Page 48 of Secret Babies for the Italian Mafia Boss

“I put together a charcuterie board. I hope you don’t mind. I have Alvize picking up the twins from daycare.”

“I don’t know—”

“—I trust him with my life. I’d get them myself, but I don’t feel comfortable leaving you.” I take her hand in my mind and stare into her eyes. “Alvize is someone you can trust. I’ve known him my entire life. He’s my best friend, a brother, my right hand.”

“He’s your right-hand man?”

Ah, of course, she’d know more about the meaning of that than anything else. “He is the guy that takes over if anything happens to me. If you can’t trust me, trust his position.”

“I’ve never had my kids with anyone I don’t know, Luca.” She rubs her palms on her thighs. “It’s only been them and me. They aren’t used to anyone else. I don’t know if they would even get in the car with him. No, this isn’t a good idea. I can’t.”

Her breathing becomes too shaky and unstable. She bends down, putting her head between her legs, and I lift her onto my lap.

“Look at me,” I say, grabbing onto the back of her neck to force her to meet my eyes. “I am not going to let anything happen to Oliver and Oliva. I’ll kill Alvize if one strand of their hair is out of place when they come home. And if it makes you feel any better, I’ll video chat him, and you can talk to the kids that way. I’m not comfortable with you driving, and I know you can, but I’m begging you to let me do this.”

“You aren’t the type that begs.” Her breath puffs against the side of my neck, and I drift my fingers up the spine of her back. Her entire body relaxes, melting against me, and I kiss her cheek.

I take this rare opportunity to hold her close before she gets off my lap and changes her mind. “I’m not the begging type, but I’ll beg when it comes to you, Camilla.”

She leans back, and her tongue flicks across her bottom lip while her eyes drop to my mouth.

“We can’t,” she whispers. “We can’t.”

“We can.” I lean forward, wanting the teasing to be over. “We most definitely can, Beautiful Girl. We can do whatever we want.” The distance between us becomes less and less as we move forward.

“This…this can’t happen,” she fights. “You’re my landlord.”

“In this city, I’m everyone’s landlord. Everyone answers to me.” Fuck it. I’m sick of this. I need to taste her. I close the distance between us at last, pressing our lips together in a firm and heated kiss.

Her hands grab my shirt, and she gasps into my mouth. I take that moment to slide my tongue between her lips, and I groan. I can taste her unease, her fear, but most importantly, her want. I control the kiss by keeping a grip on the back of her head. Her hair falls from the messy bun, and it tumbles down her shoulders. I growl when she rocks her hips, rubbing her cunt on my hard cock.

I flip her onto her back and press her against the couch, keeping one arm wrapped around her, so she’s tight against me. Our tongues dance with one another, but there’s no fight.

She knows I’m the one in charge.

“Fuck. You taste better than I remember.” We take a moment to catch our breaths, but the moment is short-lived when we clash our lips together again.

I’ll gladly struggle to breathe if it means the only air I’m inhaling is hers.

She untucks my shirt from my pants and skims her hands against my back. A broken moan escapes me when I feel her touch for only the second time in five years.

Without thinking, I roll my hips, pressing my cock against her core, and she whimpers. The friction is too good. I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.

“Do you know how much I want to tear these pants from your body and slide into your cunt? Do you know? I don’t think you do. The want I have for you has tortured me for five years.”

“And then you’ll get your fill and be done with me,” she says, sucking her bottom lip into my mouth.

Placing one hand on her throat, I keep the other on her hip, pressing her pussy against the hard ridge, aching to slip inside her. “Does it feel like I’d ever be done with you? Does it feel like I could ever get enough?” I nip her chin, continuing the desperate grind against her.

“Luca.” Her fingers dig into the muscles of my lower back, and her legs wrap around my waist.

“You’re out of your mind if you think for one second I’d ever be done with you. You can’t run from me anymore. You’re all mine, Camilla. Nothing can change that, not even your attempts to push me away.” I dip my hand into the waistband of her pajamas and run my finger through her wet slit. “Because it feels like you don’t want to be done with me either.” I suck my fingers into my mouth, her nectar bursting across my taste buds.

I was right.

She is sweeter than she was last time.

Our lips weld together again, the hint of her cunt still lingering on my tongue, and I know she can taste it. With every stroke of her clit through her clothes, she gasps for breath, and I grunt in response, chasing an orgasm twice in an hour.

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