Page 101 of Sweet Prison

“I love…”—he slams into me—“…when you look at me…”—slam—“…like that.”

“Like what?” I grab his forearms, trying to hang on.

A wicked smirk pulls at his lips. His cock is lodged deep inside me as he bends until his face is hovering just above mine.

“Like a hungry little she-wolf who can’t decide if she’d prefer to eat me, or to be eaten instead.” He slides out, only to slam into me again, burying himself to the hilt.

New constellations are born in front of my eyes as he keeps pounding into me while another orgasm overtakes me. I clutchthe front of his shirt as strange mewing sounds leave my lips while I ride on the waves of pure bliss.

“Mine!” Massimo roars while rope after rope of his seed fills me.

“Mine!” I echo.

***

“We’ll leave through the kitchen door,” Massimo says as he helps me into his suit jacket. A few of the buttons on his shirt are missing, and there are long thin red scratches on his neck. Did I do that to him? I don’t remember.

“There’s no going back to the party for you, I’m afraid.”

“I assumed as much,” I smirk. Me returning to the great hall with the entire center panel of my skirt missing and my private business front and center for everyone to see, might be a bit too much. Even for a less conservative crowd. And this one is definitely not that.

Massimo crouches before me, buttoning the jacket up. He barely finished the last fastener when a strange popping sound bursts forth somewhere outside the room.

“What the—”

Quickly, he presses his forefinger to my lips and shakes his head. Then, he pulls one of his guns out from the holster that’s stapped around his torso.

“A gunshot,” he whispers and cocks the hammer of his weapon.

His steps are utterly soundless as he crosses to the door and cracks it to look outside. Music and laughter immediately bleed into the study, but the sounds are muted as if coming from adistance. Although I didn’t pay too much attention to our path here while Massimo carried me, I’m certain we ended up in the furthest part of the house.

“Stay here,” Massimo throws over his shoulder and slips into the dark hallway.

Other than the muffled clamor from the party, there’s no other noise. Maybe it wasn’t a gunshot after all? It didn’t sound loud enough to be one. I slide over to the door, peeking through the tiny gap Massimo left when he exited. There isn’t much to see in the darkened space, and Massimo’s broad back blocks the rest. He’s standing at the open doorway to the room directly across the hall.

“What the fuck,” he mumbles, and lowering the gun, steps inside.

Throwing a quick glance down at myself to make sure his jacket is covering all my exposed parts, I tiptoe into the hallway. When I reach the threshold of the other room, I stop dead in my tracks.

The body of a woman in a black minidress is sprawled on the floor next to a chest of drawers. Blood is seeping from the hole in the middle of her forehead, soaking the short blonde strands of her hair that are partially hiding her face. She looks somewhat familiar, but with all the blood, I can’t place her. Her eyes are open, and they seem to be staring right at me. I want to turn away, yet can’t. I’ve never seen a dead person this close before.

“What happened?” Massimo’s agitated tone pulls me from my stupor.

I finally tear my gaze from the body and only then realize there’s someone else in the room. A tall, burly man in a gunmetal-gray suit stands over the dead woman. His back is turned to me, and in his right hand, loosely hanging next to histhigh, is a weapon equipped with a silencer. As he turns around, I realize who he is.Holy shit!

“Start talking, Adriano,” Massimo snaps. “Now.”

Adriano thrusts the gun into the waistband at the back of his pants and takes off his glasses. His movements are almost disturbingly casual, especially once he starts wiping the lenses with a small cloth he pulled from inside his jacket.

“I don’t see how my personal matters are any concern of yours, Spada.”

Personal matters?I look at the dead woman again, and my hand flies to cover my mouth. Dear God. That’s Adriano’s wife.

“Filippa wasn’t a Family member,” Adriano continues. “Therefore, her death shouldn’t be of any interest to Cosa Nostra.”

“But you are.” Massimo surges forward, getting in Adriano’s face. “Dead bodies have been piling up the last few weeks and disposing of them requires a shitload of work. I certainly don’t need to add yours to my count.”

Adriano takes one disinterested look at his dead wife. “Don’t worry. I will clean up after myself.”