Page 12 of Mafia Don's Twisted Proposal
“Fuck, don’t do that.” His voice is strained. “Not when I’m already hanging by a thread.”
“Don’t do what?” I bat my eyelashes with practiced innocence that’s mostly fake.
“Stare at my cock like you’re wondering what it tastes like.”
“What if I am?”
The sound he makes is pure torture. His hand wraps around himself, stroking slowly. “Get naked, wife. Show me every beautiful inch.”
I’ve never been good at taking orders. But something about the way he says ‘wife’—possessive and hungry—makes me want to obey. Maybe it’s the way my pussy clenches at the word. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent my whole life being overlooked, and he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing that matters.
I don’t let myself think about whether this is smart. My body is making decisions my brain isn’t equipped to handle right now.
The second I’m naked, he’s on me. His lips claim mine while his hands map every curve, every hollow. He doesn’t just grab my tits and ass like most guys would. No, Lorenzo traces my waist like he’s memorizing it, slides his palm from hip to knee like my thigh is sacred ground. His thumb glides along my collarbone in a touch so intimate it steals my breath.
His cock presses against my slit, hot and hard, not entering but teasing. I wrap my legs around his waist, ankles linking at the small of his back. Our eyes lock as he positions himself at my entrance.
We both groan when he drives into me with one brutal thrust that sends me sliding up the mattress.
“Christ, you feel incredible.” His voice is wrecked. “Worth the wait.”
Those words stick in my brain like a splinter. The wait? We literally just met. But he says it like he’s been building up to this moment for longer than one drunken night.
But thinking becomes impossible when he starts moving. Each thrust drives thought from my head, replacing it with pure sensation. My heart pounds against my ribs. Sweat slicks my skin. Pleasure races through my veins like wildfire.
He shifts my legs onto his shoulders, bending me nearly in half. The new angle lets him hit something deep inside that makes stars explode behind my eyelids.
“Yes!” I don’t care how loud I’m being. Let the whole hotel hear. “God, yes, it’s so good. Take me.”
My praise unleashes something primal in him. He growls—actually growls—and grips my hips hard enough to bruise. His pace turns desperate, almost violent. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, and I lose myself completely.
Pressure builds in my core, a storm gathering strength. “I’m going to—I can’t?—”
The orgasm rips through me like lightning. My back arches, toes curling, and I scream his name as I shatter. Lorenzo follows me over the edge, his movements turning frantic before he buries himself deep and comes with a roar that probably rattled the windows.
For a moment, we’re suspended in something bigger than just physical pleasure. There’s a connection here, something taking root in my chest that I don’t understand but can’t deny. I wrap my arms around him, and he presses a kiss to my temple that feels impossibly tender.
But then he pulls away, and reality crashes back down.
“Let’s get cleaned up and go home.”
Home.
The word hits me like a splash of freezing water. He seriously expects me to move in with him. I haven’t lived with anyone since I moved out of my parents’ house five years ago. The idea of sharing space with a man I’ve never even had a real conversation with makes my skin crawl.
“I’m going tomyhome,” I say. “In LA. You know, where I have a life. An apartment. A job.”
Lorenzo looks at me like I’m a child having a tantrum. “You don’t need to work now that you’re married to me. I have more than enough money to take care of you.”
For one insane second, I actually consider it. Who wouldn’t want to quit a shit job and never worry about money again?
But at the cost of my independence? Hell no.
“I can take care of myself.”
“You’re my wife, Mia.” For the first time, irritation flashes in his eyes. “You’re coming home with me. I’m a man who gets what he wants, by whatever means necessary.”
Ice slides down my spine. I need space to think.
