a capo, I gave orders straight out of your grandfather’s playbook.”

What I don’t say is that Ilikedit. The bare facts should be more than enough to destroy her love.

“Why did you stop?”

“Because I finally realized how fucked up my family is.”

Silent, she waits for me to elaborate.

“After Mom died, Dad remarried, which is why I have three brothers. Two by blood, one by marriage. My stepmother died, too, although not by suicide. With his bloodline more than secured, Dad didn’t bother marrying again. But he still had certain… appetites. Ones he couldn’t satisfy with whores because whores are willing.”

“You mean, he…” She looks up at me, horrified realization dawning in her eyes.

I hesitate. “My father is… cruel. Please, trust me when I say it’s best not to elaborate. For years, I tried to ignore the things I always suspected were happening behind closed doors. But then he finally gave me an order I couldn’t carry out. You understand about omerta, right?”

“It’s honor,” she says, shockingly calm. “It means you don’t snitch.”

“Right,” I agree. “But there are nuances. Particularly around women. It’s why your grandfather would be within his rights to eliminate me if he found us like this. You don’t mess with sisters or daughters—orgranddaughters—unless your intentions are honorable.”

She frowns. “Aren’t yours?”

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