Page 142 of The Don's Secret Heir

He groans. “Only if you promise to never call me that again.”

I laugh. “Noted.”

We make it back to the hotel around one in the morning. My heels have blistered my feet, so he carries me up the elevator.

I hide my face in his neck, embarrassed.

“People are going to think I’m drunk.”

“Youaredrunk,” he says with a chuckle.

“No I’m not. Only tipsy. Champagne doesn’t make me drunk.”

“Enough of it will,” he says, carrying me over the threshold and dropping me down on the bed.

I bounce playfully.

I glance over and see a full-length mirror next to the bed.

I raise an eyebrow. “Did you pick this place out yourself?”

“Sure did,” he says, unbuttoning his shirt. He’s already shed his suit jacket.

My skin starts to heat up. “You like watching yourself?”

“No, baby. I like watchingyou.”

I bite my lip.

“Oh?”

He hums, getting behind me on the bed and settling me against his chest. He unbuttons the small buttons on my bodice and I wiggle out of it, my breasts bouncing free. Before I can start to pull down the rest of the dress, his hands cup my breasts.

His thumbs drag ever so slowly across my nipples and I gasp as they harden in the cool air.

He moves his hands to my hips to push off the rest of my dress, and it pools on the floor.

I look at myself in the mirror, face flushed, naked, hiding my breasts.

“Who are you hiding from,belissima? Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Not like this,” I whisper, and then he grunts, scooting backward and opening my thighs wide. I gasp, looking at myself, at how I glisten, and he groans against my neck.

His erection is already pressing into my back, but he doesn’t seem bothered or hurried in the slightest.

He moves his fingers between my lower lips, spreading me further, sweeping his thumb across my clit over and over until my thighs are trembling.

“Ah, fuck, Dario, you’re going to make me come.”

“Then let go for me, baby. I want you to see yourself make a mess all over my fingers.”

I can’t keep my eyes open. They roll back into my head when he plunges two fingers inside me. Already worked up, I start coming around his fingers, my inner walls clenching.

Dario curses in Italian.

He fumbles with himself behind me and then groans as his erection is freed. He feels hot against my bare back and my breath catches in my throat.

He lifts me up by my hips, impaling me on his cock. I cry out his name in a guttural moan, throwing my head back as he enters me slowly, inch by inch.