Page 63 of My Mafia Queen

I like what I see.

She is the beginning of the rest of my life, and she could be so many things, but now, she is only one.

A beautiful girl with a dark story, neglected in so many ways. She’s gotten more from me than anyone else in her family. And she hasn’t even gotten a lot from me.

Her playful smile is a reflection of mine, and I snake my arms around her waist so I can pull her into my chest.

Our mouths connect, our lips and tongues moving, a scent of flowers lifting off her skin.

What a difference a day makes as my hands move down her body and lift her up.

She spreads her legs for me and loops them around my waist while I pivot with her and set her on the vanity.

And then we kiss with my hand between her legs and my fingers around her neck, and with her fingers sliding over my buttons, undoing them one by one.

I meant to ask her if her pussy was still raw. I’m sure it still is, but she is busy with my clothes and doesn’t want to think about it.

I lose my vest, shirt, and shoes, still kissing her, with her fingers moving over my chest and biceps.

There is something so addictive in her daintiness. No matter how hard she grabs my frame, she is just a budding woman wanting to be ravished,

Her hands go down, slip past my abs, and work on my belt.

I prop my hands on the vanity, fuck her little mouth with my tongue while she unfastens my belt, slides my zipper down, and slips her hand inside my pants.

I stir against her touch before she moves her palm up and down and curls her fingers around my girth.

She’s far from being confident in what she’s doing but wouldn’t be who she is if she was any different.

She likes stroking my erection, and I guide her hand as we both enjoy our little game, smiling against each other’s lips.

Her strokes are passionate, inching closer to my balls, and with my pants open and dick pointing to my abs, I pick her up and walk into the bedroom.

The door to the balcony is open, and the fireplace lights the room.

I lay her down, her hair fanned out over the pillow, and look at her with a satisfied smile on my lips.

She’s everything I need right now, and I part her legs and move my gaze straight to her thighs.

12

CARMINA

When he putshis mouth between my legs, a shudder falls through me, and my shoulders push into the pillow as my hands go to his hair.

Considering this is the first time for me, I don’t have time to think about how I look with my legs open against his mouth while he takes me straight to a place of pleasure.

My center swiftly starts to pulse, my wetness trickling down my legs, my brain in a delicious fog.

“Oh, this…” I murmur, unable to continue.

The way he moves his lips and tongue, hitting every sensitive spot, makes me thread my fingers through his hair.

His mouth trails up to my clit and down to my opening, igniting paths of fiery pleasure.

It’s a feast meant to give me a memorable orgasm, and the more he eats me out, the more I rock my hips, expressing my eagerness to feel his tongue inside me.

He flicks my clit and thrusts his tongue into me, and I’m done, swirling up into a cloud of pulsing pleasure.

---