Page 73 of Nanny's Baby for the Italian Mafia Boss

But my cock burns with need. I can’t stop it.

I rip my hand from her lips and cover her mouth with my own, groaning so loud, there’s no way it can’t be heard in the speaker.

“Hello? Are you okay? Help is on the way,” they say.

She rips her lips from mine and tosses her head back. “Matias! Oh, god.” Her cunt squeezes me as her orgasm takes over, spasming against my sensitive cock.

I fill her, stream after stream drowning her, hoping tonight is the night she gets pregnant. I don’t want her to find out my secret plan to have her with my child.

But there’s no way after tonight, she won’t be.

I steal her lips again, grabbing her chin as I control the kiss. It’s rough with tongue and broken pants as we try to catch our breath.

The elevator groans and the doors are pried open by the sound of it.

“Oh my god.” She hides her face in my chest.

There’s no way they can’t tell what we were doing. My cock is still inside her, still hard, still throbbing.

“Oh. Damn. Um,” one of the men seems unsure of what to say. “Good to know you’re okay.”

“Never fucking better.” I turn my head to my shoulder. “Could you guys give us a moment of privacy? I don’t want you seeing my fiancé.”

“Right. Yes.”

“Of course.”

“Whatever you need.”

“I want my wife to fuck me in an elevator.” The last of the men gripes as he turns around.

I slowly slide out of Sophie, both of us moaning, her from being empty, and me not being suffocated by her warmth. I tuck myself back into my pants, bend down to pick up her ripped panties and tuck them in my pocket.

“You’re dripping from me,” she hisses. “How am I going to get out of here without them seeing?”

“Let them see.”

“Matias!”

I chuckle. “I’m kidding.” I poke my head through the open doors. “Hey guys, we’re going up. Nothing is wrong with this elevator. She looked too good. I couldn’t stop myself.” I give the doors a knock and press the button again, the doors shutting.

“Lucky man,” I hear just before we begin to rise.

Fuck yes, I am.

Chapter Eighteen

Matias

I wake up earlier than she does, which doesn’t surprise me, since I kept her up most of the night needing to be inside her. The one bed really worked to my benefit and not once did she try to demand me to sleep on the floor, or her, for that matter.

Glancing down, I can’t help but smile at her. Sleeping, she’s so serene, so calm, but I know better. The woman is anything but relaxed. I brush my fingers over the scars on her arms, wishing I could show her they are beautiful just like her, but no matter what I say, it won’t matter.

The scars on her soul are much deeper than those on her arms will ever be.

I’m still gathering information with Gianni about the fire that killed her parents. Surprisingly, there isn’t much on it. I can hardly find news articles or photos, which makes me believe she’s right.

It is mafia-related. Only we have the power to pay off the press and the cops to hide information.

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