Page 73 of My Mafia Queen

“Relax…” he says quietly, observing me with watchful eyes, noticing how I go from deliberate languidness to experiencing arousal again.

When he brings me next to him, and I feel what he feels, he takes me with him, and I see my world through rosy glasses.

I like this man, the world he’s built from me, and how he makes me gain years of sexual experience by awakening the woman in me.

I love how he considers me an adult, making me feel important and valued while setting guardrails so I don’t fall over and drown in uncertainty.

We become‘friends’in a different way, opening up a world of opportunities for me.

He makes me come without a problem, creating a mess between my legs.

Amazingly, he doesn’t let a drop of cum fall to his shoes or pants and cleans me later with the same towel.

When he finally pulls me upright, and I wrap my arms around his neck, still panting, smelling like semen and wetness, perfume, and fresh aftershave from his skin, I’m dizzy, and the room spins with me a little.

“I need a moment…” I say, laughing.

“You’ve got it, baby,” he says, cleaning himself up and zipping up his pants.

And then he holds me in his arms while I enjoy these moments tremendously.

I’m such a little girl when it comes to this, although I know he wants a woman. I feel it in my blood. But I also want to stall and live these moments that I’ve been robbed of.

It’s great to trust a man and have his arms around you and feel the world can do you no wrong because it can’t get past him to crush you.

My heart weeps as I press my forehead against his shoulder and close my eyes to live there for a moment and grieve my lost innocence, regaining that sense of dignity my father so easily destroyed.

I wish I could stay there forever, but we have to go.

Life goes on, and exciting moments await us.

And I can’t beg for more moments of reprieve without telling him the entire story.

‘Thank you,” I say softly when he straightens, and I do too. “I probably need different panties,” I murmur, staring at my underwear.

He slides them past my other foot and drags them up.

“You don’t. You’ll just smell like me a little longer.”

With that, he takes my hand and gestures toward the door.

“Let’s go,” he says, and I follow him in a trance.

14

CARMINA

The followingSaturday

These past fewdays have changed my life.

The man has swept me off my feet.

It’s not the resort we’re staying in, the starry nights, or our beautiful surroundings. They all make me feel like I have entered a different world. But it’s mostly him.

The way he’s taken over me without taking over me.

The way he makes me laugh, experience pleasure, and indulge in things I have swiftly lodged into my memory.

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