Page 44 of Claimed By the Possessive Mafia Prince
That’s the thing. I think I want him to be the other thing. What did he say?
A demon in the sheets.
CHAPTER 16
DARIO
“You’d better lie on your front,” I say, gazing down at her.
Her chest rises and falls as if she’s struggling to get enough air. She can play all the games she wants, claim we’re just friends, but her eyes don’t lie. Her body doesn’t lie.
“Are you a trained massage therapist?”
“I’m confident I can make you feel good, if that’s what you’re asking.”
She rolls onto her front. The ache in my groin intensifies, hardness flooding into me, as I reach down and slip my hands under her pajama shirt.
“You’re burning up,” I groan.
“I know,” she whispers.
“You’re so fucking hot.”
“I know, Dario,” she says, trying and failing to hold back a moan.
I smooth my hands up and down her back, over the strap of her bra to her shoulders. She bites down on the pillow as I glide my hands over her voluptuous body, but she can’t repress her moans. Her form shivers as I make hungry tracks up and down, down and up…
When I unclip her bra, she gasps. “What are you doing?”
“It’s getting in the way.”
“Okay, yeah.” She shudders. “Fair point.”
“Your shirt is getting in the way, too.”
“Is it?”
“Yes,” I snarl.
“I mean, if you’re sure?”
“I’m certain.”
“Okay, then turn around.”
“You don’t have to be shy around me.”
“This is just a massage, Dario.”
“You’re moaning like it’s more than it is. Here, let me help.”
Her moans become more meaningful when I grip her shirt and pull it over her head. She leans up slightly, lifting her arms, but staying on her front so I can’t see her breasts.
Precome leaks hotly from my swollen, hungry dick when I see her bare back, her bra strap lying loosely. I almost lose control when she wriggles against the sheets, the fabric twisting around her legs.
I continue to massage her, feeling the stress knots in her body, kneading them loose.
“You deserve to relax,” I say. “You work so damn hard.”
