Page 52 of Mafia Captor

His body tenses against mine. Sore subject? He waits a beat, as if he’s debating how much to share. “The last person I dated… it was a mistake.”

I’m so curious. To go so long without being in a committed relationship, then suddenly propose to a person you basically had just met? What changed?

“But five years.” Peeking up at his expression, I speak gently, like one would to a cornered, wounded animal. I don’t want to spook him, but I want more information. “That’s a long time.”

“I made some mistakes while I was with her. I don’t want to repeat them.” He shakes his head, meeting my eyes. “So, I stayed single.”

There’s a heaviness in his gaze, a lace of shame in his tone. He makes me think this is about more than not repeating mistakes, but rather, not forgiving himself for them. Did he do something unforgiveable? I want to know but I also know when to stop pushing.

And my body is begging me to change the subject once more.

I lighten my tone. “Well, I do feel privileged to be the first one to get to enjoy your garden this way.”

“God, you’re beautiful.” He pinches my breasts, slips the hair from the back of my neck, his warm kisses returning to my skin. I lose my will to fend him off, my hand dropping away from the knot in my dress. I trust him. Anyway, if someone wants to see, let them look. A little laugh hides inside me at the brazen thought.

His hands smooth over my now-toned—thanks to our twice-weekly couples workout sessions—biceps.

He’s bringing out a new Ashely. A sexier, healthier, braver Ashely.Ashe,even. He’s tricked my brain into starting to think of myself the way he sees me… Ashe, the sexy goddess of a woman who fucks her man outdoors, in a garden, wearing the imported lingerie he paid for.

He’s not seen this set yet…

His nimble fingers delicately untie the string holding my modesty intact. A butterfly flutter of a breath tickles through me as the material slips open. He’s pulling it down, kissing every inch of my shoulder as he exposes it to the warm sun.

“Damn, girl. You look good in everything, don’t you?” He nips at my skin, pushing the fabric out of his way. My dress slides down my back and flutters to the ground. I sense him taking a step back. I feel his eyes on me. “But you look best in nothing at all.”

His fingers reach for the clasp of my bra.

I spin around to face him. “Not so fast. I want you to get the full view first. You did pay for this lingerie, after all.”

The shyness eases from my body. I’m emboldened by his devouring stare. He wants me. He loves the way I look.

The way he looks at me, the rash proposal that made no sense to me at the time. All the things he does for me. The way he accepts me just how I am, knows what I need. Doesn’t try to control me but in the bedroom is in total control in the most delicious way.

No one seems toknowme, know me, like he does.

I’m starting to think… he just might… love me…

“You look so. Damn. Good.” He teases me, reaching out and dragging a finger over my budding nipple as it strains against the bra’s see-through fabric, his other hand gripping my panties. I shiver a little, letting him look. His teeth sink into his bottom lip. A rumble of a growl rises from him. “They’re cock-busting. Now can I tear them off? Pretty please?”

I jut a hip out, lowering a brow. It’s like I’m out of my body, being this other person, but she’s me too. I grab his hand, guiding it to the silky triangle over my waxed pussy. “I don’t think you’ve fully appreciated them yet. Why don’t you feel the fabric. See how soft it is.”

“My God, girl. Are you trying tokillme?” He closes his eyes, moaning as he strokes his fingers over the gusset of my panties.

The thrill of power excites me. For once,I’min control. A sly smile crossing my lips. “Keep stroking.”

Flames of heat lick at my earlobe, his deep, raspy voice at my ear. “You getting bossy with me, babygirl?”

“Maybe.” I inch my hip to the left, the perfect position for his nimble fingers. Another stroke and I’m going to incinerate.

“Every single warm-blooded body on this property is to obey your command.” His hands slip up the back of my neck, gathering my curls and crushing them as he wraps my locks around his fingers. He gives a tug—hard enough to spark pain, gentle enough to fill my pussy with a warm, liquid-y craving. “But me, babygirl? I’m the only one who commands you. And you will never, ever, be in control with me.”

My sex throbs, desire thickening my tone. “You make me feel out of control.”

“And you love it.” His mouth finds mine, hot and slick and wanting. His tongue swipes against mine with the perfect amount of pressure. He strokes me harder, faster over my sexy, silky panties. The tiniest little thunderbolt of an orgasm ricochets through me, making me give a shiver of delight, my shoulders shaking.

“Good girl. There’s my baby. You’re so pretty when you come.” He slips his fingers past the elastic band of my panties, pushing two thick fingers inside of me. Wobbling slightly, my hands grab at his shoulders, to steady me, to keep my feet planted on the ground. I widen my stance, letting him in further. His fingers curve, stroke, hitting some kind of spot inside me that sends me bolting up on my tiptoes.

He pets me, cooing in my ear as he draws another, longer orgasm from me. Fingertips digging into his muscles, I exhale, rocking back on my heels. “Oh my God.”

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