Page 42 of The Godfather’s Christmas Twins
“Oh, God.” Her body shudders, and it makes me feel more powerful than I’ve ever felt. I’ve hunted down assholes. Intimidated. Manipulated. Killed. But in this moment, the power I feel surpasses all of that.
I lick and suck. I swirl my tongue around her clit and then thrust it inside her. Her pussy pulses. Her skin under my handsheats. Her breath grows ragged. I’m on my knees worshiping this woman. The only woman who has ever brought me to my knees.
The guilt, the knowledge that this is wrong, hovers at the edges of my mind, but I push it away. I’ll deal with the fallout later. And if I end up dead at Nic’s hands, so be it. I can no longer deny what my body wants… what my heart needs.
“Max!” Her body goes taut. Her essence gushes, and I lap it up as her body shatters around me. I work her pussy, keeping her up for as long as I can until I slowly bring her down.
I rise, wrapping my arms around her as her body goes pliant against mine. I kiss her then, mixing the taste of her pussy with her mouth. She’s so fucking delicious.
“Well?” I ask.
Her breath comes in gasps. “Well, what?”
“Will you fuck me, Gia? Have I begged enough?”
“Yes.”
I scoop her up and carry her to my bed. My goal is to make her forget all her worries. Forget her stalker. Forget Whitley.
It’s not lost on me that I want to forget all my woes as well. She’s not my goddaughter. I’m not her brother’s capo or friend. I’m not her protector. I’m a man who is thoroughly lost in a woman.
I help her remove her shirt and bra and marvel at her exquisite beauty. She’s like a goddess. I start to lie over her, but she stops me.
“You’re forgetting something.”
What? Oh. I reach over and open the side drawer to pull out a condom.
“Not that. Well, I mean you need that, but… you’re still dressed.”
Am I? I’m so focused on ravishing her, I hadn’t paid attention, much to my dick’s dismay. I stand and jerkily removemy clothes. For a moment, I’m self-conscious of my body. I eat well. I exercise, including lifting, but my forty-one-year-old body isn’t quite as sculpted as it had been in my thirties. What if my physique doesn’t do it for her?
Her gaze rakes down my body, stopping at my dick. The heat and maybe nerves I see in her eyes tell me she likes my body just fine.
“It will fit,” I say, stupidly. She knows that. My dick has been inside her before. It was first before Aldo, or anyone else she might have been with since. That second thought makes me growl. I want to kill any other man who’s had her.
“It’s been a while.” Her confession makes warmth, not pride, bloom in my chest.
“We’ll take our time.” I vow to spend as much time with her as possible, not just with her body, but in my life. Maybe her stalker will never be found, and she’ll need to be here forever.
I lie over her, kissing her fully, deeply. Eventually, my hands roam her body, my lips following. I imprint her on my fingertips, in my mind. She’s the same, yet different. Her curves are curvier. Her tits fuller. But her scent, her taste, that’s the same.
“Tell me what you like,” she says.
“I like you.” I lick her nipple and watch as it puckers more.
“I want to make you happy.”
I lift my head. “Do I seem unhappy?” I see frustration in her eyes, and I realize that while she’d been married, she hadn’t been loved. Not like this. Not where her pleasure matters. Not where she was an active participant. Of course, the idea that Aldo could do more than root is laughable. He never seemed like a guy who’d care about a woman’s pleasure. Women existed for his pleasure and procreation. As a result, in many ways, Gia is as innocent as the first time I had her.
I take her hand and bring it to my dick. “Touch me.”
Her hand wraps around me, and my eyes nearly roll back into my head. Her fingers are soft, gentle as she strokes me. “Like that?”
“Fuck… yeah…” I rock my hips, fucking her fingers a few times before pulling my hand away.
She looks up at me with concern. “Did I do it wrong?—”
“No, baby. You did it right. So right, I was about to come all over you. But that’s not what we want, right?”