Page 111 of Mafia Bride
Then it’s gone, and I feel a drop of blood trickling down. That’s it. I’ve given him what I’ll never have again, and he knows it.
“You’re all right?” he asks.
His voice is melted butter across my body. I can only nod. It was all he was waiting for, because as soon as I nod, he pushes himself all the way in, deeper than anything has ever been inside of me. I can’t stop the moans and groans as he repeats the motion for three agonizingly long strokes.
He slides his thumb across my clit and the world feels warm and bubbly again.
“Does that feel good?”
“Oh yes,” I moan.
“You can come again when I allow it.”
“Oh, God, Santino.” I almost come from his words alone. Filthy mouth. Filthy lover.
He thrusts faster and harder all while rubbing my clit. I pull my legs as far back as they allow so he can go in deeper. Each thrust ignites my very core and it doesn’t take more than a few strokes of my clit to bring everything dangerously close to exploding.
“Please Santino.” I gasp. “Please. I have to come.”
“Oh, my blood violet.” He groans and murmurs in my hair. As if possessed, his body slams into mine until he pants in my ear. “Come for me,Forzetta. Come for me.”
Again, I can do nothing but obey. My body crests and falls against his. I open my eyes to see this beautiful man come, and while it’s only the tail end of his orgasm, I’m moved by how—when he is most vulnerable, he’s still regal.
He even comes like a king.
30
SANTINO
Evening disappears into the horizon and a beautiful woman slumbers beside me.
Not just a woman.
Thebeautiful woman. The one I wanted but never thought I’d have. The one a fingertip’s distance from my reach, until she wasn’t. She’s on her side with her leg kicked over, and I can see the streak of blood between her legs. The sheet’s stained with it. She bled like a woman I had to rip apart to own, and she’ll bleed again, because I am her first and last in all things.
I kiss her shoulder and roll off the bed.
My mother’s cameo’s on the dresser. Three Graces. Three Fates. Three Furies. Pick your poison. Violetta was always meant to have this piece. Another woman would ignore the Fates and Furies, settling on Grace alone, and in a time when I was resigned to my own fate, another woman did.
Leaving the cameo where I found it, I go out to the patio to watch the outline of Vesuvius become visible as the sky shifts from black to blue.
She was remarkable. She was a perfect mix of timid and aggressive. Curious and naïve. I will bed her every single day, every single hour, if I can.
My Violetta takes up the universe between submission and combat. Her tongue is a viper, ready to poison on a moment’s notice, but the rest of her body is a kitten who only wants to purr.
With both hands, she surrendered her body and offered me her pleasure. She eagerly obeyed my every command as if she could not perform it soon enough. I don’t have to threaten or even encourage her to obey. She may bite back, but her teeth are new and her jaw knows better than to break the skin of my patience, and I realize that little bit of resistance makes the compliance that much sweeter.
“Come stai?” I ask when she comes out into the dull morning sun. I take her hand and kiss it, then pull her down into my lap.
“Fine.” She rests her head on my shoulder.
“No, you saybene.”
“I’m too tired to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Conjugate verbs in my head.” She brings her knees up so her whole body is tucked into my arms. “Can’t we speak English?”
