Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
If I had more time, I would have shopped and prepped some healthy food for Vega. But she was a grown woman. She would make do on her own. Sure, it would all be takeaway and sugar, but she’d survive.
“So, what are you making?” he asked. “Will there be enough for me, or am I on my own?”
“Plenty,” I assured him. “Balsamic, rosemary, and cranberry roasted chicken with a side of parmesan orzo, and green beans. What?” I asked at his wide eyes.
“You might not want to let the women of my family know how well you cook, or they’ll be making you cook for every function.”
“How do you know it will be any good?” I reasoned.
“Because you don’t do anything by half,” he said, shrugging. “Alright,” he said, moving away. “How can I help? After I wash my hands,” he said when my gaze had immediately dipped to them.
Oh, this man.
It was early, yes, but something inside of me said that this was going somewhere.
Perhaps I should have been more freaked out about the whole… mafia thing than I was.
I mean… it was crazy, right?
Who got involved with someone in organized crime? Someone who made their money illegally. Someone who would be under constant scrutiny from the police.
If I decided to stay involved with Cesare, that would be a part of my life.
The police.
The illegality.
The concerns for his safety.
Maybe even my own.
The thing was, there didn’t really feel like there was much of a choice to make.
I wanted him.
That meant accepting all the things that came with him.
I watched as he rolled up his sleeves to wash his hands.
I mean, after all, he was accepting all the things that came with me, wasn’t he?
Without hesitation.
Without a second thought.
I would have to do the same.
Somehow, it seemed like a small thing. If I got to have him in exchange.
“Let me do the chopping,” Cesare said, nudging me with his hip. “You’re down a hand,” he reminded me.
“Baby,” he murmured a few minutes later, making my head jerk up from watching his hands as he chopped.
“Yeah?”
“You keep looking at me like that and dinner is gonna burn because I’m gonna need to drag you to your room and fuck you,” he told me, smirking at me as I glanced toward the stove. “What?” he asked.
“I’m debating how much I want the chicken,” I admitted, getting a throaty chuckle out of him.
To that, Cesare turned, walking over toward the oven, opening it, and checking it, then the time, before walking back to the sink to wash his hands.
“What are you doing?” I gasped when he grabbed me suddenly, turning me, and yanking me back against his chest, his lips finding their way to my neck.
“Got fifteen, maybe twenty,” he said, his hands already drifting up my belly, then cupping my breasts through the material of my dress.
“But the orzo… and the green beans…” I objected, thinking of the timing, how I always had things done at exactly the same time.
“Fuck ‘em,” he told me as one of his hands moved back down, sliding up under my skirt, then panties, and working my clit.
My head fell back on his shoulder as my eyes drifted closed, so I could slip fully into the sensations.
He was right.
Fuck the orzo and green beans.
Cesare’s fingers slipped inside of me, stroking gently, then faster as my breathing got quicker, as my hips rocked against his movements.
“Cesare, please,” I pleaded.
“Please, what?” he asked, teeth nipping the shell of my ear.
“I need you inside of me,” I told him, shameless in my desperation to feel him filling me once again.
The little growl he let out vibrated through him and into me, and the next thing I knew I was pushed forward, my hands on the countertop with my skirt up around my hips, my panties around my ankles, and Cesare standing behind me, slipping on protection, then stroking his cock against my cleft.
“Cesare,” I whimpered, rocking back into him.
Another of those little growls escaped him before he was suddenly slamming inside of me.
His hand slapped over my mouth as a moan escaped me, muffling the sound against his palm.
There were no teasing touches, no slow exploration.
Cesare fucked me hard and fast, his hand staying over my mouth, but it wasn’t long before even that was barely able to quiet my cries as he pushed me further and further toward that edge.
His free hand moved between us, working my clit as he continued to fuck me.
“Come for me,” Cesare growled. “I need to feel you squeezing my cock,” he added.
Then just like that, I was coming, the sounds sharp against his palm as the waves crashed through me over and over.
Cesare slammed deep, coming with me, leaving us both panting and half-collapsed over the kitchen counter afterward.
The oven alarm chimed, making Cesare let out a sexy little chuckle.