Page 82 of Texting My Mafia Boss

I should’ve had a family. Ettore never should’ve been forced into this life. Lots of things should have happened. All we can do now is choose what happens next.

And I want this so, so badly.

He kisses down my body, then looks at my sex with an expression of awe and obsession. He stares as if he can’t believe how lucky he is, his eyes fixated.

“Mara,” he says my name like a prayer. “Oh, Mara…”

He presses his face against my sex, opening his mouth so that he can lick up and down my folds, then my clit. The whole time, he gently rubs at my entrance, circling it with his finger. I shift my hips against him, feeling hot and urgent and ready for him.

He kisses my clit, then groans and sucks it into his mouth. When he pushes his tongue against it, the pressure is exquisite, a point of pure heat. I push my core against him. He snarls and slips his finger inside, pushing deep, my walls responding instantly, aching heat that swells inside me.

Releasing my clit, he begins to lick me while slipping his finger in and out. I do my best to be quiet, turning my head, biting on mypillow. He groans into the semidarkness, “The way you’re biting that pillow makes me want to blow in my pants.”

I whimper, shivering against him. “You—better—not.”

He laughs knowingly, then returns his full attention to my core. The hottest part is how obsessed he sounds, noises of pure hunger. He groans and snarls, quietly, huskily, but enough to make me understand how badly he needs this… how badly he wants to make me come.

I grind my hips in time with his fingers. He flickers his tongue against my clit, then opens his mouth so he can take all of me in. I know how much he loves my wetness, remembering what he said about my taste that first time.

I sit up on my elbow so that I can look at him. He tears off his shirt, then quickly stands and pulls down his pants. His length springs up, a bead of precome glistening at the tip. He casually strokes his hand up and down his shaft, spreading the wetness.

Then he returns to me, but it’s hotter this time. His groans are more intense, hot breath painting me. He’s got one hand between his legs. That’s what really sends me over the edge, knowing his strong hand is wrapped around his huge shaft, stroking up and down, getting himself ready for?—

And then I can’t think anything anymore. Beautiful heat swells between my legs. His mouth is a ball of fire. He makes sloppy, wet, filthy noises with his fingers, pumping his arm. I ride his hand and his mouth, staring down, watching his shoulder catch the light as he pumps his hand up and down his length.

The orgasm makes me clench tightly, every muscle gathering its force, before I finally let loose and my entire body relaxes. I lie with the aftershocks, shaking, shocked at how intense it was.

He stands up, looking down at me for a few moments. “I want to savor this image,” he moans. “Your legs glistening with your release. Your pussy, wet and swollen. Your needy clit. Fucking hell. And your face, like you’re amazed you get to feel this way. I know because I feel the same. So. Damn. Lucky…”

“I’m the lucky one,” I murmur, my legs trembling, fixating on the intense lust on his face.

“No.” He steps forward, climbing onto the bed. “It’s me, Mara. I was the luckiest man alive the day you walked into my life.”

CHAPTER 30

ETTORE

Iclimb atop her, my shaft pulsing with pure lust when she wriggles out of her shirt and bra. I fall on her tits as my manhood glides up her inner leg. We’re quiet, but it’s a hungry, husky sort of quiet, every breath heightened, every moment made more intense.

She arches her back toward me when I greedily suck her nipple. I reach down at the same time, wrapping my hand around my shaft and guiding my tip to her entrance, slick and ready after she drenched me with her juices.

I lean back, letting me look at her, heavy tits ready to bounce for me, her nipples pebbled with lust. She raises her eyebrows with a small, dangerous kind of smile on her face. The sassy kind of challenge that drew me to her in the first place.

Lining up, I thrust forward, pushing my aching length inside of her. Her body seizes up for a moment. She grips onto my arms, squeezing so hard her fingernails bend. I pause, and she grins, nodding at me to keep going. I smile like the lucky bastard I am and drive all the way inside of her.

She smooths her hands up the back of my neck and pulls me toward her. I lie atop her, careful not to put my full weight on her body hot against mine. I savor the feeling of her breasts pressing against me, the sheer warmth of our connection.

She drags her fingernails down my back, shifting her hips in time with me. Our bodies haven’t done this many times – and this is the first time in a bed – but it’s like a dance we automatically know the steps to. Like we were made for this. For each other.

I pick up the pace, lost in the connection. Her body is smoking, and her moans against my ear drive me close to the edge, breathy and hungry for more. But the main thing is this feeling of fusing, like we’re growing closer with each thrust, like we’re becoming something unbreakable.

“I feel it too,” she moans in my ear. I wonder if I’ve spoken aloud. It’s like she can sense me wondering. She laughs quietly in delight. “Everything you’re—yeah, yeah, oh God… I feel it, Ettore.”

I guide my lips to hers, expecting she might pull away because I’ve still got her taste on my lips. But our passion goes beyond that. She moans and grabs my face, kissing me hard as our bodies rock together. I thrust faster, the bed whining now, protesting with each thunderous thrust.

“Shh,” she whimpers.

I slow my pace, the bed going quiet again.