My fingers dip into the sides of her panties as I pull them down her legs and drop the clothes to the floor behind me. She lifts her ass toward my face, always impatient and a little greedy, just the way I like her.
Her knees touch the mattress as I bring my mouth down on her, sucking her clit gently. She lets out a loud gasp, jerking upward, offering her pussy to me. I take it, devouring her core with my tongue and lips, loving the way she tastes.
I’m calculated in my movements, following her body language and touching her the way she needs to be touched.
“Yes!” she cries out, rocking her bottom toward my face, practically grinding her pussy against me.
I want her orgasm. I want her pleasure. But not this way. I want to be buried deep inside her, leaving my imprint, owning her.
When my lips leave her body, her eyes fly open. “What are you doing?” she asks as I undo my pants and kick them to the floor.
“Bella, I want to make love to you. I want to feel your body squeezing me, wanting me, needing me.”
“But I was…”
I bring my face close to hers and stare into her eyes. “You’ll come, baby. I’ll make sure of it.”
Her fingernails dig into the skin of my back as I push my cock ever so slowly inside her warmth. We rock together, gasping for air and never wanting the moment to end.
I make love to Daphne. First slow and loving, and then, when she’s ready and I’m finally willing, I pound into her until she can’t form another word.
19
Daphne
“Are you ready for this?”
Today’s the day. Our fathers have agreed to a sit-down, for a brief time, to discuss how they’re going to handle our relationship and their future grandchild. They’re over-the-top ridiculous and idiotic. I’ll never understand why men do the crazy, silly shit they do, and age doesn’t seem to help them either.
Leo leans forward and kisses the top of my head. “It’ll be fine.” I’m not sure if he’s trying to convince me or himself.
My father wanted Mario to come to the bar for the meeting, but we all knew that was a horrible idea. I’ve seen enough mafia movies to know a sit-down has to take place in a neutral location. No mob boss is willing to go into enemy territory, even if it is to call a truce.
Leo invited both men to his penthouse for a one-on-one, figuring it was the only place that made any kind of sense. He invited his father to come over early because I haven’t had the pleasure, and I use that word very loosely, of meeting the Mario Conti.
“What if it’s not?” I check my makeup in the mirror for at least the third time, wanting to look perfect.
I’m always a skeptic, especially when it has anything to do with my father. Leo’s father is the great unknown to me, but Leo’s told me he’s just as much of a hard-ass as my dad. So, basically, we’re screwed unless they can rise above their petty bullshit for the sake of their grandchild.
Leo squeezes my shoulders from behind me as I stare at my reflection. “Trust me. They may be pigheaded, but neither man is stupid. It’s going to be all right, Daphne,” he tells me when I give him a skeptical smile in the mirror.
“Why am I so nervous?”
I had trouble applying my eyeliner a few minutes ago because my hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t draw a straight line to save my life. I know how much is at stake with this meeting and the myriad ways shit could go south. If my father and Mario can’t work things out… Well, I don’t even want to think about how that’ll impact the life of my baby,our baby, in the future.
Before Leo can respond, the doorman calls, letting us know Mario Conti is on his way up in the elevator. I shake out my hands, trying to get rid of a little nervous energy before the show begins.
“Relax,” Leo says like it’s just that easy.
That’s totally a man thing. My three brothers are barely ever rattled about anything. I never see them pacing with worry or popping Xanax like it’s their lifeblood. That’s purely a woman thing. And I’m not sexist, I’m a realist. Men let shit slide off their backs, figuring what’s done is done and what will be will be, so they don’t even bother spending any energy worrying about how they fucked something up. I never thought I was a worrier. But the older I get, and now with the baby on the way, my stress level is off the charts ridiculous.
The elevator chimes before the doors open, revealing an older, just as handsome version of Leo. Mr. Conti’s studying something on his phone when he steps into the foyer dressed in a three-piece suit, shoes so polished I’m sure I could see my own reflection, and his hair perfectly styled like he just stepped out of the silver fox edition ofGQmagazine.
His gaze travels up my body, but not in that creepy way, before his eyes meet mine. There’s no smile on his face, no way for me to judge what the hell he’s thinking.
“Pop, it’s good of you to join us,” Leo says, greeting his father with way more formality than I’ve ever greeted mine.
His father’s eyes veer away from me for a moment to look at his son, and I’m thankful for a reprieve, even if it’s short-lived. “Leo,” he says coldly before his gaze is back on me. “You must be Daphne.” He steps forward, entering the foyer which now seems way too small for the three of us.
