Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 26768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
I want all his pleasures. Just as much as he wanted mine.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Prologue
EMELIA
Marriages are a complicated entity, especially when married into the biggest crime organization in the world. The Mafia. As the Regina of the Seattle Mafia, I Emelia Rene Valiente am married to a man so ruthless outside the walls of our home and even more in our bedroom.
When I met Nico Dante Valiente, I hated him. In fact, I was supposed to end him. Take him down and burn his empire. Once I was inside, however, the narrative changed. I was on my knees at his feet. Hating the man while being summoned by desire at his strong hands. My plus size body felt weightless in his overpowering muscular arms. The scars on his skin from a life of crime, only enticed me to salivate over what he could survive in order to unleash a chaotic lust on me every night when he crawled into our bed.
The world out there was terrifying, but Nico wouldn’t dare be caught dead. Because death means he loses me. Loses my love, but also my lust. He would be bruised and knocking on death’s door and still he would be between my thighs, reminding me that I am his and he is surviving close calls because I own his soul. His entire being.
Outside these walls and life before me, however, often creeps up in my mind. Nico owns a large sex club. Filled with rooms of different pleasures and never once has he taken me in there. What was behind those doors? Nico knew, because Nico tried all the women who came through or so he told me when we got married. Since our marriage, it has been just me. My husband had so many women before me, and I only had one man. My experience and sexual prowess had limitations in comparison to his. We make love and it isn’t for the weak and there is no doubt that it is more than fulfilling, but is it thrilling? Thrilling enough for him as it is for me. Nico could lay me down on my back and enter the same position nightly and I will always feel pleasure.
But would he?
Will I always be content? Maybe I wanted to try more, not because I’m bored or growing tired. No, it’s more for me to excite myself. To dig into parts of me and ignite fires that may be embers waiting to be fanned into a full inferno. Sexual pleasures are never just about what may curtail your curiosities, instead, exploration into worlds unknown. Discovering what you need to reach your full euphoric conscience. Tapping into your wildest imagination and entering your truest state.
Alas, I will take my ten years of marriage and what I have learned under his skillful touch and walk into a den of new worlds I can only imagine. What pleasures are waiting behind each door?
Chapter One
EMELIA
“Nico? The children’s teacher is here, would you like to take the morning off with me?” I announce, slowly opening my husband’s office door at the end of our hallway on the second floor of our penthouse. The children laugh downstairs, but it slowly fades out when I step into the soundproof space.
He sits there in his office chair, delectable while doing the simplest thing. In his suit. Nico rarely dresses casually for a day of work. In fact, casual doesn’t suit him as finely as Italian leather, silk, velvet, and Vicuna. He sits there sans suit jacket, with his one ankle propped on the opposite knee, his leather harness still adorns him as does his pistol in the holder. His silk black tie lays perfectly against his tight white button-up shirt, complimenting his defined pecs and abs. His long, veined hands are occupied. One hand holds a packet of papers, and the other one is up against his head. His thick, calloused from his pistol middle and pointer finger, settle against his full lips, quizzically. He studies the papers with great intent. His brows are drawn in and he wears a scowl. Nico isn’t angry, that’s his thinking face. His mind is running a mile a minute as he tries to either make sense of what he is reading or checking it for any type of flaws.
“Nico? My love?” I say again, my first time not enough to pull him from the immersive thoughts.
He clears his throat and drops the packet on his desk. “Mi dispiace, amore mia. My mind is wrapped in this new business plan.” He stands. I nod, understanding. Nico rounds his desk, his six-foot, bulky frame a contrast to my shorter one. I am a fat woman. Never been ashamed of it, even to this day, but no man has ever made me feel like a small piece of prey to a large dangerous animal, like my husband has. Nico was built for me. As I was for him. My palms twitch to touch the magnetic man. Every second of the past ten years has felt like this. Waiting on stolen breath for him to draw nearer to me so I can engulf him. Every day still feels brand new.