Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 23250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
The only plead I make is for more.
More him.
More this.
More us.
“Tell me you’re mine, Mrs. DeLuca…” His command is echoed instantly by his cock snatching the orgasm I had been holding at bay out of the wings. “Tell me you’ll always fucking be mine.”
“Yours, Nero.” My body arches into the fierce pumping, feeding him more of my pussy, more of my muted screams, more of my soul that he has to know by now belongs to him. “Only yours.”
Airy groans and moans fill every inch of Nero’s massive kitchen.
I pull at his hair.
Yank.
Claw at his back and biceps, not giving a shit about the way my elbow knocks into the furniture or the fact that I hear footsteps coming and going.
Our frames wildly collide as I do everything that I can to take every last inch of him. Sweat cakes us both while orgasms flow from me like it’s the only thing my body remembers how to do. The endless taps of my clit keep my mind reeling in circles and my soaking wet walls anxiously pulsing around his cock. His inevitable breaking point is abrupt but delicious. One hard, head-knocking grunt is followed by blazing bursts of cum that spark my own salacious inferno. I scream in ecstasy, and his teeth sink into my bottom lip, digging deeper and deeper in tandem with the kicking of his cock.
Regardless of the new aches – and definitely new bruises – I couldn’t be happier.
And more importantly, I know that there is nowhere else I would rather be than right here.
In his arms.
Forever.
He may have started out as my fake husband, but there’s no denying that our love is the realest I’ve ever had.
Chapter Seven
Nero
I meet Mickie’s eyes in the mirror while Francesco, my tailor, works with the hem of my navy suit pants in the dressing room of my beach estate. “Is everything set for dinner at the ball tonight?”
“Yes, boss.”
“Fish, not steak?”
“Fish tonight. Steak reservations for Thursday.”
“Excellent.”
Cash drops – by boat being fish, by land being steak – and shipments have been increasingly difficult to get done due to Drew, Adam, Edwin and whatever selective group of feds they’re working for, but leniency regarding time has been extended my direction.
For a pricey fee, of course.
Covering those fees comes straight out of my pocket, and if I didn’t have a beautiful woman in my bed every night to help distract me from the resources it’s draining to keep everything looking as though it is really running smoothly, I would be in a much more violent mood.
Elle keeps me relatively sane.
And my balls respectfully empty.
She is the best thing to happen to me.
Just like grandmother swore the right woman would be.
The vibrating of my phone in my pants pocket has me promptly reaching for it, causing Francesco to scold me in Italian to stay still.
After presenting my apologies in the same native tongue, I happily swipe to answer the call from the very female I was just thinking about. “Afternoon, Mrs. DeLuca. You better be calling to tell me you’re on your way to me. You know how unacceptable I find tardiness.”
She doesn’t instantly respond, and when she finally does, it sounds like it’s at a distance. “How the hell did you get in here, Adam?”
Any ability to breathe is suddenly severed.
“How the hell did you even know where to find me?!”
Good question.
“Someone forgot to lock the back door.”
For fucks sake, why isn’t someone watching the back door?!
“And I still follow Gina on soc’ shit, which made finding you as easy as ever. She’s always posting about the projects you’re working on, and her nipples are usually rock hard in the pics, and I like that. Fucking her once wasn’t enough, ya know?”
“You fucked my best friend?!”
“I’ll probably gift her a goodbye fuck before you, dad, Drew, and me disappear with the marshals.”
Marshals?
Fuck.
WITSEC.
Those bastards are trying to sell me out and vanish before me or my family can shut them up.
Elle’s voice croaks in confusion. “What?!”
“You’re our fucking ticket out of this nightmare, little sister. You’re gonna tell the feds everything they wanna know about your fake husband so they can put his ass in prison while we retire to Fiji or Fort Lauderdale or something.”
Sometimes it’s hard to know which of her stepsiblings is the dumber one.
One thing is for sure.
They’re both about to be equally as fucking dead along with their father.
My heart pounds harshly against my ribcage in desperation to escape yet is momentarily soothed by Elle’s proclamation, “I won’t turn on Nero. Not now. Not ever.”
Loyalty.
Something so fucking valuable in this world.
“I love him.”
And there’s the only thing worth more.
I swiftly snap my fingers for Mickie’s attention and angrily mouth, “Call Gus now!”
He prepares to dial in front of me while I motion my hand away in fear he may be heard.