Page 115 of The Mafia's Bride
Sloane walks in looking like the morning sun, bright red hair piled high with her lush body wrapped into a tight pink sundress that shows off all her curves. If my business wasn’t in Boston, I’d pack her up and live in the tropics just to keep her in those dresses.
I’m sure she isn’t wearing any panties, and my groin tightens with the urge to find out.
“You called?” she asks, sliding to my side, perching on to the arm of my chair. I smirk at Roman’s furious expression, feeling a surge of pride as she gently strokes my neck, like a good, obedient wife.
It’s all for show, but Roman doesn’t know that.
“You cheating bastard,” he accuses.
My eyebrows raise innocently. “I never took you as a sore loser.”
“This was a set up.”
“A set up?” My voice hardens. “In which I didn’t know you’d be here today, claiming repayment for a debt I didn’t make?”
Killian chuckles behind him. “This is going to be fun.”
Standing to my full height, I brace against the desk. “The deal is done. The De Luca family doesn’t owe you jack shit. If you want to argue differently,” I glance over to Killian, “I’m sure Ace’s personal attack dog would be willing to handle your grievances. He seems to have some aggression to work out.”
“Please argue,” the killer coos. My shoulders tense at the decidedlyhappy tone and the way he flips that black knife in his large palm. Where did that come from? “I haven’t killed anyone in three days.”
Properly cowed, Bruno abruptly leaves my office, Tony and Killian on his heels. Leaving me with my wife in the relative silence of the office.
“Did I win?” Sloane asks, sliding into my vacate seat.
“Yes, menace, you won. Like you thought you would,” I drawl, dropping my gloves on to my desk. My cock twitches, enjoying her in my chair.
Grinning at me, she delicately opens her legs, allowing me to peer up her skirt. No panties, just like I thought. Her perfectly pink pussy glistens, already wet and ready for me to lick clean.
“Then I get to pick my prize.”
I grin. “You do,” I agree, dropping my jacket on to the desk. “What did you have in mind?”
She crooks her finger, daring me closer. Once within touching distance, she grabs my hair, pulling me close, lips brushing her vibrantly red ones.
She smells like rose and sex, and I want to paint her in my cum just to remind her who she belongs to. Just so I know I’m always with her.
“What do you want, husband?”
My hands slide up her thighs, pushing the skirt to her hips. Right over her breast, the healed tissue of her brand catches my eye, and I drop to my knees, intent on replacing any bad thoughts she might have with only me.
“Let me use my tongue to taste this beautiful cunt.” My words rumble from my chest. “And let me hear those screams I’m so found of.”
She smirks, leaning back. But that won’t do. I want more, I need all of this.
I throw one leg over the armchair, the other doing the same. Her thick curves are held by the Italian leather, her dress bunches around her waist.
“Fucking hell, woman.” I ease forward, placing my nose at the apex of her thighs, smelling her. “You look like heaven sitting like this before me.”
Her cheeks flush and her eyes darken with lust.
“Take out your hair.”
She licks her lips, pulling the locks free. They curl around her chest, over her breasts like red silk.
“Let me see those beautiful tits, menace.” My throat is dry. I’m dying to taste her, to see her lose control and soak my face. “Play with them while I lick this pussy and you ride my face.”
Without hesitation, she pulls down her bodice, full breasts falling free.
