Page 62 of Mafia Captor

“And I’ll keep encouraging you.”

His hands rove over my curves. He lays me on the bed. I stretch my arms, closing my eyes and letting him kiss me full on the mouth. He can kiss me all he wants.

I’m still going to get my way.

ChapterNineteen

Boston

I breakoff the kiss to read her face and see where I stand with her. She smiles up at me, but her grin doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She’s still thinking about our fight.

I can read her like a damn book.

I distract her, tearing the gold panties from around her legs and tossing them to the floor. I grab her soft thighs and spread her legs. I dip my tongue between her sweet, honeyed folds.

She moans, running her hands through my hair. “God, that feels amazing.”

I eat her till she’s shaking, her thighs locked against my cheeks.

But I know…

This is a momentary truce, courtesy of my tongue against her greedy clit. When she comes to, there’ll still be trouble in our paradise. I’m not willing to lose my new car mechanic. And there’s no way she’s backing down.

Also, she doesn’t know the half of it. And I don’t know how to tell her. The truth is going to turn her world upside down.

I lap up the last drop of her sweet nectar.

Let the war begin.

Sunlight wakes me. I open my eyes to find her already gone from my bed. She’s usually snuggled up to my side, sleeping like a kitten.

Told you she was still salty.

I’m not going to fight with her over The Beckster. There’s no point. The kid’s a grown man and he’ll make his own choices. And right now, the choice he’s making is really going to piss her off. If she thinks she’s mad now, wait till she finds out what Becks has planned for his future.

The nutty aroma of my favorite coffee lures me over to the circular white marble table in the center of my room, where a carafe of it waits for me alongside a plate of golden brown, buttered toast. Crunching on a piece of toast, I pour a mug of the strong black coffee and sip deeply. I take a long shower, rubbing out the cum that built up from eating her pussy last night. God, her pussy tastes so good. Feels like heaven. Smells like pure woman sensuality.

Is that even a phrase? I scrub my hair, watching the suds spin toward the drain.

I chose the blue linen shirt to wear. Maybe that’ll soften her up. She’s not going to get her way on the Beckett front, but I’ll change up my wardrobe for her.

Stepping out into the morning sun, refilled coffee mug in hand, I gaze around the estate. The grass has recently been mowed, leaving neat rows and a sweet scent lingering in the air. The maintenance of the pebbled paths shows meticulous care, sharply edged, their boundaries refilled with new rock that’s been evenly smoothed. My animal topiaries have been trimmed, my life-like leafy tiger ready to pounce.

I love this place. I always have. I never even realized there was something missing. A king has to have his queen. As much as I love my dog, Sasha’s not wifey material.

Plus, she sheds like crazy.

Becks walks out of the house, headed toward me, slipping his hands in his pockets. He looks so light, easygoing. I know he’s anything but. Inside that kid is a determination that burns bright.

I know what he wants to talk to me about. I finish my coffee, needing the extra hit of caffeine. Ashe is going to fucking kill me over this.

“Hey,” he says. “You got a minute?”

“What’s up? You got a confession to make?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Fuck,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, bro. I was hoping to get to you before they did.”

“How much?” I ask.

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