Page 44 of Mafia Darling

“Look what I found in my drawer.” She shimmied out of her yoga pants, displaying those long legs I loved to feel wrapped around my hips. Her waist was still small but the pregnancy made her tits even fuller. They spilled out from the top of the bodysuit cups. Kicking the pants aside, she said, “I guess you didn’t get rid of all my lingerie after you sent me away.”

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I was both grateful and angry, aware that she’d worn this to control me. And it was working. There was no resisting her, no refusal on my tongue. I wanted her too badly, the need in my balls too great. I loved her, and my body craved nothing more than to prove it to her.

I ran my tongue behind my teeth, contemplating, before growling, “Get on the sofa and spread your legs.”

The slightest frown crossed her face. “If I do this, it doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you.”

Though I had no one to blame but myself, I wanted to punch the wall. Five weeks ago she wouldn’t have questioned an order like this, and I needed that acceptance again. Nothing less would do. She was mine.

Still, I knew what she needed to hear, even if I wasn’t sure I believed it. I inclined my head. “Of course.”

My agreement satisfied her. She started for the sofa, her ass high and tight, absolute perfection as she moved across the floor. I wanted to spank her, to mark her. To whip her just so I could lick her tears. I wanted every part of her, good and bad.

She settled on the cushions, faced me, and spread her legs. Her blond hair fell in waves around her shoulders, and the flush on her cheeks told me how much she liked being on display for me. “Open the snaps,” I said.

Delicate fingers reached between her legs and the snaps flew open one by one, each soft pop a stroke to my poor neglected cock. I was so hard, the skin stretched tight over my shaft, and I couldn’t wait to shove myself inside her, feel that warmth and heat again after so long.

When the fabric parted, there was her pussy on glorious display. She had recently shaved, leaving herself bare, and the glistening lips made my mouth water. My piccola monella, playing with fire.

I put the glass down carefully, then closed the distance to the sofa and dropped to my knees between her thighs. The scent of her arousal filled my nose and lungs, making my head swim. Fuck, yes. I had dreamed of this for so long—every time I closed my eyes for the last five weeks—that I almost couldn’t believe it was real.

My chest heaved as I bent my head, my arms sliding under her thighs to pull her closer, but I paused just before my mouth reached her perfect skin. Breathing on her, but not offering any relief. “Beg me,” I whispered. “Beg me to eat your pussy, dolcezza.”

* * *

Francesca

I didn’t have time to wonder whether this was a mistake or not.

I’d worn the red bodysuit as insurance, just in case I needed to break out the lace-covered girls and seduce him into not hurting Giulio or Paulo. In my head, I thought Fausto would take one look at me, agree to whatever demands I put forth, then ravish me in a frenzy.

I should’ve known better.

The soft exhales from his mouth teased my skin, and my clit pulsed with every beat of my heart. No way he hadn’t noticed how wet I was at the moment. I needed his mouth on me. I craved the feel of his lips and tongue, the scrape of his teeth, the way he sucked and licked me like he was starving for me . . .

I hadn’t missed the huge erection tenting his trousers, though. He wanted this every bit as much as I did.

Reaching down, I threaded my fingers through his silky hair, needing to touch him. God, this man. He turned me on like no one else in the entire world.

He snatched my wrist and pulled my hand away from him. “Place your hands behind your head,” he ordered. “Give yourself over to me.”

White-hot arousal shot through me, his dominance my drug, and I hurried to obey. The position put my body at an awkward angle, with my tits thrust up and out, barely encased by the bodysuit. Then he was back between my legs, his mouth hovering just where I needed him most.

“Ti prego,” I whispered, unable to take one second more. “Please, Fausto.”

That was all he needed to hear, apparently, because his mouth latched onto me like he was starving. Like my body was his sustenance and he’d been deprived for years. My back bowed, pleasure arcing through my limbs at his assault, his lips and tongue voracious as they sucked and licked, and I could only sit on the sofa and withstand it. I was forced to take the pleasure he gave me and return none of it, but his growls and sighs into my flesh told me he loved it every bit as much as I did.

Using the flat of his tongue, he massaged my clit, then drew it into his mouth to suck on it. Sweat broke out on my forehead and my thighs trembled. The tension was almost too much to take. Ribbons of lust were coiling inside my belly, but there was no relief, no gentleness coming from this man. It was almost like a punishment. Death by amazing head.

“You know what I want to hear,” he said, nuzzling me with his nose. “Tell me.”

What was he talking about? Everything throbbed. I was so fucking close. “Don’t stop, please.”

Two long, thick fingers worked inside my opening, filling and stretching me in the best kind of way. It pinched, the fit a tight one after so long, but I welcomed the burn as the digits tunneled inside me. “Holy shit,” I breathed, and the glorious pressure of his fingers nearly made my eyes cross.

“Tell me who you belong to, Francesca.”

I shook my head against the sofa. I couldn’t. He asked too much. I wasn’t ready to say it.

---