Page 72 of Mafia Virgin (The Kings of Italy)

She stiffened against me and seemed to be holding her breath. “Yes, of course. I told you I would.”

I’d come to know this woman very well, and it was obvious she was lying. I could hear it in her tone, as if she forced the words out, unnatural and wooden.

This meant either she was still taking the birth control pills . . . or there were no pills to begin with.

Had she lied because she thought I was too stupid to figure it out?

“You are dumber than a dog, Giacomo.”

My father and brother had said this often over the years, even though my marks in school were higher than Nino’s. It hadn’t mattered. They were only interested in keeping me in my place.

Well, Emma was about to learn that I wasn’t as dumb as everyone thought.

I lifted her off my lap and set her on her feet. She wobbled slightly, her small tits bouncing. Her panties were wet and clinging to her swollen flesh, my come drying on the scrap of silk. Satisfaction ballooned in my chest. I loved getting her dirty.

Hitching up my pants, I tucked my dick away and fastened my jeans. I could clean up later. Emma reached for the waistband of her panties and started to pull them off. I grabbed her wrist. “Leave them on.”

She plucked her glasses off the desk and slipped them on her face. “They’re sticky and uncomfortable.”

I gave her a dark smile, one full of possession. “Exactly. I want you to feel me between your legs for the rest of the day.”

“That’s extremely unhygienic.”

“But hot.” Rising, I cupped her face in my palms. “I have shit to do. But before I go, I need one thing from you.”

“What is it?”

“Bring me your pills.”

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Emma

Iblinked up at him, my mind whirling.

Giacomo was demanding the pills—pills I’d invented to buy time. What was I going to say?

His hard stare, implacable and confident, burned into mine. There wasn’t the tiniest hint that he’d back down on this.

I tried to appear confidently annoyed at the request. “Why?”

He took forever answering me. When he did his tone was all mafia boss, a man who intimidated for a living. “Because, mia innocente, I don’t believe there are any pills.”

My stomach fell to the floor, but I tried to put on a brave face. “You think I’m lying.”

“Do not sound so offended.” His thumbs caressed my jaw, the touch almost tender. Loving. “I learned long ago not to trust anyone. You shouldn’t take it personally. Allora, go upstairs and bring me down your pills.”

I licked my lips. I could still taste him, feel the press of his mouth against mine. My crotch was wet and sticky, the proof of our dry humping clinging to my skin. After an orgasm like that, he should be blissed out and sleepy. Instead, he’d discovered my lie.

“I threw them out,” I blurted.

His lips curved into a rare wide smile. It softened his features and made him even more handsome. Flutters erupted behind my sternum—and it had nothing to do with fear.

“Bambina, you are going to learn not to lie to me. Either tell me the truth, or I’m turning you over my knee right now.”

Turning me over his . . . . ? “Meaning you’ll spank me?”

“Sì, certo. What will it be, the truth or a spanking?”

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