Page 56 of I Married a Mob Boss
We sit huddled together in his office for what feels like hours, but it's more like minutes as I play the events of my life the past ten years. Having Rico’s arms around me makes me feel safe as if no one will ever hurt me again, not even him. It's a feeling I've craved for years but never thought I'd achieve. He makes me feel invincible.
I draw myself in closer to his chest and slip my hands under his shirt. I flatten against him, trying to mold us into one person. I need more. So much more of him, it makes it hard for me to breathe.
“What do you need, Kitten? Tell me what you want.”
“You, Enrique. I need you,” I reply in an instant.
He hesitates for a fleeting second with his confused eyes bouncing between mine, assessing my face for any signs of distress. I made a similar demand the past two nights, but with my mind still trapped in shock, he refused to oblige me. That made me fall in love with him even more.
Failing to find a morsel of anguish on my face, he jumps to my command. I listen to the mad beat of his heart as his long strides follow the path I took thirty minutes ago. With every step he takes, the turmoil in his eyes changes, switching from tormented to yearning, not just to protect me, but to satisfy me as well. A tingle of excitement rushes down my spine, stirring the heated ache between my legs.
When he places me on the bed, I lace my fingers through his hair and pull him down with me. He growls, concerned his weight falling on me may have added to the small collection of bruises mottled across my skin.
“You didn’t hurt me. You never would.”
The groan of concern rumbling up his chest is swallowed by my mouth when I seal my lips over his. I kiss him tenderly, expressing my gratitude for everything he did and still does for me. He returns my kiss with the same amount of rawness, accepting my thanks while also issuing his own. My chest puffs high, creating room for my swollen heart.
As we kiss, lick and fondle each other, my fingers make quick work of Rico's clothes. I gasp in delight when I feel the warmth of his skin on mine. The muscles in his back twitch when I run my nails down the length of his spine, tracing the swirly pattern of his tattoo. A squeal unexpectedly topples from my mouth when he flips us over, so I'm straddled on top of him—his seemingly favorite position.
Small white lights flicker in front of my eyes when the heat of his swollen flesh nestles between my soaked sex. I grind against him three times before leaning over and resealing our lips. The temperature in the room increases with every rock of my hips and stroke of my tongue. He suckles my bottom lip into his mouth before he playfully bites it.
I yelp and pull away from him, laughing. "No biting. What are you, an animal?"
He cocks his head to the side and arches a brow. “A tiger playing with his little kitten.” His words come out so rough, they sound like a growl, and they send an electric current straight to my core.
The heated ache between my legs grows so exponentially, I'm tempted to scissor them together to ease the pain. I'm hot, wet, and needy. A flare of excitement crosses Rico's heavy-hooded gaze as he watches me squirming above him, but he does nothing to ease the discomfort his seven little words created.
“Please. . .” I aim for my pleading word to come out strong. My effort is borderline.
A soft purr escapes my parted lips when Rico thrust his hips upwards, dipping the first inch of his heated cock into my aching core. I arch my back and snap my eyes shut, giving my body time to adjust to the spark of vibrancy scorching through my veins only his touch can produce. My pussy contracts around him, urging him in deeper. With his hands on my hips, carefully guiding me, Rico takes his time, delivering every inch of his cock in painstakingly slow installments.
By the time he fully sheaths me, my first orgasm is already lingering deep in my womb. Sensing my climax is close, Rico stares me straight in the eyes, lowers his thumb to my clit, then flexes his cock. With his thumb placing the perfect pressure on the swollen bud of my clit, and the devoted look in his eyes, my climax hits fruition. I hold the gaze of the man who has saved me time and time again as the blessedness of an orgasm revitalizes my drained body. My pussy clamps around him as a cold sweat coats my skin. My orgasm isn’t the strongest I’ve had, but it's the most powerful mentally.
"This. I don't want to see any other look on your face but this.” He runs his spare hand across my pink-hued cheeks.
Once my pleasurable quivers ease, he moves his hand away from my clit and places it back onto my hip. He adjusts my position, so I am more open to him before slowly withdrawing his cock. The wetness of my climax soothes the sting I'm feeling from taking a man as wide-girthed as him.
I cry out in pleasure when he thrusts back in one fluid stroke. He goes so deep, he bottoms out at my cervix. I flatten my palms on his sweat-slicked pecs and meet his thrusts pump for pump. My heart rate surges when my spread hand is unable to hide my name swirled across his chest. Just like every time my eyes scan his name on my hip, a smile stretches across my face.If any name belongs marked on my body, it's his—my savior.
When he ups the tempo of his thrusts, I gyrate my hips and contract the walls of my vagina.
“Again,” Rico demands, his words breathless.
He screws me in a rhythm fast enough that my chase to climax matures with every thrust he makes, but slow enough there's no chance he will hurt me. That will never happen—physically or mentally.
Every grind of his cock increases the pressure building low in my womb. As my coil tightens, so does my grip on his pec muscles. When he adds a twist to his hips, I claw his chest, accidentally drawing blood. Regret clutches my throat when a droplet of vibrant red blood follows the little rivulets of sweat sliding down his torso. I snatch my hands away, mortified that I've maimed him. Rico seizes my wrist and places them back onto his chest before he continues pummeling into me, seemingly unaware of the injury I inflicted on him. Tears prick my eyes as the heaviness on my chest outweighs the climax brewing in my belly.
“No!” Rico shouts, startling me when a sly tear escapes my eye and trickles down my flushed cheek.
He glares into my eyes unyieldingly, his gaze so scorching, it dries my tears before they have the chance to fall. I bite on the inside of my cheek, struggling to keep my emotions at bay.
Remaining hilted in me, he rolls us over, so he is now on top of me. The weight of his body adds to the heaviness on my chest but in a soothing type of way. He stares down at me with sweat-damp hair falling around his face like a dark curtain before he slowly thrusts inside me. His pace is more controlled, as is the storm clouding his beautiful eyes. He gathers my hands with his and runs them over the little indents my nails made to his skin.
“These scars I’ll wear with pride,” he mutters, his truthful eyes adding to the strength of his statement.
He places my left hand on his left shoulder. Maintaining eye contact, he runs my hand down the side of his back, following the pattern of his tattoo. My lips quiver when the tips of my fingers run over a jagged surface hidden beneath his dark swirls of ink.
"Just like these," Rico continues, peering into my moisture filled eyes. "Every scar holds a story, Kitten. As long as that story includes you, I'll wear them with pride."
