Page 15 of The Mafia's Quintuplets

Heat pools low in my belly at the sight. He’s so… masculine. Against him, I feel more like a woman than I ever have.

When I meet his eyes again, he's watching my reaction with that same intense focus that has characterized our entire encounter, as though he’s memorizing every micro-expression and cataloging every response I have to him.

Maxim steps forward, closing the distance between us. He cradles my face with unexpected gentleness as he kisses me again, deeper now, his hunger barely restrained. The heat of his skin against mine sends electricity crackling through my veins.

He moves a hand to the clasp of my bra, pausing there in silent question. I nod against his lips, and he unfastens it with ease. As the straps slide down my arms, his appreciative gaze makes me feel beautiful rather than exposed. He cups my breasts reverently, thumbs circling my nipples that harden instantly at his touch.

"Perfect," he whispers against my ear before lowering his head to take one peak into his mouth.

I gasp at the sensation, my hands finding purchase in his hair as he lavishes attention on first one breast, then the other. His tongue and teeth work in tandem, creating a perfect balance of pleasure and subtle pain that has me arching against him. One of his hands slides down my stomach to the waistband of my underwear, dipping his fingers just beneath the elastic.

"May I?" he asks, his voice bordering on cocky.

"Please," I whisper, well beyond caring about how needy I sound.

He kneels before me, slowly drawing my underwear down my legs. I step out of the black cotton, now completely naked under his gaze. His hands caress my calves, my knees, my thighs, working their way up with deliberate patience. When he presses a kiss to my hipbone, my legs nearly buckle.

"Bed," I manage to whisper, my voice barely recognizable.

Maxim rises, lifting me with surprising gentleness and depositing me on the center of the massive bed. The cool silk sheets against my heated skin send a shiver through me as he follows, hovering above me with his weight supported by his muscular arms.

I pull him down for another kiss, opening my legs to accommodate him between them. He settles against me, and the hard length of his cock presses insistently against my vulva. The weight of him feels right somehow, grounding me in the reality of this extraordinary night.

"Condom," I whisper against his lips, my nurse's practicality asserting itself even now.

He reaches toward the bedside table, retrieving protection without commentary. I watch him roll it on quickly, momentarily grateful for his experience even as I wonder about its origins.

When he returns to me, his approach changes. He's slower now, and more deliberate. He kisses me deeply, then begins a journey downward, trailing his lips along my neck, collarbone, and between my breasts. His hands explore with methodical thoroughness, learning what makes my breath catch, and what draws forth the soft sounds of pleasure I try to suppress.

"Don't hold back," he murmurs against my skin. "I want to hear you."

His mouth finds my nipple again, teeth grazing just enough to send sparks of sensation shooting directly to my pussy. My back arches involuntarily, and a moan escapes before I can contain it. His pleased hum vibrates against my skin as he continues his exploration, moving lower with torturous patience.

When he settles between my thighs, looking up at me with undisguised hunger, I feel momentarily self-conscious again. "You don't have to?—"

"I want to." His breath is warm against my slit. "I want to taste you. May I?"

The formality of his request, contrasted with the raw desire in his eyes, undoes me completely. I nod, beyond words as his mouth descends. The first stroke of his tongue draws a startled cry from my lips. He's skilled, devastatingly so, alternating broad strokes with focused attention to my clit that has me clawing at the sheets.

He grips my thighs, holding me open to his ministrations as he works me with relentless precision. His tongue surges everywhere, exploring the shallowest indentation to the deepest space. When one finger slides inside me, then two, curving upward to find the spot that makes stars explode behind my eyelids, I nearly come undone. His rhythm increases, tongue circling my clit as his fingers work deeper, stretching me in preparation for what's to come.

My orgasm builds with surprising speed as tension coils at the base of my spine. "Maxim, I’m close…" I raise my hips to meet his mouth, beyond caring how wanton I appear.

He redoubles his efforts, and the dual stimulation of his tongue and fingers pushes me rapidly over the edge. Release crashes through me in waves, making me cry out. My inner walls clench around his fingers as pleasure overwhelms me. He works me through it, easing only when I tug weakly at his hair, overly sensitized and breathless.

Before I've fully recovered, he moves up my body, positioning himself at my entrance. He parts my thighs, and our gazes lock as he pushes forward slowly, giving me time to adjust to his considerable size. The sensation of fullness is exquisite, bordering on too much, yet somehow exactly right.

I exhale raggedly, gripping his shoulders as he seats himself fully inside me. "You feel..."

"Tell me," he urges, holding perfectly still despite the tension evident in every line of his body.

"Amazing." I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him impossibly deeper. "Perfect."

He begins to move then, establishing a rhythm that starts with aching slowness. Each thrust pushes me deeper into the mattress, the perfect counterpoint of giving and taking. His gaze never leaves mine, creating an intimacy more profound than the physical joining of our bodies.

I lose myself in the building pleasure, in the weight of him above me, and in the unexpected connection forged between strangers. When he shifts angle slightly, striking a spot inside that sends sparks shooting up my spine, I dig my nails into his back involuntarily.

"There?" A knowing smile crosses his face as he repeats the movement with overwhelming accuracy.

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