Page 47 of Forgive Me, Father

My finger still worked her clit, and finally the scream tore from her lips as her pussy convulsed around my cock.

Her juices poured from her, taking me over the edge.I pulled out and came all over her stomach.

I grunted like a bear as I spilled my sperm.She laughed, satisfied.Music to my ears that my little runaway enjoyed me as much as I enjoyed her.

My mind was hazy, and I rolled onto my back next to her, trying to catch my breath.The heat clung to every corner of the room, thick and stifling, I needed a shower, badly.

She could use one too, the flush in her cheeks and the sheen on her skin saying more than words ever could.

The fact that the bedside light was on was a shocker.Usually, women wanted darkness to shy away in on their first time, but not my little runaway.Oh no, she ran to the light.

She laughed softly, then let her head fall against my shoulder.I pressed a kiss to her hair, breathing her in.She was my home now, chaotic, beautiful, unexpected.And no matter what it took, I’d find a way to make this work.I had to.

SEVENTEEN

THE LITTLE RUNAWAY

The next morning,I woke to the scent of fresh coffee and warm pastries.

Alfonso stood beside the bed, carrying a tray with practiced ease.He wore an absurdly luxurious white robe, and somehow made it look even more expensive just by being on him.

Imagining absolutely nothing behind the material already set a lot of things happening between my legs into motion.

A slow ache rippled through my body as I sat up, every movement a vivid reminder of the night before.I winced, then smiled, each twinge was a quiet echo, a delicious pain that marked this new reality and it only fucked with my hormones that much more.

I shifted just enough for him to set the wooden tray across my lap, the warmth of the moment settling in deeper than the aches.

The savory scent of scrambled eggs and crispy bacon pulled me from my thoughts, warm and comforting.Then I saw them, golden blueberry muffins, fresh from the oven, their sweet aroma mingling with the rest and making my mouth water.

“Want some coffee?”Alfonso offered.

“I would love a cup, thanks.”I picked up a muffin and took a bite.It almost melted on my tongue as the sweetness pulled the sides of my jaw.

Alfonso set the cup of coffee beside me, the rich scent of Italian roast filling the air like a call to wakefulness.The creamy brew slid across my tongue, its warmth enveloping me with a softness that felt almost intimate, as if it kissed my tastebuds with every sip.

A girl could get used to this.

It was the first real breakfast I had with my husband.

“Did your parents at least come to say goodbye to you?”

They didn’t, but it wasn’t new.A quick shake of my head gave him my answer.

“I see.”

“It’s complicated.”

“All families are, especially Don families.”

I chuckled, food still in my mouth, before chewing thoroughly.He wasn’t wrong.The families, whether at the top or just starting to rise, were all tangled in their own webs of complexity.

“Why doesn’t the internet have anything on you?”I blurted out the question.

“I’m sure there are a few things on me.If you know where to look.”

“It has a lot of posts on your brothers and father, and I think they actually have the White Rabbit mixed up with either Luca or Roberto.”

He laughed at that.“It’s such a stupid name.”

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