Page 8 of Secret Babies for the Italian Mafia Boss

I fill her glass again when I straighten and open the door to my private balcony. The music pours into the room, and the sea of bodies sway on the dance floor. I hold my hand for her to take, and she slips it into my palm.

I tug her against me, the champagne splashing over the rim of the flute. Bringing her hand to my mouth, I kiss the top of her knuckles, licking the bubbly away from my lips.

“Dance with me,” I state as the song changes to something slower and sexier.

“I’d love to.” She takes a few swallows of the champagne while I down mine, placing the glasses on the nearby table.

I spin her around, pulling her against me until my chest is aligned with her back, and the curve of her ass is pressed against my cock, and I begin to sway my hips to the beat of the music.

Every move she gives me adds flames to the fire of my lust.

Gathering her hair, I move it to the other shoulder, burying my nose against her neck. She smells so sweet. I have to get a taste.

I press my lips against her throat, and she tilts her head to the side, allowing me access. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pull her harder against me so she can feel the hard ridge of my cock. She grinds herself against me harder, applying more pressure, and I groan into her ear.

“You tempt me,” I growl into her ear before sucking her earlobe into my mouth.

She spins around, her arms wrapping around my neck, and I push my knee between her leg. This isn’t dancing. It’s fucking with clothes on, and I want nothing more than to peel that dress from her body and show her how good I can make her feel.

I’m not sure how long we dance, but it’s enough for my clothes to begin to stick to me, and multiple songs have played. The air is hot around us, thick with lust, and as she leans back, tilting her head, I bend down and kiss her throat. My hand grips the side of her neck and pulls her up until we are face to face. Our eyes meet, a faint question lingering in her big brown eyes before they fall to my lips.

I tug her forward, catching her lips with mine, and she melts against me. Her lips are soft, and the taste of champagne lingers on her tongue.

“Take me inside,” she whispers against my mouth.

Without saying a word, I guide us through the door, not breaking the kiss. She feels unlike any woman I’ve ever felt before. Something about her lips, body, and conversation is effortless between us. I want more.

I want a tomorrow with her.

I kick the door shut and press the button on the glass again, letting the frost take over, so we are alone.

The kiss becomes desperate and messy as we tumble to the bed in the middle of the room. I don’t typically bring women in here. This is the space I have for peace and quiet, but Camilla is different.

I feel it.

She begins to unbutton my shirt, and I unzip the back of her dress. Wanting to watch it fall, I break away from her lips and tug her dress down.

She’s wearing a strapless lace bra, her tits pushed high, and a rumble of pleasure leaves me when the dress puddles around her heels. Her legs are long, and by the end of tonight, they’ll be wrapped around me.

I slip off my shirt next, and her breath hitches when she gets a look at my body. She runs her hand down my abdomen, her fingers dipping into the grooves of each ridge.

“You’re stunning,” she whispers, staring at me as if she’s never seen a man’s body before.

“Oh, I don’t hold a candle to you.” I caress her hips, her soft skin so different under the hands that have known so much death. “You’re breathtaking.” I reach behind her and unsnap her bra with a flick of my wrist. It falls to the floor, giving me the perfect view. “Jesus fucking Christ,” I curse under my breath, skimming my fingers up her ribcage before cupping her tits softly.

They fit perfectly in the palm of my hand.

My thumbs brush over her nipples, and she gasps, working the belt from my pants. Her moves are quick and jerky.

Chuckling, I bend down and kiss her again. “I’m not going anywhere. There’s no need for this to be fast,” I say, followed by the grate of my zipper lowering.

Pressing my palm against her chest, I push her down until she’s lying on my bed. Her dark hair surrounds her, and her pink nipples tighten to hard beads. I don’t take my eyes off her. I want her to see how much I need her. I undress, kicking my pants to the side and fisting my cock in one hand.

Her lips part, eyes round with shock, and she sits up, dragging her finger across the tip.

I hiss, loving her curiosity, and she bends down, sucking the crown into her mouth. I groan, watching her eyes peer up at me through her long lashes. Her tongue swirls around the flared tip, tracing every ridge.

“You look so fucking good with my cock stretching your lips,” I praise, burying my fingers in her hair as she tries to suck more of me in her mouth.

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