The words are uttered like a threat, pressed against my mussed hair, but my heart beats brighter with each dark promise.
I don’t want to run from this man; don’t want to spend a single day apart. Why the hell would I ever want that? And his obsession with me? The possessive glint in his eye when he looks my way?
I love it. I can’t get enough.
“You’ve picked your man now, Holly, and I hope you like this cock, because it’s the only one you’ll ever take. But I’ll make it good for you, baby. I’ll make you cry out every day for the rest of our lives, you’ll see.”
I bury my smile in his throat, ears ringing with these filthy declarations.
Who knew the enforcer would be so chatty?
“Gonna put a ring on your finger and my seed in your belly. Is that what you want? Huh? A little baby of your own?”
Rough teeth scrape along my shoulder, and I let out a blissful sigh.
Yes, it’s what I want.He’swhat I want. My scarred mobster. The man from my daydreams.
“Holly. You listening to this?”
I choke out a laugh, nodding my head, and his shaft is so thick, sliding in and out me as I roll my hips. It’s so intimate, I can feel his heartbeat down there.
“Yeah, I’m listening. I want it all, Diego.” Everything he’s offering me and more: I want it all.
His breath gusts past my ear. “Good. That’s settled, then.”
And it’s such a funny thing to say, such a weird way to settle things between us, but it’s perfect too. I wouldn’t change a single thing. And as Diego’s thumb finds my clit again, rubbing steady circles, my mouth drops open on a silent scream.
Blood rushes in my ears. I stiffen on his lap, muscles twitching. My whole body flashes boiling hot, nerves throwing off sparks, and I come and come and come until I crash against his chest with a ragged groan.
Yeesh.
His shirt buttons dig into my cheek. Definitely need to get him naked next time.
“Holly,” Diego says. “Fuck, Holly.”
He swells inside me, throbbing. Pulses once, twice, three times, both hands gripping my hips and holding us sealed tight together as if I might try and pull away. As if I don’t love his wet warmth spilling inside me.
Ha. He’ll learn.
“Mmph,” I say into his shoulder, leaving a drool patch on his shirt. “Oh my god. That felt good. That was good, right?”
“Yeah.” His breaths are ragged, his chest heaving against my cheek. “Yeah. Better than good. That was the best thing I’ve felt in my whole fucking life.”
And we sit there together, hot and sticky and rumpled in our chair, swapping breaths back and forth and trading sweet kisses.
Next time, I tell him, we’ll try the bed. Or maybe the shower.
“Whatever you want, baby.” Diego’s beard tickles the top of my head as he kisses me there. “From now on, it’s whatever you want.”
* * *
Three days later
I scoop up another handful of snow, my fingers numb inside the pair of leather gloves I borrowed from Diego this morning. The wind nips at my cheeks, and the midday sun is bright as I pat my handful against the snowman’s belly.
“The shape is all wrong,” Ruth murmurs, working on the lopsided white head. “His shoulders are quite wide, have you noticed? And his waist is trim. It’s too bad he hates everyone and everything or he’d be a real catch.”
I snort, bending down for another handful. We’re out on the De Rossi grounds, half-hidden by the hedge maze, and I’m so glad to see my sister relaxed and pink-cheeked that I could skip around the whole mansion.