Page 130 of My Mafia Queen

CARMINA

The wayhe touches me tonight is different.

He’s more present and reveals more of himself, so I feel him closer to me.

Passion and possessiveness are woven into his touch, but so is the calmness in his frame showing me who he is.

Because of that, I revere him. Kissing him, touching him, sucking him, and driving him wild.

He loves the challenge and feeds on me.

I cover him in warm kisses and tease him until he catches me, drags me under him, pins my arms above my head, and smoothly opens my legs with his knee.

“Didn’t I tell you we’d have some fun?” he murmurs against my lips, and for sure, we do.

He slides my thigh high on his hip and paces himself as he thrusts into me before moving into me harder, watching the pleasure in my eyes.

I come before he nudges me around and pulls my back into his chest. He enters me again, collaring my neck and sinking his teeth into my shoulder.

We spend the entire night locked, chasing pleasure, getting exhausted, resting, and tasting bliss again.

The morning comes with a distinct perfume of ripe grapes and smoke.

Later, as the light grows stronger and the view becomes clearer, voices echo outside, and before long, the house smells like coffee and freshly baked bread.

What a life.

He’s still asleep when I root my gaze on the window and take in the fall reigning outside.

It’s a completely different world. And not only because it’s a different continent, and another country, climate, and so on.

The place inspires the people living here to appreciate every moment of this life.

A few birds chirp outside, and a rooster joins them quickly.

The sounds of countryside life put the idea of a new beginning in my head.

Everything I said to him was true.

It boggles the mind how in a few short weeks, he’s completely sucked me into his existence, and no matter how much I’ve injected logic and pragmatism into my thinking, my emotions have become stronger, fueling the chaos in my head.

I wish life was easier. Although how could I expect it to be like that? It has never been easy.

And it’s unreasonable of me to expect it to be like that.

He shifts his position, and I roll over to face him.

By the time I finish doing it, he slides off the bed, pulls a sheet over his butt, and walks to the bathroom.

I listen to the water running over the porcelain tiles with my heart filled with him and this place.

What if this thing with him has come to me too early?

What if I’m not able to grow up as quickly as he needs me to?

He hasn’t said a thing to me. Yet he doesn’t need to.

I’m full of mixed emotions. Excitement, curiosity, and anticipation on the one hand, and dread and angst on the other.

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