What is here to eat? I think as I rummage through the Mafia House’s refrigerator for food.
I scrunch my nose up at the tofu in a plastic container before moving on to the meats section. Again that is a no, I am in no mood to cook anything right now but I’m so hungry.
Sighing, I grab a yogurt from the door and frown. This cannot be the only thing they have. More than a hundred men and no good food that doesn’t need preparation!
“I didn’t expect to see you out so soon. I’d assume Capo would have you chained to his bed. I know I would.”
Yelping, I drop the yogurt container before whipping my head around to lock eyes with the intruder.
The white light from the refrigerator dances across his face, glinting on his nose ring. I place my hand against my chest, calming my breathing before glaring at the mafia man before me.
“You scared the shit out of me Jasper,” I hiss giving him my best stale face.
“Sorry Capa but to be fair you shouldn’t be sneaking around at night,” he shoots back as he leans onto the island between us with a teasing smile.
“I could say the same thing,” I say straightening up and crossing my arms, my hip keeping the refrigerator door open.
To be fair he is right, it is around eleven o’clock in the night and I shouldn’t be walking around by myself but I’m starving and Dylan was dead to the world in dreamland. I wasn’t going to sit there and starve so wandering around was the next best thing.
“I was in my room. You passed it a few doors back when you were blindly wandering the halls,” he explains yawning and stretching like a kitten against the island.
Jasper is in a black tank and sweats, which almost helps him to blend in with the darkness of the room. I’m Dylan’s grey T-shirt, his navy blue boxers and white socks.
“I was looking for food…” I reply sheepishly. “I didn’t wake you did I?”
I remember opening a few doors to check if it’s the kitchen but majority of them were empty, maybe I wandered into his and disturbed his rest.
“Nah, I was leaving the bathroom when I saw the light from your phone under the door,” Jasper smiles and I nod, my stomach choosing that moment to grumble.
Sighing, I remember the yogurt on the floor and bend to take it up. Lights flood the room and I look up to notice Jasper is the culprit. Closing the refrigerator, I place the yogurt on the marble countertop before seeking a spoon.
“Yogurt?” Jasper asks in disbelief and I look over my shoulder to see him eying it in disgust.
“The only thing here I could find that’s not overly healthy and doesn’t need to be cooked,” I reply as I take a spoon from the dish drainer, admiring the dark mahogany cupboards.
“That’s because this is the Capo’s kitchen. He doesn’t eat much,” Jasper says matter-of-factly, moving towards the black steel refrigerator looking at the frozen meat. “The one downstairs is stocked to the brim with food.”
By this time, I had started to eat my yogurt and my mouth falls at the thought of all that food.
“Let’s go. I’m starving…” I suggest but frown when I see him start to take out meat, vegetables and pasta.
“Nah, I’ll make you something Capa. Downstairs would be crowded and not everyone knows of your presence as yet.”
“You don’t have to…” I start to say out of politeness when in reality I want that food.
“It’s no problem, plus we both know you’re just saying that to be polite when you really want all this…” he winks and I roll my eyes.
“All that food. Nothing else.”
“Well… it can be consumed and its product swal-ow!” he yelps as I throw my spoon at him.
“None of that Casanova. I’m a happily taken woman who will not hesitate to put you in your place,” I jest yet completely serious.
Harmless flirting can lead to so many mishaps, best I make it clear where I draw the line. Plus, Dylan wouldn’t hesitate to end him and Jasper is actually decent company, so far.
“Aye, Aye Capa. Warning received,” he chuckles amused as he moves to the shiny, metallic sink. “I wouldn’t want to be on Capo’s bad side. I meant no harm but you’re so feisty… I’m sure you give Capo a run for his money…”
Ha, if only you knew how I’m putty in his arms…
I roll my eyes at him before getting another spoon and resuming my consumption of the strawberry yogurt.
For the next twenty-five minutes, we talk and he cooks, the aroma making my stomach whine. Turns out Jasper is originally from Spain and found himself in America at age 19. He got into some problems with some gangs and was sold to Silvestre’s Mafia. He’s been with them for four years now and Raphael had been the person he worked under since then.
At the mention of Raphael’s name, I go silent and he notices, flashing me a sympathetic smile.
“How is he? Is he on the compound?” I ask, curious about his condition.
“He’s responding to our voices so he’s alert but he has yet to wake up,” he informs stirring the pot. “…but he’ll push through… he promised…”
The last part was murmured lowly but I heard it and judging by the way this Adam’s apple bobbed and his voice became husky, I know Raphael meant a lot to him. We all are hoping for the best and I hope he does push through.
Minutes later, he serves a plate of shrimp pasta for me and I thank him heartily before digging in. I moan at the explosion of flavours before showering him with compliments.
His cooking skills are extraordinary.
“Why thank you Capa,” he says with a bow and a playful grin. “I am glad it pleases you so…but do slow down, wouldn’t want you to ch-”
“Che cosa sta succedendo qui?”
Jasper stops mid-sentence, straightening and going rigid as his eyes look towards the kitchen door. I follow his gaze to see a sleepy Dylan with tousled hair, red eyes and line indents on his cheek and bare chest.
“Capo,” Jasper bows and I roll my eyes at the Capo mask that has slipped onto Dylan’s face.
Those sharp eyes, clenched jaw and ‘don’t fuck with me’ expression. I don’t like it. I want my Master back.
“Come eat with me,” I say addressing Dylan as I continue to eat my meal. “Jasper was nice enough to make it for me.”
Dylan glances at me and I see his eyes soften as he takes me in only to harden as Jasper clears his throat. Jasper starts to explain why we are here to Dylan in Italian and Dylan nods before dismissing him.
“Si Capo,” Jasper says before turning to me with a smile. “Capa.”
He disappears seconds later and I look at Dylan with a raised brow.
“I get that you’re a big, macho Capo and all but did you have to do that. He was good company.”
Dylan tilts his head raising a brow of his own, making his way towards me. I watch him cautiously as I see a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“Would you rather I leave and invite him back in, Ana?” he asks towering over my form, seated on a stool.
My face is eye-level with his delicious ripped pecs and I find myself gulping as he makes them flex. I drop the fork in the plate licking my lips, my hunger no longer on food. He pinches my chin, raising my gaze to his smirking face.
“Is that what you want, baby girl?”
I wet my lips and say the words that would definitely get a rise out of him.
“If that’s not too much to ask for, Master.”
I barely get time to gloat in the shocked look on his face because the next thing I know, his fingers a wrapped around the back of my neck, my legs are spread and my upper half is flushed on the island.
I’d be lying if I said I regret what I said. I knew where I would get me.
“Since you so blatantly wanted it. I’ll give it to you…”
I turn my head to the side to get a glimpse at him, only to find him smirking as he pulls down the underpants to be greeted with my bare ass.
“I’m going to make this cherry red,” he muses as he gropes and lightly smacks my ass.
He looks like a kid admiring his favourite toy…
His eyes flicker up to me and he grins before leaning towards me, licking my ear.
“Count…” he whispers and I cream as his hand slaps my naked flesh.
“…and this is the entertainment room,” Jasper says as we walk into the modern-looking room stocked piled high with electronic devices.
A large 80-inch TV is mounted on the wall, enclosed by large stereos on each side and neatly packed video games on a shelf below it. A large semi-circular couch is in the centre of the room and a centre table piled with game stations and remotes in front it.
The room has no windows but the ventilation system and lights take care of the possible windowless problems.
“I’m in heaven…” I murmur walking further into the room.
Originally, I was to spend the day with my fiancé probably crippled in bed but alas, it wasn’t meant to be. His work demanded his attention, even in his fragile state and he needed to go, to protect us. His Mafia family and real family.
So, he decided to assign me a babysitter and after minutes of begging on my knees… Well, Jasper got the job but not without my big, macho Capo giving him the third degree.
Now, here we are in the entertainment room to keep we occupied for a few hours until Dylan is back from the meeting. I wanted to go look for Raphael but Jasper suggested a later visit.
“I call Player one!” I hear before Jasper runs towards the couch, jumping over and onto it.
Kids, I tell you.
I continue to look around the room, spotting some traditional games from the 1990s. I gravitate towards it looking at the racing game. That’s what I wanted to play.
“I guess you’re an old-school girl,’ I hear from behind me and I jump, before scolding Jasper.
He apologizes before starting up the game, handing me some coins and I insert it into my slot, straddling the bike connected to it. Jasper does the same and we decide to do a face-off that last hours and happens to draw lots of attention to us.
Other members who are either on break or haven’t been assigned anything as yet find themselves in the entertainment room, surprised to find a fine ass female like myself owning Jasper’s ass in this game. We are on round five and I have three wins under my belt.
Finn, Kingsley and Prince are my cheer squad for the day while three of the men from Jasper’s team stick by their boss’ side, even though he’ll lose. It’s quite cute.
I lean to the left on our final meander before the stretch to victory for my opponent or me. We close in on the finish line, my bike pulling ahead but Jasper on my tail. Everyone is holding their breaths eyes on the screen.
We get closer, each pulling ahead momentarily. The anticipation is high.
The line is seconds away and even I hold my breath try to lose my contender. Jasper pulls ahead and I push harder…
“What is going on here?”
Jasper loses focus as the feminine voice speaks and I pull forward winning the game.
My cheer squad bellows in excitement speaking rapidly in Italian and I clap, laughing at Jasper who frowns clearly, upset.
“Aw, next time Jazz,” I tease patting him on the shoulder and he stale faces me.
“You know you won because I was distracted,” he pouts.
“A win is a win… So don’t be a big loser,” I say with a shrug before smiling at him and he rolls his eyes at me before smiling.
Someone clears their throat and we all look around to spot the leggy redhead standing at the door.
“Mrs. Silvestre,” Jasper says hastily before hopping off the bike and bowing with the other men.
While they bow, I take the time to look over at Dylan’s stepmother. She’s tall with smooth olive skin tone and baby blue eyes. She doesn’t look older than 30 and adorns herself in a white silk top with a pair of blue jeans and white flats.
“Why are you men idling?” she asks her voice strong and authoritative, the tight bun atop her head adding to the look. “Your former leader is dead, your mafia runs the risk of being attacked and you are here playing games…”
All the men in the room are silent watching her like scolded children.
“Get back to work now!” her blue eyes blaze with fury and like magicians, all the men vanished from the room, well, all except Jasper.
Slowly, I make my way off the bike noticing Mrs. Silvestre watching me like a hawk. She scrunches her nose at my attire, which consists of one of Dylan’s sweats and T-shirts.
She looks displeased and I could honestly care less. If she is anything like her deceased husband, she could kiss my ass. Her eyes finally meet mine and I hold her gaze refusing to back down. She smiles a little before returning to her neutral face and turning to Jasper, who I just realize is still bowing.
“Jasper, you can rise and wait outside. I need a moment with Ms. Blake.”
Say what now?
Jasper looks at me with an apologetic look before turning to Mrs. Silvestre and with a nod exit the room.
I mentally relax my nerves as my tour guide leaves me alone in the room with this woman.
Charles’ wife, my fiancé’s stepmother and my future mother-in-law… I stare at her observing her as she does to me. It’s like she’s analysing me, trying to find faults and by the way her nose scrunches I know she has seen many.
The feeling I am getting is that this woman is a stuck-up bitch but deep down I am optimistic. I have faith that under that cold, sharp exterior she might be sweet and kind, the total opposite of her husband. I mean opposites do attract right…
“I guess he could have done worse,” she says airily with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“Excuse me?” I say, shocked. I know she’s not talking about me.
Mrs. Silvestre’s blue eyes take me in as I speak and she tilts her head. Her left hand is hugging her torso and her right elbow rests on it, her fingers gliding over her chin in thought.
“Forgive me carinosa but Cristiano has never brought a woman home. Then here you are… I’m just thinking to myself it could’ve been worse…” she replies nonchalantly, a Spanish accent peeking out and I stare at her in disbelief, my temper rearing its head.
“Don’t take it as an offence,” she continues noticing my hostile look. “You are quite hermosa in a tom-boyish way. I just thought he’d prefer una… mujer.”
… and this is where I end this shit.
“Okay listen up, Mrs. Silvestre,” I say sharply, glaring at the posh-ass heifer in front of me. “Firstly, I don’t give a fuck about that you think of me. I am with your stepson, not you. Secondly, you are very disrespectful and you need to fix your attitude before I fix it for you. Thirdly, if you think your hate for me will get me out of Cristiano’s life, you’re in for a fucking surprise. Now please take that stick out of your ass and act cordial before I show you how a tomboy kicks ass.”
She raises a brow at me with a look of surprise and I cross my hands against my chest giving her my best bitch face. What seems like moments later a grin slides onto her face and it’s my time to raise a brow at the words that leave her lips.
“You have a backbone. Good, you’ll need it here,” she states with a smile before walking towards me, her body language relaxed. “Allow to properly introduce myself.”
She holds out a hand towards me and I eye it warily. “I am Elia Silvestre, Cristiano’s Stepmother, Charles’ wife… and now, widow.”
Sadness flickers in her eyes momentarily before it’s hidden behind her mask as she stares at me, waiting for me to return her handshake.
I continue to eye her, studying her body language and eyes. That cold look from earlier is gone and replaced by a cautious but inviting aura.
This could be a trick…I remind myself but then I do stretch out my hand to shake hers. It’s best to keep your enemies close…
“Indiana Blake, I’m with your stepson,” I say sternly, firmly shaking her slender hands.
“Pleasure, carinosa,” she smiles pulling her hand back. “Let’s take a seat and talk.”
Elia makes her way towards the sofa in front of the TV before sitting and I follow her, taking a seat three feet away from her, adhering to the accustomed social distance, after all, she’s a stranger.
“I know I came off a bit cold at first but living in this house, in this lifestyle… you have to demand respect,” Elia says looking at me with warm but calculated eyes. “That coldness was to see if pushed you’d fight back and of course you did. I guess I should know Nio wouldn’t have chosen a spineless chica.”
I don’t reply to her, unsure of what to say. I mean she isn’t hostile or a bitch but I’m just not warming up to her. Elia starts to tap her thighs, the silence getting to her and she sighs before rising to her feet.
“I’m sure you’ve been in here for hours… Would you mind following me to the kitchen for refreshments? I make a mean Screwdriver and Margarita.”
She looks at me hopefully, wanting me to extend the olive branch and I bite my lip in thought.
She did say that her behavior before was to test me, not that its right, but living in this life I understand. I should be able to give her a second chance but the act before seemed a bit too real…
“Sure, I’d love to but I’m taking an alcohol-free cleanse, so none for me…” I reply giving her a smile and her eyes light up, her lips curving.
“Of course. I understand alcohol can really work a number on your figure. I tend to stay away but seeing the circumstances…” she trails off, her smile faltering before turning away and my heart hurts for her.
I don’t like Charles, never will but Elia must have seen something in him to have married him and look so heartbroken at his death. She loved him, as odd as it seems to me, and she’s hurting. That is why she was so defensive when she met me… Dylan is the closet part of him she has.
“Mrs. Silvestre… I’m sorry…” I want to say ‘for your loss’ but to me, Charles’ death isn’t a loss, so instead I say. “…about the pain you’re going through…It hurts to lose someone you l-”
“It’s okay,” she interrupts wiping away her tears before turning around. “Let’s go get that drink.”
“So you’re from Cuba?” I ask sipping on my Virgin Margarita.
“Si, mi mama y mi papa are proud Cubanos…” Elia replies placing a leg over the other while resting her free hand on the island. “I left Cuba for the U.S. at age 20 and I met Charles at a club there… We fell in love, got married and then I got involved in all this.”
She chuckles, gesturing around the room. “I don’t know how he managed to hide this for one year and three months but he did… I didn’t leave though. I was too far gone.”
I watch her, frowning at the saddened look taking over her features. “Then came our first little girl…”
“Oh yes, Dy– Cristiano mentioned he had sisters…” I say trying to ease her mood. I mean what mom doesn’t like talking about her kids. “Where are they? Do they live here?”
“Indiana, they’re dead.”
“What?” I ask honestly confused.
She flashes me a sad smile. “I had four miscarriages before my beautiful twin girls were born… They died within their first month in the hospital… a hit from a rival Mafia.”
My heart breaks as tears stream down her cheeks and her lips tremble. She wipes her tears away taking a long swing of her drink.
“Elia…” I say placing my drink on the countertop.
“You don’t have to…” she interrupts giving me a pained chuckle. “I was angry when Charles brought Cristiano here. He cheated on me and had a son. The heir he had always wanted… At first, I was a bitch to Nio but I came to my senses… This boy lost his mother and I am the mother figure he has now, I had to woman up. Over time, I fell in love with him like my own child…”
I watch the broken woman before me pull a smile on her lips, her eyes warm as she speaks of Dylan. “He’s a sweet boy and he deserves to be happy… I can’t fault him for his father’s mistake. That man… the one I blindly love…”
Emptying her glass, Elia laughs before shaking her head, eyes droopy. “So enough about me. Are you in love with, my Nio?”
I want to comfort her but from the tenseness in her body, I call tell that’s the last thing she wants… Pity.
“Yes, I am,” I reply before taking a sip of my drink.
“That’s good,” she says clapping excitedly. “He deserves someone to love him unconditionaba-laly.”
She looks to the ceiling with furrowed brows wondering what she has just said. Yep, eight glasses of Margaritas can do that to you.
She giggles covering her mouth and I slowly rise from my chair, making my way towards her.
“Alright, I think it’s time for you to lie down,” I say as I take the glass from her, placing it on the counter.
“No….” she says drawing out the word.
“Yes…” I say imitating her as I help her to her feet, my arm around her waist.
Elia stumbles a lot giggling but I hold her upright.
“Jasper!” I call my ‘babysitter’, needing his help with Elia.
No sooner than I yelled his name Jasper comes crashing through the door gun aimed and cocked, a panicked yet dangerous Dylan beside him.
I scream clutching my chest in fright, backing up so quickly Elia nearly tumbled to the ground.
“Don’t shoot!” I yell in fright as Elia too screams before bursting into giggles.
“Ana, why did you yell?!” Dylan asks scouting the room gun raised.
Jasper has his back to us, pointing his gun to the door and any places people could be hiding in the room.
“I needed help with Elia…” I say my heart in my throat. “I didn’t think you’d come in guns blazing!”
“You should see your face!” Elia giggles stumbling in my arms and I grip her tighter.
“Help you idiots!” I yell as I start to struggle with her weight and she starts to tumble to the ground.
Dylan is the first to move grabbing her and hoisting her into his arms, bridal style as she laughs, kicking out her feet.
“Weeeeeee,” she giggles and I sigh catching my breath, trying to calm my racing heart.
“Nio… my sweet Nio. He’s g-gone,” Elia cries, as she breaks down his arms, caressing Dylan’s face and he tries to calm her by whispering soothing words in her native tongue.
She starts to hiccup and I feel my heart go out to her. She fell in love with a heartless man, been through a lot of shit and has been so strong for too long.
Her cries quiet down and she starts to shake clinging to her stepson. I watch them, the tenseness of Dylan’s body in his crushed black suit, the bags under his eyes and the paleness of his skin. It’s just 5 in the evening and he looks like he’s going to faint any moment now.
“I’m going to take her up to her room,” Dylan announces, his eyes on me and after a few seconds, I nod in understanding.
He needs to handle this.
“Jasper, take Indiana to our room,” Dylan states, turning to Jasper, a tired and pained look on his face.
Jasper nods and Dylan looks at me before bounding out the door with his weeping stepmother in his arms. When they disappear, Jasper turns to me, a small smile on his face.
“She’s been through a l-” he starts to say but I interrupt him.
“I know, she told me,” I state with a sigh. “I’m not judging her… I just feel bad that she had to fall in love with someone who didn’t love her…”
“Fuck baby girl… right there,” Dylan groans as I work my hands against his heated skin.
His body relaxes and tenses as I massage his flesh placing heated kisses that leave him putty in my hands.
It’s eight in the night and Dylan had returned a few minutes ago. We took a shower, ate and now, we find ourselves in bed.
“Cazzo…” he grunts as I hit the right spot, causing his body to uncoil and the tenseness to leave his muscles.
He jerks as push closer to him, kneading his flesh, working him, giving him that release his body needs.
“I know, I know… my hands are magical,” I grin as he lies on his stomach while I straddle him, rubbing his shoulders.
“Damn right, neonata,” he groans as I work his back. “Almost as magical as your mouth…”
I giggle trailing my hands over his wide tattooed back. My fingers glide over the fox tattoo on his lower back and I feel him shuffle, his head turned so he can look at me.
“Ever regret getting it?” I ask as I admire the inked design.
“Never,” he replies looking me dead in the eyes. “The woman I love has the same tattoo at the same place… showing that even apart we are connected… as cheesy as it sounds…”
“I almost got rid of mine,” I say with a frown. “I didn’t want anything to connect us, not after how you l-”
I yelp as I’m flung to the side, my large Macho Capo manoeuvring himself so he is between my legs and hovering over me.
“Let’s not dwell on that,” he says burying his face in the crook of my neck. “We’re here together again and I have no plans of letting you or our daughter go anytime soon…”
His hands trail up the black t-shirt I am in, gripping the waist of his black underpants that I borrowed from his drawer before dipping in, finding my clit.
“Dylan,” I gasp, my body lighting up as he rubs my bundle of nerves.
My stomach clenches and I clamp my legs on his hips, my body tensing.
“I made a promise last night, neonata… and I plan to follow through…”
I bite back a moan as his finger pick up pace circling my tingling clit. He kisses my neck, nibbling on that spot that makes me gush. I cry out as his teeth sink in my skin, the tingle of pain sending a shiver down my spine.
“Dylan,” I rasp out as his finger rub my wet pussy lips.
My back arches and I moan into his ear as my insides coil as his rubs my clit faster awakening the butterflies in my stomach. I grip onto his shoulder, pulling him closer as my eyes start to roll back, pleasure surging through me.
“Like that, neonata?” he whispers against my ear before nibbling and inserts a thick digit into me causing me to gasp and clench around him. “Fuck!”
His thumb continues to caress me and I moan as his finger pumps in and out of me, my thighs clenching around him. I cry out when he curls his finger finding my spot, my fingers gripping his hair roughly and pulling his face to mine. I attack him with my lips, our tongues clashing and our lips bruising at the ferocity of it.
“Dylan,” I whimper as I feel my body tighten and my hips jerking towards his magical fingers. “I want you… in me… please!”
I cry out as he rubs my clit and hits my g-spot giving me so much pleasure my ears ring, blood rushing to my head. I arch off the bed, my legs trembling, so close to the release clawing its way up my boy.
“Dylan! Please!” I cry wanting his cock to be what makes me orgasm not those lovely fingers of his.
I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding when his fingers disappear along with the weight of his body and I find the underpants I am in being ripped from my legs. I barely have time to react when a heavyweight is pressed against me, lips ravishing mine.
I scream into his mouth as without warning his cock slams into me; the pain and pleasure making my head spin. I wrap my legs around his hips, arching as he slams me into the mattress, my cunt gripping him like is cock is its lifeline.
“Dylan!” I cry as he hammers into me, my body shaking and quaking with each thrust.
His fingers find my breast under the t-shirt, fondling my sensitive nipples, tugging as his lips suck on the heated, sweaty flesh of my neck. I clamp my eyes shut, crying out as he shifts us so his dick his my g-spot creating fireworks behind my eyelids.
I dig my nails into his shoulders, my cries becoming louder as he grips my legs placing them over his arm, tilting my body upwards, shifting my womb with each punishing thrust.
“Fuck, Ana!” he grunts, his breaths laboured as he works my sweaty body into an explosive orgasm.
“D-Dylan!” I stutter as my body starts to tremble, the force of the pleasure Dylan gives to me.
His lips cover mine, tonguing my mouth, warmth blossoming in my chest and stomach. I shake against him my body climbing that precipice of erotic bliss looking to dive off, finding its release.
He pulls back placing my feet on his chest locking my legs together with his arms, drilling into my sensitive cunt. I cry out his name at the top of my lungs, tears coming to my eyes at the angle he fucks me at.
“Cazzo!” Dylan cries trusting into me deep and hard and I combust, stars dancing across my eyes.
I bellow his name as I cum, my cunt milking his cock as he spills his seed into my greedy pussy. He releases a throat groan pumping his hip as he empties in me, his seed spilling onto the bed, my pussy filled to the brim.
My body relaxes as it drops from the high and I moan as Dylan pulls out, releasing my legs that drop on either side of him. Dylan watches me with a heated gaze, his eyes trained on the sight of his seed spilling from me.
He bites his lip, before locking his eyes with mine and my chest heaves as his eye darken in a possessive, dominant way.
My eyes observe him taking in his body, sweaty and glistening under the orange, lamplight. Hard planes of muscle, drool worth tattoos and smooth bronze skin. My eyes widen as it locks in on his cock that starts to rise, getting harder by the second.
I gulp before looking up at him to see a coy smile on his face.
“I’m not done with you, neonata…” he says rubbing his thumb against my clit making me jut and gasp, eyes captivated by his gaze. “Not even close…”