Page 67 of Auctioned To Her Dad's Mafia Enemies

He strokes my hair, the soft skin behind myear, the length of my throat.

“I can make you feel good, baby doll. Make youforget.”

Our eyes meet, and his question is reflectedbetween us. Do I want him to make me forget?

Against his tall, broad, muscular frame, Ifeel tiny and insubstantial, but not afraid. Not anymore.

I nod and he brushes my bottom lip with histhumb.

He eases me back onto the bed, spreading mylegs gently. I’m still wearing my boots that he unzips and slides off one byone. Next, he removes my stockings, peeling them over my skin, pressing kissesto the insides of my calves, my ankles, and the arches of my feet. Then heturns his attention higher, sliding his hands up my thighs, removing my pantiesinch by slow inch.

With Antonio, I didn't have time to thinkabout this part. We were in the shower, both overwhelmed with emotion that felttoo raw. And in the bedroom yesterday, it built on what we’d already done.

This is so much more deliberate, intentioned,and intimate. My heart is slow and quiet while he brings my panties to his faceand breathes me in. I flush hot at his hungry expression, and when he placeshis palms inside my thighs and eases my legs wide, the heat in my cheekscrescendos.

“Look at you.” He exhales a ragged breath. Oureyes meet, and emotion swells between us. A memory from the past of him hidinga coin in one of his closed fists and telling me to find it flashes back. Hewas so heartbreakingly good-looking then. I'd been shy of him, even as afive-year-old, but after a few games, I’d laughed so much, and at the end, hegave me the coin to buy sweets.

And now, Alexis is still as heartbreakinglygood-looking but with a harder edge, like time has toughened him up. His smilesare not as unbidden, the laughter in his eyes tinted with a hint of cruelty.Life has worked me over, but it’s done the same to these men.

“I want to touch you,” he says. It’s not aquestion as such, but the way he looks at me makes it feel as though he’sasking for permission.

“Please.”

His lion's eyes flash with just a little sparkof danger. His index finger finds where I’m wet, and he groans. “Baby,” hesays. “How did you stay pure for so long? How did no one else come before us?”

There was no one else,Icould tell him. No one who matched up to the memories I had of the Venturis andthe fantasies I created from them. No men came close.

And now…

His touch is reverent, his eyes a pool oflonging and fever.

“You know,” he says softly as he slides twofingers inside me, deep and testing, and I arch my spine like a cat. “Therewill never be a time when I won’t kill to keep you safe.”

My fingers tighten around fistfuls of thecomforter, and he leans over me to kiss my clit, his eyes still devastatinglyconnected to mine. I grip his hair, desperate to hold him where I’m needy. Histongue slides over my clit in one long rasp, and I almost come, moaning andclutching at him as he smiles against my flesh.

“Please,” I say again, knowing how much helikes it, but mostly becauseI wantwhat he can give me; dark, sinful pleasure that will tear me apart at theseams.

“It’s okay,” he tells me, sliding a hand overmy belly to press down against my sternum. Fire tattoos cover his forearm, atwisted inferno like the one raging between my thighs. “It’s okay, sweet girl.There’s no rushing what I want to do to you.”

He draws back, and I pant up at him, watchingas he tears off his shirt with one arm, revealing a torso that’s so ripped, italmost doesn’t look real. His nimble fingers tug the belt from their loops witha whoosh. His dark jeans are shoved over narrow hips, along with tight grayboxer briefs, until he’s standing naked before me, body covered in tattoos offire, angels, and devils, twisted in something that at first glance seemspainful, but on closer inspection is rapture.

He fists his long, thick cock roughly,slicking his palm over the wet tip.

“You see this.” His eyes focus between mythighs. “I think I need to open you with my fingers first.”

I nod because the size of him is more than alittle terrifying. Not so different from Antonio, but my body is a little sorealready, and with Antonio, I was more confident he’d go at my pace. Alexis isless restrained, more impetuous. He lays back on the bed beside me, stretchinghis arms over his head, bringing his musculature into high relief, and my mouthbecomes a barren wasteland.

“Take off your dress and bra,” he says, “thenclimb onto me. Sit on my face.”

His words are like a spell, and before I caneven question his instructions, I’m carrying them out. When I face him, he patsmy hip and then hauls me around like I weigh nothing, dropping me over his faceand pushing against my spine so my mouth lines up with his cock. I flush hot,realizing the view he must have of my spread cunt, then the tip of his tonguetaps the straining point of my clit, and I forget the world.

“Suck me,” he tells me, his voice dark andsharp. “Take me into your throat.”

And when I do, when I get that first taste ofhim, musky, warm, and a little tart, he pushes his fingers inside me andtwists.

Fuck. I flounder, my bobbing movementsfaltering, then restarting like he reset my body and brain in one motion. I’mfull. Impossibly full, but then he draws out and shoves back in again, harderand deeper, and this must be what full feels like. Three thick fingers.Pleasure and pain bloom. The soreness left over from Antonio becomes an ache ofwant.

“Deeper,” he tells me, thrusting his hipsuntil the head of his cock enters my throat, and I gag, tears leaking from myeyes. His taste intensifies, and I gulp, making him hiss and groan.

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