Page 56 of Mafia Daddy

He’d approached without a sound. Even I hadn’t heard him.

I turn slowly in his arms. He’s wearing one of my oversized t-shirts, the hem brushing his thighs, hair still messy from sleep. His eyes are soft but alert, searching my face.

“You surprised me,” I say quietly, resting my hands on his hips. “Not many people can do that.”

Milo smiles, a little shy, a little proud. “There’s a lot about me that you don’t know yet.” He presses closer, resting his cheek against my bare chest. “Why are you up? Bad dreams?”

I stroke his back slowly. “No dreams. Just life. There’s a lot going on right now.”

“Paolo?” he asks softly, reading me too easily.

I nod. “Among other things. The kiss in the park… I’m certain someone was watching us. And after today’s conversation with your uncle, I believe it was one of his men.”

Milo pulls back slightly to look up at me. “You think he planned all of this? Sending me to you?”

“Possibly,” I admit. “It would be a clever play to make me care, then use you as a bargaining chip or blackmail. But I won’t let that happen.”

Milo bites his lip, conflicted. “I don’t want to be used against you. Or against him. He’s still my uncle, Maxim. Family.”

“I know.” I cup his face gently. “And that makes this difficult for you. But if war comes, I will protect what is mine. And you are mine now, Milo. That doesn’t change, no matter what happens between our families.”

Milo’s eyes soften. He rises onto his toes and kisses me… slow, deep, trusting. When we break apart, he rests his forehead against my chest.

“I trust you,” he whispers. “Even when it’s scary.”

Then, I kiss him.

It’s not gentle. The moment our lips meet, all the tension, the fury at Paolo, the protective fire burning in my chest… it all pours into the kiss.

Milo gasps against my mouth, but he melts instantly, his small hands sliding up my bare chest to clutch my shoulders. I back the boy against the wall beside the sideboard, one hand tangling in his hair, the other gripping his hip hard enough to leave marks.

He whimpers into the kiss, pressing closer, and that sound undoes the last of my restraint.

I lift him effortlessly, his legs wrapping around my waist as I carry him the few steps to the thick living room rug. I lay Milo down on his back, the soft fibers cushioning him as I settle between his thighs. The oversized t-shirt he’s wearing rides up, baring him completely to me.

No bedtime briefs. Good boy.

“Look at you,” I growl, running my hands up his thighs towards his stiff cock. “Already all hard for me. Were you dreaming about Daddy while you slept?”

Milo nods breathlessly, cheeks flushed. “Yes… please, Daddy…”

I push the shirt higher, exposing his chest, and lean down to take one nipple into my mouth, sucking hard.

Milo arches with a cry, fingers threading through my hair. I bite down gently, then soothe it with my tongue before moving to the other. My hand slides between his legs, finding his rock-hard cock all swollen and needy to my touch. I suck on my fingers and then push two inside Milo’s ass slowly but surely and watch in delight as he gasps in pleasure.

“So greedy,” I murmur against his skin. “This tight little ass is already trying to pull me deeper. You want to be fucked, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Milo moans, hips rocking against my hand. “Please fuck me, Daddy. I need you.”

I pull my fingers free and shove my pajama bottoms down just enough to free my cock. I’m rock hard, aching for him. I reach for some lube from the nearby cupboard and quickly spread it thick and plentiful from the bottom of my shaft all the way to my bulbous dick head.

“Are you sure, boy?” I ask, taking Milo’s legs and hooking them back and onto my shoulders.. “There’s no going back once we begin.”

“I’m sure, Daddy,” Milo moans, his eyes wide with desire.

I don’t need to hear any more. line myself up and thrust in deep in one smooth stroke.

Milo cries out, back bowing off the rug. I don’t give him time to adjust—I start fucking him hard, deep, possessive strokes that make his pecs bounce with every impact.