Page 110 of My Mafia King

And the second one just happened now when he was inches away from me, and I was hiding clumsily behind a dress.

The tension inside me only grows before lapping at my senses.

And then again.

Why am I so horny?

Why do I feel things I never thought I’d ever have the time to feel?

It’s sudden warmth across my skin, goosebumps on my arms, and painful tension in my nipples.

More tension in my body, down to my abdomen.

It’s growing with every moment spent with him.

It’s like some weird magic happens every time he walks past me.

What is it?

Is the fact that he is handsome?

Of course he is.

Could it be possible that he can get any woman that he wants without much effort?

Of course he could.

Would I be one of those women?

No, no.

Of course not.

No?

Would he be interested…? No. Of course he wouldn’t.

He just considered whacking me.

Maybe he didn’t, but how far away from that point was he really?

And then…

Fucking me and whacking me are not entirely exclusive.

They can happen one after another. But he doesn’t look at me in that way.

Does he?

I think I’m messing with my head.

I put the pink dress on.

It’s nice and flashy. It's not something I would normally have in my wardrobe, but this is not the first time I’ve done something different with him, is it?

None of the clothes I’ve put on since I came here are part of what I’d call my regular wardrobe.

The fabric is stretchy, and so molded to my body that everything seems enhanced. The swell of my chest, the tapering of my waist, and the arching of my hips.

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