Page 103 of Mafia King
Their tail lights clear the driveway, leaving me alone with my husband.
“Did you make the offer?” I ask.
“I did.” He nods and goes inside.
“And?”
“I told you he wouldn’t accept.”
I sigh and follow him. No words need to be spoken. We have to move to the second part of the plan.
“Upstairs,” Santino says when we’re inside the house and the door is locked.
I hesitate. Is he angry that we have to go to plan B? Or just surprised?
“Now,” he barks.
He’s so big when he yells, and all my defiance melts away, and I run upstairs. He catches me in the hall before I have to decide which room to run to, picks me up and carries me to his room, throwing me on the bed.
“Undress,” he orders.
My breath catches in my throat. I study his face. There’s something else there, something besides the desire to peel me open and devour the soft, sweet flesh inside. It curls darkly under his skin like blood set free of veins.
“Undress,” Santino commands again, but in Italian as if that has more force. “Spogliati.”
It does.
My fingers fumble with my straps. Maybe there’s a different name for the power I cannot define.
I’m naked in front of him when I see it clearly.
It’s fear. He’s afraid of the partnership he’s offered me, and he’s afraid of what I’ll do with it. Or he’s afraid I’ll die. He’s afraid he can’t protect me.
I can’t parse any of it, but it all leads to one conclusion. Santino is human. He thinks he’s showing me his power, but he’s lonely and desperate and afraid, just like me. I, Violetta DiLustro, am not just a wife to service him, but a companion and a mate who needs and who is needed.
“Santino—” I start.
“Basta.” His pants and underwear drop to the floor. He steps out of them neatly, revealing his powerful cock—more magnificent than ever. He grabs my hand and puts it on the glorious beast, and it hardens even more. “Succhiami il cazzo.”
Suck my dick. I flush warm and drop to my knees, opening my mouth obediently. All insolence is gone. I just want him to use me. I want him to show me I fucking matter. Never do I feel that more than when his cock is in me and his hands are on my shoulders, as his powerful frame comes with ragged breaths.
I take a deep breath to steady myself, so I don’t come before he can touch me. Mixed with the fear from only twenty minutes earlier, I want nothing more than to have my entire world obliterated in dark pleasure.
“Tomorrow morning,” he says from above. “Tell me what you do first.”
He pulls out his cock. I breathe. “Call Anette. Tell her I want to go with them to pick up Gia.”
Santino takes my cheeks and squeezes, pressing my mouth open. He isn’t gentle. He’s forceful. He’s scared. He’s mine. His length threatens to choke me in one thrust, sending hot electricity through my veins.
“You beg them,” he says. “You cry. You tell them I want you to live over the river and you don’t want to leave.” He twists my hair in his hands and pulls just enough, and I respond with gasp and a groan. “You don’t want to be alone in another house with only one kitchen, so far away.”
I rule this man’s cock. I build into a quick rhythm, sucking and licking his length with each stroke from my lips, then he pushes me away.
“I just can’t be alone right now,” I say, spit dripping down my chin. “I don’t assume Anette told him about seeing me at the drugstore. With the test… because he told you that, not me. But if he mentions it, I say I’m pregnant and I want to tell Gia right away.”
“I don’t believe you.” Santino drops onto a high-backed leather chair, legs apart, elbows resting on the tufted arms. The fear is gone; the power is not. “Come here.”
I stand between his legs and he turns me. In the mirror, my naked body blocks him. He puts his hands on my waist and guides me down, impaling me on him. We are slick and smooth against each other, root to root without friction or resistance.
