Page 111 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride
I lift my head, staring into her eyes. "Do what feels good, baby."
She rocks back and forth, like she's testing the sensation. Then she rises over me, slides down again. In a matter of moments, she's found a rhythm, and I’m in perfect sync with her.
I hold her gaze, looking into eyes that don’t fear me now.
"You're beautiful," I tell her, because it's true and because I want her to know I see her.
I've never been a man who believed in fate. In my world, things happen because someone makes them happen, usually at the end of a gun.
The exception had been Emilia, who’d captured my very soul the moment I met her.
And maybe now, Isabella, who I watch move over me, her lovely face transformed by pleasure. Perhaps this was meant to be as well.
“Roman.” Her breath catches. Her fingers dig into my shoulders.
“Come, Isabella. Make yourself come on my cock.” I’m hard as a rock, needing to come, but that takes a backseat to her. I’m transfixed by her. How she’s surrendered her body to pleasure. To me.
I slide a finger over her clit and rub. She cries out, throwing her head back as her pussy grips my dick. Immediately, a tsunami of pleasure crashes through me.
“Fuck… yeah…” I grip her hips as I buck beneath her, my orgasm pumping inside her. We move together, our bodies slick, warm.
She collapses against my chest, her breathing ragged against my neck.
I wrap my arms around her, holding her close, feeling the thundering of her heart against mine.
For a moment, we stay like that, connected, silent. The only sound is our breathing slowly returning to normal.
I wonder what she’s thinking. Is she worried about sleeping with the enemy? Does she fully understand my warnings? Does she believe that I’m going to find answers for her?
It occurs to me that perhaps I should heed my own warnings. Isabella is right in that the answers could lead me somewhere that could put me in opposition to La Corona.
I consider all the complications this new development adds to an already dangerous situation. Marco would tell me I'm being reckless, letting emotion cloud my judgment.
He'd be right.
But watching Isabella now, her guard temporarily lowered, I know there's no going back.
Whatever game is being played, whatever truth we uncover about her mother's death, we're in this together now.
My world is bound to hers and vice-versa.
I hope to hell we survive.
20
ISABELLA
What am I doing?
Every rational part of me screams to keep my distance from this man.
His lecture tonight was to remind me to behave, to remind me of my perilous situation.
He's an enforcer, a killer, and yet he's the only person who seems genuinely interested in discovering what happened to my mother.
Not for gain or leverage, but because he sees the pieces don't fit together.
I’m in a state of confusion. I feel safe with him, despite everything. Wanted, despite our arrangement. The contradiction of it all makes my head spin.
