Page 40 of My Mafia Queen

“I don’t want to talk about it…” I say, winding my arm around his neck. “I want you to teach me everything you know about life, sex, and people. If either of us goes, I want the other one to benefit from those memories that withstand the test of time. If I go, I look forward to meeting you in the next life.”

He gives me a soft smile.

“You’re my kind of woman,gattino, and rest assured. You won’t go as long as I’m alive.”

He brings his lips to mine, and our kiss is made of pure fire as I find my footing and hold my own.

His hand goes down again while his hips start rolling, and this time his fingers touch sensitive points I’ve never thought I had, and my pleasure peaks again.

I don’t expect to hit the jackpot and have an orgasm in spite of the pain, but when he moves his fingers over my clit, and massages it increasingly strongly while mirroring the rocking of his hips, moans rush to my lips, and we break the kiss.

And just like that, he fucks me faster and gives me a taste of what’s to come.

* * *

DAMASO

“There are problems, Boss,”Louie says as I slide into a chair at the breakfast table.

The servers rush to bring my food and espresso.

“No woman?” Vito asks, chewing on his food with gusto.

A smile tickles my lips as I purposefully avert my eyes.

Gianni clears his throat.

I flick my eyes up and chuckle, my finger going up.

“No comments or I’ll throw you out.”

They laugh, amused.

“It’s been a long night,” Louie says.

“What did I say, jokester?” I murmur, still smiling.

The servers bring the food to the table.

“She doesn’t eat?” Vito asks.

“She’s asleep. Besides, there’s food upstairs.”

The words they have for me never leave their lips.

They know I make good on a promise, so they stare at me poker-faced.

“What’s the problem?” I ask, digging into my food, still having that satisfied grin on my lips.

Nothing can ruin my mood right now.

The woman I have in my bed upstairs is fine. She's more than fine. She’s something I never thought I’d have. Everything I said to her was true.

That doesn’t mean that we can’t enjoy the time we have.

“I’m listening,” I say, looking at Vito.

“Paul has sent word,” he mutters.

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