Page 90 of Mafia Billionaire's Surprise Baby
Okay it’s longer than a minute. I have no idea how much time is left on our yacht ride to Ireland, but you know what?
I don’t care.
I could stay here, wrapped in Sal’s arms, forever.
Which seems like it might be kind of a big freaking problem.
I can’t do this. This kind of sweet, lingering morning thing, that people do when they have the time and space to be lovers…
I can’t.
I’m not built for it. I’m Gia Rossi. I’m the queen of being a badass.
Queen badasses don’t need to have morning cuddles.
But when Sal stretches and tugs me closer to his hard chest…
Yeah. I’ll take about five more minutes of this.
I burrow my nose into his pecs. Inhaling, I shut my eyes and let him pull me closer.
I didn’t need it, but damn.
It was pretty nice.
His reaction to Gabriel had been… well. I can’t exactly say that it was unexpected, because I did expect that Sal would be a little miffed by me trying to be flirty to escape something.
It’s the whole reason that I know we could never work long term. He’s going to be jealous of the men that I give attention to. What I didn’t expect, I guess, was how he would turn that around.
And that I would like it.
I’m not sure how to feel about that. I definitely did like all the orgasm that I’d gotten from the whole situation.
I just never really pictured myself as being into spanking but…
Pulling Sal closer, I throw one of my legs over his hip. I’m getting wet just thinking of the feeling of his hand on my butt.
It’s a little sore.
That’s kind of a nice reminder.
Sal grumbles and pulls me in, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Well. I guess that’s one way to wake up.”
“It’s a pretty good way, if you’re asking me,” I say in a tone that is more than just a little satisfied. I know that he can feel how wet I am on his leg.
Good.
Maybe he’ll feel just as ready for me as I am for him.
Sal laughs and tips my chin up to meet his lips. “What did you dream about, Gia Rossi?”
“You,” I answer without hesitation.
It’s always you.
That thought hits me like a punch to the gut. Why would I think that?
I’m not meant for ‘always’ and bullshit like that. I’m the type of girl that you spend a fun week in Paris with, and then leave because I’m not the marrying kind.