Page 19 of Knocked Up by My Dad's Mafia Boss

I start to reach between us and guide him into me but he stops me with one hand on my wrist. “Not yet,” he says, voice low and strained. “First I want you to say it.”

“Say what?” I pout at him.

“You know what.”

That I’m his.God. I am, aren’t I? I haven’t had anyone make me feel this good well… ever.

“I”m yours,” I breathe. “Only yours, Dante.”

His hips twitch, his cock sliding up, his head pressing against my clit and making me gasp. I can’t wait any longer, aching for him. I reach between us again and this time, he doesn’t stop me. He groans as I slowly slide down on him.

“That’s it, little one. Ride me.”

I roll my hips, gasping out little moans as I get closer and closer to the edge. He’s already been teasing me for so long. “Dante,” I gasp, and before I can tell him I’m close I fall over the edge, grinding my hips down as he thrusts up beneath me, clenching around him.

He rumbles out a groan against my skin, cursing in Italian as he pumps in and out of me, bouncing me up so that my head nearly hits the top of the car.

When he growls against my ear, biting down on my shoulder as he pulses and spills inside me, I relax against him, my thighs trembling with effort.

“What the fuck are you doing to me, little one?” he murmurs against my skin, kissing along my neck.

“Same thing you’re doing to me,” I shoot back.

He hums. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

But he doesn’t pull away. Finally he moves me off him, depositing me in the passenger seat.

I pout over at him as he adjusts himself back into his slacks. “Time to go home.”

And that’s the end of it. I’m left with an ache deep in my body, and he’s acting like he’s not the one who set me on fire.

6

DANTE

“I trust you got Sam home safe last night?”

My shoulders stiffen when Elio asks me that. “I did.”

He nods, pouring us both a scotch. I usually don’t drink this early in the day, but so be it. One won’t hurt.

“I appreciate you watching out for her. She’s getting to that age.”

“That age?”

“The age where she’s going to meet some greaseball to marry.”

The thought of Samantha getting married makes my breath catch in my throat. “She’s only twenty-five.”

“I married her mother at twenty-two.” He smiles at the thought of her, something bittersweet behind it. “Sixteen years wasn’t enough,” he says softly, and then shakes his head as if to clear it. “What about Ricci? Any movement on his part?”

I shake my head. “Not that I can tell. He sends Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum to do everything.”

“And he hasn’t touched our shipments.”

“Not in weeks. Not since before?—”

“The canary,” he finishes for me.