Page 21 of Mafia Sinner

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Mila

I’m slapped in the face by a climax so powerful I almost pass out. Hitting every part of me at once. My mouth falls open but I can’t speak. My toes curl, my fingers ball into fists.

My body shakes in place, obeying his command without any input from my mind. Something deep inside me wants to please him, to do what he tells me.

Why is that?

I can’t think about that question now. The pleasure is too great. I’m shaking when he carries me in his arms, walking out of the study, my panties still around my thighs.

The air is cool, chilling me slightly as he walks up the wide staircase, looking ahead of him, not at me. I stare upward, taking in that hard set jaw, that neat hair, those sparkling eyes full of forbidden promise.

I still hate him. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to feel these things but it’s too late now.

My life was simple. Miserable but simple. I had an ex who treated me like I had no say in breaking up with him, kept telling me we’d get back together, that I’d get over my mental break and realize he was the best thing that ever happened to me.

He was nothing compared to Alexsei. Carrying me gently, protecting me, taking care of me. When did anyone ever take care of me?

Never. Not even when my mother was alive. I was always seen as a burden, to be ignored, to be used. Not to be valued.

Until now.

Alexsei kicks open a bedroom door, setting me on my feet, his fingers tracing the bruises on my neck. “No one will ever hurt you again,” he says. “You are under my protection now.”

I believe him and it’s comforting to feel his strength surrounding me, the power he emanates, the ability to make decisions quickly, to know the inner mind of those around him.

I’ve never met a man like Alexsei, a man who can make me melt like this, who can spank me and make me come, make me hate him and lust after him, often in the same moment.

It’s the arrogance, his certainty that he can make me beg for sex. Worst of all, it’s knowing that he’s right. Within minutes of him laying me on the enormous bed, I have to bite my lip to keep from begging him to fuck me.

He’s removed every stitch of my clothing but he’s still dressed. I feel exposed yet safe.

Terry kept trying to see me naked, I kept telling him I wasn’t ready.

It’s different with Alexsei. He looks at me like I’m beautiful, like I’m the only thing in the world that matters. He runs his hands down my body, circling my nipples, playing with them as I gasp, my body still recovering from my climax.

“You will have my children,” he says, his hands sliding lower, pushing my hips apart. He kisses my thighs, his breath hot on my pussy. “You smell sweet,” he adds, his tongue reaching out and delving deep into me. “And you taste even better.”

I run my hands through his hair as he licks my clit expertly, teasing more arousal from me, making me wetter than I’ve ever been. His hands loop around my thighs, holding me in place, letting me grind against his face.

One hand shifts a minute later, a thick finger plunging into me. I shove myself down onto him, feeling another orgasm approaching already. I tense up, ready, but just when it’s about to hit, he stops, moving away from me.

“What?” I ask. “Why?”

He smiles, loosening his tie. “You’re naked. It’s only fair that I am too.”

I watch with greedy eyes as he slides the tie free, unbuttoning his shirt, shucking his jacket from his shoulders. As his chest comes into view I see tattoos and scars. So many of both. He turns away from me to fold his jacket neatly over the arm of a chair. More scars on his back. He looks like he’s been whipped.

“Who did that?” I ask.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replies, turning back, pushing his pants down his legs. His underwear goes with them, his cock springing out, pointing toward me, a tip of fluid gathered at the very tip. Isit up, reaching for it, wanting to taste it.

He lets me, guiding my hands down to the root of his shaft. I take him into my mouth, something I’ve never done before. “Good girl,” he says. “Use that tongue of yours. Show me how much you want me.”

I draw him in deep, gagging on him before pulling free, gasping for air. I lick the ridges of his cock, flicking over the tip, watching his expression change. He finally lets down the shield around him. I see the real him. Hurt, vulnerable.

It’s only there for a moment before he seems to come back to himself. He grabs me, pushing me onto my back. “You want this?” he asks, climbing over me, holding his cock so it brushes my clit. “Don’t you?”

“I do.”


Tags: Rosa Milano Romance