Page 75 of Mafia Kings: Dario

Once I set the tray on the desk, my feet carried me over to the door like a sleepwalker.

The shower was louder now as I peeked through the half-open door.

The room was beautiful, full of marble and gold –

Butthatwasn’t what I looked at.

Halfway across the bathroom was a giant cube with walls of glass…

And Dario stood naked in the middle, his face held up to the spray of water.

My mouth dropped open.

He was absolutely gorgeous.

It was like looking at a Greek god.

Or an Italian one.

A god, anyway.

Albeit one with tattoos all over.

His shoulders weresobroad… his chest so powerful…

His biceps were so big that they strained against his olive skin.

His body was all muscle. His stomach was ribbed like a washboard – a six-pack, I think the Americans call it.

And then my eyes dropped even further –

And I gasped.

I had seen a couple of penises in my life – boys swimming in the river near Mensano when I was a teenager. Theirs had been small.

Dario’s wasnotsmall.

It dangled long and thick between his muscular thighs as water cascaded off it.

When he moved, it swung slowly. I could tell it would be heavy if I held it in my hand.

And at the thought of that –

Of me holding it in my hand –

Caressing it…

Stroking it…

Kissing it…

I nearly started hyperventilating.

Everywhere he’d touched me last night –

My pussy,I thought guiltily, still not used to the word –

Felt like it was on fire.

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