I should be embarrassed, vulnerable, yet I feel nothing but powerful under his attention.
When his tongue finally makes contact, lightly grazing my clit, my entire body convulses.
“Oh.” The thrill is so intense, so immediate, that my back arches off the bed.
And when he sucks my clit, stars explode behind my eyelids.
He hums against me; the vibration sending another wave of desire crashing through me.
“Mmm,” he moans appreciatively, his hands gripping my hips tighter. “You taste even better than I imagined.”
He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting mine. “If you want both of us, piccola, you need to understand something.” His thumb circles my clit as he speaks, keeping me on edge. “Caleb and I will own this body. Sometimes separately, sometimes together. But you’ll have to agree to be ours completely.”
The thought of both men taking me at once sends a rush of heat through my body. I moan loudly, unable to contain my reaction.
“You like that idea?” Dom asks, a knowing smirk on his face. “You want both of us worshipping this perfect body?”
“Yes,” I gasp as his tongue slides along my slit again, slow and deliberate.
I thread my fingers through his dark hair, urging him closer, wanting more of his skilled mouth. He obliges, his tongue circling my clit before sucking it gently between his lips.
My hips buck against his face as pleasure builds inside me. Just as I’m about to topple over the edge, he pulls away, leaving me gasping and desperate.
“Not yet,” he whispers against my thigh, placing soft kisses there while I whimper. “I want to savor this.”
I slip into my bedroom, still feeling the ghost of Dom’s touch on my skin. The house is quiet now that he’s gone to his meeting, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Last night I left my diary on the nightstand while I went for water, and now it is beckoning me. I pick it up, flipping through the pages until I find what I’m looking for. My handwriting stares back at me.
Mom is arguing with Dom again. He offered her $5 million to get on with her life and leave us alone. She laughed in his face. Said she deserves more for what she’s been through.
What the hell…five million, though.
I frown, remembering Dom’s words from last night. “Helena isn’t your mother, piccola. Aurora Moretti is.”
The name sits heavily in my mind.Aurora Moretti. My real mother.
I grab my laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard as I type her name into the search bar. The results load, and my heart stutters.
Every article, every link shows the same thing:
“Aurora Moretti, Italian Syndicate Leader, Found Dead.”
“Moretti Family Massacre Ends with Leader’s Death.”
“Italian Mafia Boss Assassinated.”
My hands tremble as I click through the articles. Pictures of crime scenes. Mentions of her being in hiding before her death. I would have been around one-year-old when she died.
This can’t be right.This dead mafia leader cannot be my mother.
I slam the laptop shut, my breathing coming faster now. I need to talk to Milly about this. She might remember something I don’t. Because Dom has to be mistaken. My dad has mentioned nothing about this woman called Aurora. But he hates the mafia and never explained why.
The bathroom calls to me—a chance to wash away these thoughts with hot water.
I strip off my clothes and step under the shower spray, letting it cascade over my shoulders.
My hands rest on the tiles as the water runs down my body, thinking.
