Page 55 of Mafia Queen
“Of course.” I look from the droplets on his cheeks as they drip to his beard and down at the taut lines of his body and reach for the rigid angle of his erection. “Whatever you are or were, it’s you I want.”
“You’re not ready for what you have in your hand.”
There are parts of me that need rest, but he’s not seeing the full picture. My body has a place for him.
“You think I ruin so easy.” I turn my back to him and put one hand against the wall and the other on my ass. “I’m tougher than you think.”
In silence, he draws his touch down my back and to my cheeks, spreading them open. I look over my shoulder. His expression is hidden. All I can see is the water dripping from a triangle of hanging hair.
“Go ahead,” I say. “Destroy me. I want you to.”
He reaches for the shelf of supplies and knocks over the shampoo, the conditioner, body wash, and bar of soap until he finds the cream, then he sits on the ledge.
“You’re going to destroy yourself.” He drops a line of lotion on his cock, then fists the shaft. “Come here.”
I stand between his knees, and he turns my back to him. I feel his slick fingers probing. Two enter my ass, and I groan with pleasure as he stretches and spreads the muscle.
“Touch yourself,” he commands, pushing my legs open so my swollen clit hangs ready.
I rub between my legs. He removes his fingers and pulls me down on him, guiding his cock to my ass, then he lets go, leaving me in control.
Spreading my legs to either side of his, I lower myself onto him, gently opening, paying attention to when the pain comes and when it goes away, until he’s buried inside me. I wait for a command or instruction, but I get nothing but a groan from behind. I rise, then fall, fingering my clit as I fuck him with my ass, lingering when I push him deep, forcing down with my weight when his head is at the edge, finding a rhythm that matches his grunts.
He doesn’t need to tell me he’s close. I feel it in the way his fingers curl on my back.
“Come with me, Santi. Can you? Now?”
In answer, he grabs my hair and pulls my head back, as if he can’t culminate without controlling some part of me, and that’s enough to send a seismic orgasm ripping through my body. My cries echo off the walls, and when they die down, there’s just the sound of the water beating against the tiles.
When I lean back, he wraps his arms around me and whispers in my ear, “I love you, my violet. I am so afraid to play this game and lose you.”
“You can’t lose me as long as you love me.”
“Lo voglio.Per l’eternità. Even death won’t keep me from you.”
“Don’t prove that twice.”
“No.” He lays his hands on my cheeks. “Marco told us they’re at Vasto Quarry. When we attack it, you’ll be afraid. You’ll worry about the danger. You’ll think I’ve lost and I’m leaving you. But I won’t be. I’ll be loving you.”
* * *
Santinoand I walk down the grand stairway arm in arm. Men run past the front windows. The door swings open as we step onto the marble floor of the front foyer. Carmine bursts in first, then Vito, a bloody hand over his bicep.
“Jesus.” I run forward to look at Vito’s arm.
“We rooted out the roaches,” he says to Santino.
“It looks like you didsomething,” I complain, directing Vito to the nearest chair.
“Sent them to a hotel,” Carmine chimes in.
“It’s a motel,stunad,” Vito snaps back, then resists when I try to look at his wound. “Don’t worry about that. Just a scrape.”
“Can someone interpret for me?” I pull Vito’s hand away. A globule of blood bubbles between the shreds of his jacket. I let him cover it again.
“There were Tabonas at your zio and zia’s,” Santino says to me, then turns to Carmine. “Gone, yes?
“Dead as fuck.”
