Page 105 of Mafia Boss's Fake Wife

His eyes are so dark. “Wrap your hands around me and push me inside your sweet pussy, Roisin.”

I take one arm from his neck and grip him, shocked at how hard and smooth his cock is. Marco makes a groaning noise, and for one devilish second, I think about disobeying him.

His eyes flash. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he barks. “I’m going to watch you take every drop of my come, Roisin. Don’t you fucking dare think of anything else.”

Well.

I notch him at my entrance. My hand drifts back up to hold on to his strong neck, and slowly, he lowers me onto the length of his cock.

At first, there’s a stretch. He’s so huge; it would be hard to not feel every inch of him. I’m determined to keep a straight face so he doesn’t know I’ve never done this before.

But then he seems to go on.

And on.

And on.

I’m panting, practically writhing with the fullness, when finally I feel his hips bump against me. My legs wrap tightly around his hips and I hold on to his neck, clinging to him.

Impaled by him.

“You’re such a good girl, Roisin,” he croons in my ear. “Look how fucking well you take me. Look how I fit around you, my perfect girl.”

Jesus Christ. I never knew how bad of a praise kink I had until this precise moment.

“Marco,” I whisper.

I don’t know what else to do. What else to say.

Slowly, he starts to move.

It’s a little awkward at first. Marco and I scramble to find a rhythm, but once he starts to move my hips up and down, bouncing me over his thick cock, I finally figure it out. All the while, Marco whispers in my ear. He’s not saying anything particularly. He tells me that I’m a good girl, that I take him well, that my pussy fits him and only him.

I’m inclined to agree.

Especially because I have nothing to compare it to.

My legs are shaking, my arms feel like they’re going to melt, but Marco keeps moving me, the pace relentless and steady. I breathe, my eyes slowly shutting, lost in the rhythm of our bodies.

I’m almost lulled into a dreamy state…

And then the orgasm shatters my world.

I scream. I scream his name. I scream obscenities and words that I’m not even sure I really knew I had. Marco follows me, I think, because I’m vaguely aware of the fact that his movements have gone from smooth and calculated to rapid and jagged, and then he shouts my name as he comes.

I swear I can feel him come. I swear, there’s a jet of heat and a pulsing inside me that has nothing to do with the shower…

Especially because the shower is getting quite cold.

I shiver, Marco still inside me. His eyes go wide. “Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re cold.”

“I’m fine,” I say.

But I can't stop the goosebumps that chase over my skin.

Marco doesn’t bother to shut the shower off. He storms from the room, both of us dripping. Gently, he deposits me on the floor in front of the fire. “Stay here,” he mutters.

I shiver, the fire warming my skin as I watch him retreat and return with two oversized fluffy towels.

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