Page 25 of The Mafioso’s Bride

“You haven’t met all of me yet.”

“I want to.”

“Not tonight.”

Her hand leaves me. “Why?”

“Tonight is about what you asked for. I’m not putting my cock inside you during the same conversation where you had to correct me about your right to choose.”

“I am choosing.”

“I believe you. Our first time deserves more than five minutes after you walk through the door.” I unfasten her bra. “Tonight, you learn what makes you come. I learn how to give it to you.”

Her breasts spill into my palms. I tell her before my thumbs pass over her nipples, then rub them with firm circles. She arches closer.

“Harder.”

I pinch both nipples. Her mouth opens, and a sharp cry escapes.

“Good or bad?”

“Good. Again.”

I do it again, harder. She presses against me, asking for pressure with her whole body.

“I’m going to put my mouth on your breast.”

“Yes.”

My tongue circles her nipple before I suck it between my lips.

“Your tongue is softer than your fingers,” she says.

I release her. “Do you dislike it?”

“No. Suck harder.”

My wife may kill me before I ever fuck her. I suck until her nails dig into my shoulders. Each instruction makes my restraint thinner. I want to throw her on the mattress, spread her thighs, and bury myself inside her. Instead, I listen.

When I reach for the waistband of her skirt, I pause. “I’m going to undress you from the waist down.”

“Yes.”

I slide her skirt and panties down her legs, then guide her onto the bed. She lies against the pillows, naked except for her socks.

“Do the socks stay?”

“My feet are cold.”

“Then the socks stay.”

I remove my jacket and kneel between her knees. Her thighs press together.

“I’m going to open your legs.” I put a palm on each knee. “Firmly.”

“Yes.”

She yields to the pressure. Pink, wet flesh waits between her thighs. My mouth waters.