Page 116 of The Mafia's Bride
Mio Dioshe’s going to kill me.
“Touch yourself, Sloane. I want to see your hands there while my hands hold these gorgeous legs.”
My fingers rake against her skin, red lines curving into her flesh. She hisses, pulling at her nipples with earnest.
My mouth lowers, not wasting time to suck her clit between my teeth. She shoots forward, one hand sinking into my dark curls, nail scratching my scalp.
“Fuck,” I groan, enjoying the way her taste explodes on my tongue. “Sloane, you taste incredible.”
“You just had me,” she breathes, holding me to her center. My tongue laps at her lips, swirling insider her core.
I groan. “And I could feast on you every day, every hour. You taste like divinity.”
Nibbling along her folds, I hold her open wide, diving in with intent. I memorize her taste, the feel of her body in my hands, thankful I get this one more time with her.
All those weeks ago, could have been the end of this.
I won’t let it be. I need Sloane. She is my salvation, my hope, my fears, the embodiment of my heart outside my body. If I have to worship on my knees for the rest of my life to remind her of my love and devotion, then I will.
Lifting up her hips, I press close, fingers trailing up her legs. Soonshe’s moaning, withering in my grasp just like I want. I need this as much as she does.
I need those whimpers, the way her body tenses, how her hips buck against my face chasing her high.
It’s not long before I feel her core clench around my tongue. Fuck, she’s close. I replace my tongue with my fingers, paying attention to her clit. Flicking my tongue, I pump my fingers, curling them upward, bringing her higher still.
“Lex,” she moans, one hand pinching her nipple, the other holding me closer. Her makeup is smeared, her hair mussed, and she’s never looked more beautiful.
Sloane is my fucking perfect mess and I need more.
“Come for me, baby, let everyone hear what I do to you. Scream.”
She rocks twice more before she falls over the edge, her body going stiff as the orgasm crests. She soaks my face, dripping on to my seat.
I’m never wiping it off. I want her to mark every piece of furniture in this office.
Standing, I grab her hair, holding her head to my face. “You made a mess, Sloane. Clean it up.”
My chin is damp, and eagerly, her tongue darts out, lapping up at the juices there. She does three passes before I catch her tongue, sucking her into my mouth, draining her taste from her mouth.
I want all of her, forever. I won’t even share with her.
I lift her, pulling her hair until it’s wrapped around my wrist.
“Over the desk, menace. Ass out.”
Shoving her down, I place a hand on her neck, keeping her legs wide. Her pussy drips, coating her thighs. My cock is painfully hard, enraged and ready.
“You did so well, coming when I called for you,” I praise. I know Sloane has a praise kink, wanting that satisfaction that she did right.
Her shoulders drop, her red nails clawing into my desk. I’ll have marks there come tonight before business and God, I can’t wait to see it.
A beautiful, dirty memory just for me.
“You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” I ask, hand gripping her ass, spreading her cheeks.
Fuck, I want every hole, every part of her to be claimed by me. I plan on exploring every inch of her tolerance, every bit of her body until it’s permanently holding my marks.
“Answer me.” I yank her head back, biting her earlobe. “Tell me you’re my good girl, Sloane.”
