Page 31 of Take A Chance

My body writhed beneath his as he moved inside me, thrusting with a passionate urgency that set my entire being afire. His thrusts were eager, pounding me into the mattress. With each one, I felt the wave of pleasure that rose in me and threatened to overwhelm me. My pussy clenched and squeezed him, gripping him tightly, coaxing more and more pleasure from his movements. His cock filled me, and I could feel him deep inside me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge of bliss.

I could see the sweat glistening off his chest and down his back as his thrusts quickened, his cock gliding in and out of my pussy faster and faster. His thrusts were eager. He pulled me close with his right arm, finding my breast with his mouth, kissing and sucking my nipples, biting down on each one. He tugged at my hips, pulling me closer to him, screwing his cock in deeper, each thrust more urgent.

I heard the slap of our skin, the wet sounds of my pussy and his cock, his groans and gasps and grunts as we fucked. My moans were muffled, and my hands rested on his and our fingers intertwined. I pulled his fingers to my mouth and sucked his middle finger into my mouth, licking over its knuckle before pulling it out and sucking it as if it were his throbbing dick.

My groans of pleasure were stifled, desperate to not alert the others to our activities but unable to restrain the wave of pleasure that coursed through me. His body moved with a demanding grace, as if he was determined to make sure I received my just reward for allowing him to pleasure me. And then, as if we were both caught in a moment outside of time, he shuddered and released, sending warmth radiating through me and showering me with a pleasure so intense that I trembled in its wake.

We lay there, our bodies still connected, panting, neither of us wanting to break the connection between us. After a few moments, he slowly pulled out of me, and I felt a momentary emptiness that was quickly replaced by the warm glow of satisfaction. I opened my eyes, gazing into his, and saw the same contentment mirrored back at me. I smiled, drawing him closer for a lingering embrace, neither of us wanting to let go of the moment.

He pulled out of me, breathing heavily, and curled his body around mine. I relaxed into him, our sweaty skin sticking together and sharing a warmth that the air conditioner’s chill failed to penetrate. His arms were tight around my waist as if he were afraid that I might leave in the silence that followed. I ran my fingers through his damp hair, tracing the contours of his face, lingering on the bridge of his nose and the curve of his cheeks.

I felt a deep contentment radiating from him, his body still shaking slightly despite his outward calm.

I toyed with the idea of telling him everything but hesitated, worried that it would be too much for him. Being a mafia princess was something I wanted to leave behind. Being the Don’s daughter had an ominous significance, one that I would never escape from so long as my father were alive and a free man. And given the events that had taken place recently, being followed more than one time, I knew it was only a matter of time before they found me.

I felt safe here with him, maybe for the first time in my life too, and I didn’t want to lose that safety, though I would if it meant protecting Katelyn and Blake. I cupped his cheek, his eyes having never left me. I wondered if he meant what he'd said, that I was his, and if he’d change his mind when he found out about me. But I said nothing. Greta had lived a double life for years now under this roof, and no one had come looking. Maybe the man who had followed us wasn’t connected to my father. Maybe it was something else and I was just overthinking things.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” I told him, lying. Guilt stained my conscience, and I looked away, pressing my cheek to his chest. I could hear his heart pounding.

“I meant what I said, Emma. You’re mine now.” His hands smoothed up my back until he found my hair and pulled it, forcing me to look up at him. “And you agreed with me.”

“Yes, I did.” My words were slightly choked, but I managed them, and I meant them too.

He bit my neck and sucked for a moment, then let kisses trail across my chin and back to my neck. “I have to shower and get to work. We’ll have dinner as a family tonight.” He pulled away, rolling out of bed, and I watched him walk away feeling guilty. I had to talk to Greta again, and soon. If she was taking Katelyn to school, she’d be leaving soon.

So I dressed quickly, using tissues from Blake’s nightstand to wipe myself clean, then rushed to my room and dressed. My clothing smelled like sex and sweat, but I didn’t have time for a shower, not if I was going to speak with Greta before Blake came downstairs. I neglected to brush my teeth or do my hair and raced down the steps, finding Greta and Marta trying to coax Katelyn into eating pancakes.

“Please, Katelyn. You have to eat before school.” Marta had a bite of a pancake cut and perched on a fork, ready to feed the girl. I shook my head.

“Marta, she’s not a child. Just give her the fork. Katelyn, you know better. Eat your breakfast.” I sighed and turned to Greta. “Greta, I need to speak with you now.” I glanced at Katelyn, who took the fork from Marta and ate the bite of food. It amazed me how she rose to the occasion when someone required it of her. I took Greta’s hand and pulled her into the back hallway before I even spoke again. “I need to talk to you.”

“You said that, but listen. You have to hear this.” Her face was pale, white as a sheet. I hadn’t noticed until just now, but her hand trembled, the phone in it.

My stomach tightened.

“I just had a phone call.”

“From whom?” I demanded, heart pounding harder than it had in weeks. “What did they say?”

“That’s the thing, Emma. They said nothing, but I could hear breathing in the receiver.” She shuddered and continued. “And I heard the train.”

My heart leapt. The train—next to the restaurant where my father did his family business. It had a distinct whistle when it picked up deliveries for the family. Everyone knew the difference, at least everyone who did business with my father. The hair on the backs of my arms and neck rose on end, and I shivered, suddenly frozen with fear.

“What do we do?” I asked, trembling.

“We pray.”

18

Blake

The salad I ordered for lunch looked less than appetizing as I watched Colin scarfing down a steak. I took a bite and tried to imagine the ranch dressing was steak sauce and found myself sorely disappointed. At least the beer I had ordered wasn’t a light beer.

“So you’re off to where now, Milan?” I wasn’t particularly interested in Colin’s business trips, but it was the friendly thing to do, asking him how life was going.

“No, Rome.” He gulped his beer and set it back on the table. The outdoor diner was loud. The sun was in my eyes. If I had my druthers, I’d have made reservations anywhere else.

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