Page 36 of Diary of a Mafia Princess

She went stiff as a board, but if he noticed, he didn’t let on. He stroked his fingers up and down her bare back, his touch featherlight but possessive. He leaned in, inhaling the scent of her hair or her perfume.

She flinched.

Beside me, Lynx stiffened as much as I did. I could feel more than see the clenching of his fists, and I leaned into him, ever so slightly, knowing if my uncle or one of my father’s other men noticed the aggression in Lynx’s posture, he’d be dead on the floor without any of them asking questions.

He breathed out heavily, but it didn’t make enough noise to draw my father’s attention.

He was too busy with his new plaything. He chuckled at her. “So jumpy. Your father didn’t lie then about his virgin daughter. Has a man never touched you like this, Nyah?”

She shook her head. “No, sir.”

I called bullshit, but whatever. She was playing the part well.

My father’s fingers stroked up her spine until they reached the tie at the back of her neck. He tugged the string and peeled down the front of her dress, exposing her tits.

Unlike last night, when I’d drunk in my fill of her body, this time, I turned away.

And let the jealousy ignite inside me.

It came on hot and fast, consuming me like a wildfire I had no business being in the middle of.

I didn’t look up until Nyah gasped. She covered her breasts with her arms self-consciously.

But my father knocked them away, showing her off to the room. “Now, now. No need to hide yourself.” He ran his hand over her shoulder, and then lower, scooping up one of her tits and giving the nipple a good squeeze. And then he twisted her, ducking his head to take her nipple in his mouth.

She stifled a noise of surprise. And her hands fluttered uncertainly.

But she didn’t try to stop him.

Jealousy waged a war inside me. I was equal parts turned on by the sight of her tits and raging on the inside that another man was touching her.

My father licked and sucked on her, making eye contact with every man in the room as he did. Making sure we knew she was his to do what he pleased with, anytime, anywhere. He took his time, building her nipple up into a stiff peak, it popping out of his mouth, wet and shiny, aching for more. He used his hands to push her tits together and then pressed his face between them, licking her cleavage like he was marking her.

And he was.

This little show was him clearly claiming what was his in front of his men. He groaned, moving his hips from beneath her. “It’s going to be so hard to keep you a virgin until our wedding night.”

Pink bloomed across her skin. “Your men are watching,” Nyah whispered to him. “We could take this…somewhere more private.”

Something inside me wanted to scream at that. But I wouldn’t let the sound travel up my throat.

She was going to marry my father and then she’d be bouncing on his cock nightly. I might as well get used to it.

My father was as old-school as they come. He shook his head at Nyah and lifted her off his lap. “Tidy yourself up before I get carried away. I expect my wife to be able to wear white on her wedding day.”

She blinked at him and then gathered up her dress, stumbling around to our side of the desk once more, trying to get her tits back in place and do the tie up at the back of her neck at the same time.

Lynx stepped forward to help her, grasping the ties for her and making quick work of them.

I grimaced on the inside.

My father wouldn’t like it.

And I was right; his eyes narrowed on Lynx. “Who are you?”

Lynx focused in his direction. “Miss Matish’s bodyguard, sir. We haven’t had a chance to meet yet. Torin Cross. Most people call me Lynx though.” He stepped forward and offered my father his hand.

My father just looked at him, until Lynx dropped it and stepped back into line with me and Nyah.