Page 41 of Diary of a Mafia Princess

Nyah pretended to inspect her nails. “I don’t know. I think there’s probably a lot of wedding stuff I need to do. But I mean, maybe we could find some time to go to the rink if you get down on your knees and beg me.”

He smiled slyly, stood, and went to her side of the bed.

She looked up at him, no trace of the watery eyes she’d had when we’d let ourselves in.

He dropped to his knees silently on the thick carpet, and she grinned like she’d won something.

Until he circled his fingers around her ankles and gave them a sharp tug so she slid across the bed.

Like he’d done it a million times, he had her legs spread wide around him, while he kneeled in between.

None of us missed the gasp that echoed around the room.

Or the way it sounded breathy and turned on. Rather than shocked and scared like when Carlos had surprised her.

Luca’s gaze rolled up her sweats, lingering on the tiny patch of bare skin showing between her pants and her hoodie, and then higher until he reached her face. “I’m on my knees, princess. You sure the only thing you want me to do is beg?”

For half a second, I thought she was going to turn into a puddle, and I was going to have to stand in the corner of the room while he yanked off her pants and put his mouth on her pussy.

That’s exactly what the tension in the room demanded. Hot, wet, sweet fucking.

But she just put one bare foot to his chest, kicked him back, and sat up, all in one motion. “I’ll come. But then you guys owe me a favor in return.”

Luca looked at her with distrust. “What sort of favor?”

She shrugged. “I’ll call it in when I know what I want. Until then, you’ll just have to agree to owe me.”

Luca rocked back onto his heels and stood. It was clear to me he didn’t like the idea of owing anyone anything. He glanced at me.

I shrugged. “She’s the boss.”

“Pussy-whipped,” he muttered.

I laughed. Because while I was getting paid to do whatever Nyah told me, what was his excuse?

12

DAX

Dear Diary,

Today I decided breaking into Hell might be easier than letting her marry the devil.

It was late when the bell over the shop door tinkled, and I groaned internally, another tattoo; the last thing I wanted to do at this time of night. I’d managed to keep myself busy all day, but Nyah had never been far from my mind.

I itched to touch her. The tiny glimpse of her at the Guerras’ was not enough to satisfy even a little of the need I had for her.

And if I couldn’t touch her, then I needed to go punch something. Getting in a fight right now probably wasn’t a good idea. That would only lead to getting myself thrown in a cell at the police station in Providence. But there was a bag in my basement that had been getting more workouts lately than back when I’d been a teenager and had fought for sport.

It was the only thing that took the edge off missing her.

Reaper put his broom down and crossed the room, smiling widely for the woman who’d walked in the doors.

I breathed a sigh of relief, recognizing Violet, Reaper’s woman.

And Nyah’s best friend.

Reaper put his arms around Violet and kissed her upturned face. “Hey, you. You good?”