Page 80 of Mafia King
“Wait.” I push him away only far enough to let my lips make words. “You will?”
“I will.”
“You’ll pay Marco’s debt?”
“No.”
“What then?”
“I’ll give Damiano what he really wants.”
“Is it—”
He cuts me off with a kiss before answering. “It’s not Gia. Not even a wedding.”
The aggressive shape of his hardness pushes against my thigh, and I lift my leg to his hip to move the shape to center. He takes that leg under the knee, then the other, and I lock my ankles around him, digging my fingers in his hair as he kisses me, drawing him closer. I want to eat him alive. Crawl inside him and rest inside his skin. Consume the soul he thinks he’s sold to hell, because it is desirable—a prize worthy of eternity—and mine is a devil’s caress.
Everything has a price.
“What about the next woman who’s sold?” I ask, pulling away only slightly. He’s trying to kiss me, but I’m not having it. “Will you bless it?”
“Ask me later.”
“Now,” I demand, then soften it so he doesn’t get defensive. “Please.”
“I told you I don’t like this game.”
“I have one last card to play.” I move his hand to my backside and give him the coy smile of an innocent. “Are you all in?”
“I have beenpunto tuttofrom the beginning.” He grinds into my soft center. “I will end it, and I may be killed for it.”
“You won’t be.”
With my legs wrapped around him and his hands under my bottom, he carries me up the steps to his room, where he lays me on the bed and removes my clothes piece by piece, touch by touch, kiss by kiss, until we’re a combined beast of writhing limbs and grappling hands. His lips make a line from my throat to my breasts and belly before he buries his face between my legs, licking me with the full width of his fluttering tongue and sucking gently on my nub until I’m so lit up, I could set the city on fire.
“More,” I breathe, clutching his hair.
He flicks and strokes my opening, then moves his mouth there, softening the edge, then moves lower and hitches my hips off the mattress to reach even lower and—
“Oh.”
His tongue ventures into unexpected places, startling me. I push him away, but Santino captures my hands in his own and gently runs his tongue along my asshole. It steals the air in my lungs, and two strokes of his tongue later, I’m putty in his hands. Every flick ignites something deep within me, an urge and an itch I didn’t know existed. His grunts deepen and I feel his body thrust against the bed. The act of licking my ass is turning him on, and suddenly things click together.
“Santi,” I whisper.
“Say yes or no now.” He gets up. “This won’t wait.” He presses his thumb against the tight wetness of my asshole.
“No,” I say, and he removes his thumb, looking at me over the curves of my breasts. “No, I don’t want an annulment.”
He blinks as if he needs a moment to take in the timing and substance of the answer.
“I know your heart,” I add. “I know you want to free Gia, and you’ll do everything you can. I know how hard that is for you, but it makes me want to stay with you, whether you succeed or not.”
He gets up on his knees and wipes his mouth with his wrist, towering between my spread legs. The heavy hardness jutting from his pelvis is both a threat and a promise. His command and dominance has muscled past whatever vulnerability he showed downstairs.
“You ask a lot of me,Forzetta.” Lifting my legs, he takes my ass cheeks in his rough hands and spreads them. “Too much for a wife who hasn’t given me everything I want.”
A hot chill runs down my spine and settles where his attention pierces me.
