Page 13 of Forbidden Mobster's Daughter

My pussy tingles at the idea. My body is #teamtakeadvantage right now. “Take advantage? In a month, I’ll marry an atrocious man. Why can’t I have some fun in the meantime? You said so yourself.” I stand, my knees a bit wobbly. What will it be like to recover from actual sex? Anticipation rumbles in my veins.

Sex with a man like Matteo.

Sure, my primary goal is to get his help. But wouldn’t it be great to have him as my first lover instead of the bastard who basically bought my hand in marriage and my virginity?

“It’s different. I’ll be in deep shit if anyone finds out.” He circles back to face me, and his features are set in an annoyed frown, lips curled.

I step toward him, my gaze on his lips. “So don’t tell anyone.”

He steps back, lifting his hand in a clear message for me to keep away. “Youknow. You could use what just happened against me.”

Telling my father that his most trusted employee French-kissed my pussy would only screw me. He’d put me in an even tighter gilded cage, and I’d have to deal with the consequences of whatever would happen to Matteo. No, I could never do it. “Why would I? My dad would clip my wings even further. I never had sex before. I don’t want my first time to be with a man who’ll snort coke off my ass, take his pleasure, then roll off and snore.”

“If he finds out you’ve had sex…”

“I’ll never tell. Just think. It’ll be your silent fuck-you on your way out. Besides, you get to break in a virgin. I heard some guys are into that,” I say, quoting my roommate Lisa. I’ll miss her life lessons.

He runs his fingers down his face. “Never happened,” he says, then leaves my room.

This is far from over.

A smile purses my lips. The first one in a very long time.

7

Matteo

“Matteo,it’s been a few days since Sienna arrived. How has she been?” Antonio asks as he spreads a generous amount of butter on toast.

I glance at the beautifully laid breakfast table with plenty of pastries, juices, and meats. Antonio rarely eats on the outdoor terrace of his home, but today’s an exception. He invited me to join him, and I managed to swallow a pastry and drink my usual espresso. I know at the moment, Sienna’s going through old stuff in her childhood bedroom. Clara was going to help her go through some boxes. Donate some things and keep others.

“She’s been fine,” I say at last.

Fine doesn’t begin to describe it. Fine is vague. Saying anything other than fine feels intrusive, even if that’s my job.

Ever since eating her pussy, our relationship became even more tense. I’m supposed to follow her everywhere, and I do—but the awareness kills me. How she felt in my arms, how delicious her lips tasted against mine. Her transgressive proposal to have sex, to offer me her virginity.

“Good.”

“A wedding planner will come over today to go over some things.”

“Of course.”

“You’re doing a good job, Matteo. Being your last assignment, watching Sienna day in and day out is probably boring compared to the kind of dynamic work you usually do.”

I cough.

Watching her change with her door conveniently slightly ajar isn’t boring. Saying good morning as she sashays around in her sleepwear isn’t boring. “It’s not the most exciting job in the world, but I make do.”

He laughs. “I’ll miss your sense of humor.”

“Thanks.”

He glances around us before asking in a lower voice, “Does Sienna seem… content with the marriage?”

I swallow. Lying and saying she’s loving the idea isn’t my style. Her father will think something is up. Anyone in her situation would be upset, and recognizing it is the least I can do. “If you’re asking me if she’s excited to marry Francesco, then no, she’s not.”

Antonio nods slowly. “Has she mentioned anything about running away?”

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