Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“Holy fuck, Emelia.” That is the hottest fucking sight—her taking my cum and pushing into her cunt while she plays with herself.
“Jerk yourself off. Come again. Get off with me. Please,” she begs, tear stains now drying on her face as her hand works inside her pants. I grip my cock, and its already hard from the sight of her.
“You like this cock, baby? Like that it gets so fucking hard for you?”
“Mmmhmm,” she moans out.
“God, yes.”
“My fingers are too small. I need your big cock, il mio re.”
I swear when she calls me her king in Italian, I jerk harder without thought. I pick up speed to match her. She is working that pussy so fucking fast that I know she nor I will last. I want to look at her bottom half, but the real pleasure is in her eyes, and I can’t stop looking into them.
“Vieni per me, moglie." I don’t usually speak Italian to her, but this time when I do, she cries out. Her chest starts to rise and fall in choppy breaths, and then her thighs begin to shake, and before I know it, she’s gasping loudly.
“I’m coming. Fuck. Yes!” She fills the car with sensual cries of pleasure, and I come again, my cum pouring out like it didn't just minutes ago.
This fucking minx. She can make me do things I never thought were possible. I clean myself up the best I can, putting myself back in my pants after a few moments, then I lean over and reach my hand into her yoga pants. I go straight for her center and circle her hole, collecting her juice. She watches me intently as I pull my hand out and bring her sweet taste mixed with mine to my lips.
“Mine,” I say when I lick her from my finger. I dip my hand back in and repeat the motion, but this time, I don’t bring it to my mouth. Instead, I lift it to her lips and smear it all over them.
“Mine,” I reiterate, and she responds instantly.
“Yours.”
Damn fucking right.
The day doesn't end after that. No, we spend another hour fucking and clawing at one another like depraved animals. The sun hasn’t even set yet, but we have calmed down enough to offer each other some reprieve.
We are lying in bed, lazily touching and sharing open-mouthed kisses, when my phone rings. We both groan our protests, but I lean over and see it's my underboss so decide to answer. We could use a minute of separation.
“Giulio.”
“Sir, sorry to bother you, but I have something to report.”
“All right. Out with it,” I snap.
“We got word that not even twenty-four hours after you and Mrs. Valiente left your honeymoon that the boat was hit.”
I shoot up in bed. “What?”
“Yes, the boat exploded. They found a bomb in a hidden chamber at the bottom.” My heart speeds up to an alarming rate, and I realize that if we hadn't left when we did, Emelia and I could have died.
Emelia.
Emelia could have been dead. Someone knew we were there and wanted to hurt us and didn’t care that my wife was on the boat. Men are out for me all the time, at every corner, but my wife? She is sacred. Off limits. She is the part of me that will flip everyone on their heads and ruin their worlds if I find out who would dare do that her. Emelia is not to be harmed. Ever. There is no return if you mess with mine.
“There’s more, sir.”
“What else?” What could possibly top that? Nothing, but I need him to tell me everything so I can instruct him on what to do next. Emelia sits up, pulling the sheet up to her chest and touching me softly on the shoulder.
“The Notellis. Giuseppe hasn’t moved. He isn’t sending men out or anything. They are all lying low, so we can’t for sure tie them to anything, but I did get word that he has his own shipment coming in.”
“Good. I want one of our moles—unmarked, never been sent to a job outside Seattle—on the ground. He can keep a safe distance, but I want him to take pictures of all the men who are there getting the shipments. We will investigate all of them and see if there’s anyone new that could be doing the dirty work.”
“Yes, sir.” He pauses. “Are you going to tell Emelia?” he asks, and I peer at her over my shoulder and see her face is twisted with worry.
“No. Keep me informed as that progresses.” Before he can get a word out, I end the call.
“What’s going on, Nico?” She sounds terrified, and that is exactly why I have to lie to her.
“Giulio’s just keeping me up to date on things.” There is a way she looks at me that I can tell she knows something is off, but she doesn’t push. I told her already that I will not talk about business with her.