Page 27 of Mafia Priest

“Then just have her come as Elise’s friend,” she begs. “You could at least get to know her.”

Bianca’s phone rings. Even here, she can’t escape the demands of la famiglia, not totally. Although right now, I welcome the interruption.

“It’s okay. Take it.” I nod toward her phone.

Staring out at the turquoise waters of the Tyrrhenian Sea, I tune out the call. Disappointing Bianca kills me. And I understand her perspective—family is important to me, too. But Rena is safer not knowing who she is. At least as long as my old man is alive.

“Daddy,” Bianca murmurs in a sultry tone that immediately gets my attention—and my cock’s.

I turn toward her. Her expression suggests she’s forgotten all about convents and sisters—for the moment at least. My wife is tenacious. I fully expect to have this argument again.

“Good news?” I ask, taking the reprieve.

“We found the snitch.” Her thighs part—revealing that she’s not wearing panties beneath her dress. “We found him and—oooh, Daddy!”

Bianca moans, fingers threading through my hair as I bury my face between her legs. And with the soft sand beneath us and the warm sun overhead, I lose myself in the scent and taste of her as I worship the cunt of the woman I love.

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