Page 60 of Mafia Don's Twisted Proposal
The sound he makes is inhuman.
“Fuck. That’s it, baby. Use your mouth on me.”
His chest heaves as I run my tongue along the underside of his shaft before wrapping my lips around the head. I take my time, exploring, learning what makes his breathing hitch and his hands fist in the sheets.
I’ve never particularly enjoyed giving head before, but this? Having Lorenzo at my mercy, watching him lose control because of what I’m doing to him? It’s a rush better than any bungee jump.
I work him deeper, relaxing my throat, and his hips jerk involuntarily. My own arousal builds with every groan I pull from him, wetness gathering between my thighs until I can’t help squirming.
He notices. Of course he notices.
His hand fists in my hair, pulling me off him with a wet pop. “Get up here and sit on my face.”
“W-what?”
His chuckle is wicked, dangerous. “You heard me. Sit. On. My. Face.”
A full-body shiver runs through me as I crawl up his body on shaking knees. I’ve never done this before, and panic flickers through me. What if I crush him? What if I can’t?—
Lorenzo clearly doesn’t share my concerns. He grips my hips and flips me around, positioning me right where he wants me, yanking my shorts to the side before I can overthink it.
His tongue goes straight for my clit, and I cry out, my thighs trembling as he devours me like a man starved.
“Oh god, yes,” I gasp, bracing myself on his chest.
His only response is a rumbling moan against my sensitive flesh that vibrates through my entire body.
His cock is right there, still hard and waiting, and I don’t hesitate to take him back into my mouth. The new angle lets me take him deeper, and when I swallow around him, his grip on my ass tightens almost painfully.
He’s everywhere—his tongue working my clit, his fingers pressing inside me, his cock filling my mouth. The sensory overload builds and builds until I can’t tell where I end and he begins.
When he sucks hard on my clit while curling his fingers just right, I shatter. My orgasm crashes over me just as he pulses in my mouth, and I swallow every drop while my body quakes with aftershocks.
I collapse on top of him, boneless and breathing hard, my head resting on his thigh. He shifts us until we’re lying on our sides, facing each other.
“Get used to doing that, baby,” he says with that cocky smirk I’m growing dangerously fond of. “I want you riding my face every day.”
I prop my head up on my elbow. “That’s a little unrealistic, but if you insist...”
His laugh is rich and warm, and I file away the sound like a treasure.
He leans over and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’m going to shower. We’ll figure out the honeymoon details later.”
As I watch him collect his scattered clothes, a realization hits me like a ton of bricks. This gorgeous, dangerous, complicated man belongs to me. Somehow, despite the insane circumstances, despite my better judgment, my heart is opening up to him.
He makes me happy.
There’s still so much I don’t know about him, so much ground to cover, but for the first time since I woke up married to a stranger, I think maybe, just maybe, this could actually work.
Lorenzo disappears into the primary suite bathroom, and I follow, stopping in the bedroom to get dressed. I toss my pajamas in the hamper and head to the walk-in closet.
My LA wardrobe hangs sadly in one corner, but I’ve been gravitating toward the new clothes Lorenzo bought me. I never realized what I was missing, living paycheck to paycheck. These fabrics feel like silk against my skin, and the cuts make me look like I stepped off a magazine cover.
I’m not staying for the money, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a nice perk.
I pull a blue dress from its hanger and turn toward the shoe rack, but something catches my eye. The back wall of the closet looks...wrong. One of the panels is askew, creating a dark gap I never noticed before.
Curious, I push Lorenzo’s suits aside and reach for the loose panel. It comes away easily, revealing a small hidden compartment.
