Page 17 of Mafia’s Fake Bride

His cock went really hard and she held her breath in excitement. That’s when he pulsed again, only this time, he groaned her name as his cock came to life and spilled the seed he normally spilled inside of her. Over and over he said her name with so much need that she had to squeeze her thighs together to ease the ache there.

Matteo’s body relaxed as he finished, a soft sigh of happiness the only sign that he was content. She looked at his seed, all over her hand where she’d caught it. This was what made babies, this was a man’s essence. She let him go, rolled out of the bed, and went into the bathroom to wash her hands.

He must have been awake, he’d said her name, so he must have, and that made it even better, she decided as she dried her hands. It meant he’d let her have control, he’d let her take what she wanted. That was all she’d wanted.

10

Matteo drove out to the local boat launch and waited for another car to arrive. The sun had barely risen, the glow of sunrise gleamed only along the tips of the trees out in the spillway. It was cool, almost Christmas, and he had one more meeting to get through before they headed back up to New York to celebrate the holiday.

A black car pulled up, black paint gleaming with black-tinted windows rolled up tight. The car stopped next to Matteo’s and a window slid down. The passenger side. A county official sat in that seat and he looked around before he handed Matteo a black folder.

“That everything I need to operate?” Matteo asked softly, his eyes on the folder as he placed it in his seat. He picked up a small messenger bag, the weight of it quite hefty, before he put it in his lap.

“You’ll be celebrating a grand opening in February, just as you planned, Mr. Mazza,” the older man said from his seat in the other car. The man was pale, pink around the cheeks and the nose, with broken blood vessels along the edges of his nose the only sign that the man had a drinking problem. A problem that Matteo had found out about with the help of a private investigator.

“Thank you, Mr. Smith. Nice doing business with you.” Matteo handed over the messenger bag and started the car. The window of the other car went up as Matteo drove away, but he didn’t look back long enough to see. He had what he wanted, now he could get on with the rest of his day.

He now had all the licenses and paperwork he’d need to open his casino, the ice cream parlor, and anything else he might happen to want to open, thanks to Mr. Smith’s love of bourbon and hookers.

Not that anyone would be surprised that a married man in politics took up with hookers, not really, but the damage would be done to his career if it came out. Matteo had used that information to speed things along when it looked like he was about to hit a wall with local agencies.

His smile widened as he drove down the road. He wondered if Marie would still be asleep when he made it back to the house. He wouldn’t mind giving her a little taste of her own medicine. That little tease she’d pulled off last night still had his balls aching this morning, and he knew he’d have to fuck her again before the day was over with.

It would be exquisitely sweet to slide into her, half asleep and still dreamy with warm dreams in her head. The fantasy made him hard as he drove up to the house. He stared up at the white mansion, his eyes on their bedroom window. He turned the car off and went into the house with his ears perked. The tinkle of silverware against a plate told him she was up and having breakfast.

He went down to the dining room and closed the door behind him. With a furtive movement, he locked the door and leaned against it. “Good morning, my dear.”

His smile was barely perceptible, a shadow along his lips as he stared at her. She was dressed in a white robe, her thin nightgown hidden beneath. Sunlight started to break in through the windows as she looked up at him, confused, but happy to see him.

“Good morning, Matteo.” The furtive smile that played along her lips was tinged with a moment of guilt that she breathed away. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did and went out early to get some business out of the way. Have you finished your breakfast?” He could see she had and was just reading the news on her tablet now. She turned to face him properly, intrigued.

“I have. Are you hungry? I can…” But he interrupted her.

“It’s alright. Come here, please, Marie.” His brown eyes narrowed as she obeyed, pleased that she was so eager to respond to him. “You were a busy little wife last night, weren’t you?”

“Was I?” Her voice went deeper, huskier, desire mixed with worry. Was he upset, she wondered. He knew it by the way she glanced at him and then looked down at the floor as she came up to stand in front of him.

“You were, indeed.” His fingers came out as he reached his right hand out to tug at the belt on her robe. Her dark nipples were prominent against the thin white material of her gown, tight and ready for his touch already. “I thought if you were that eager then you should have a lesson this morning.”

“A lesson, Matteo?” Her dark brown eyes, so soft and gentle, came up to meet his with a question. “What kind of lesson?”

For a moment he saw something like defiance there and that pleased him. He wanted her to be the soft, compliant woman he’d met, but she’d have to grow a backbone too. It was something he didn’t want to contemplate. He wanted her to be his toy, but she’d have to interact with his family, with the business, and that meant she’d have to toughen up. He didn’t want to see it happen, but it was inevitable.

“Yes, a lesson, Marie. Kneel for me, please.” She hesitated, her eyes on his lips as if too fascinated to move. “Now, please.”

She bent down onto her knees and sat with her bottom along the length of her legs. “Alright?”

“Lean up, so that you can reach my belt.” His fingers came out again as she sat up, to run along her jaw, to tilt her face up to him. “Yes, like that.”

Her eyes blazed with fire now, orange mixed with the brown to give them a fiery look. The fire of curiosity, the fire of desire. Her desire for him. That only made him harder.

“Open my pants, Marie, take me out.” He breathed the words out, softly, so that anyone that might pass by the door wouldn’t hear. They weren’t alone in the house now.

Her hand came out, flattened over the thick ridge of his cock in his pants. The pressure of her fingers on his dick, those long, delicate fingers that had jerked him off so well only hours before, made a moan form in his throat. He swallowed it down audibly as his nostrils flared.

He felt his eyes narrow as she began to follow his instructions. He wanted to make sure all he saw was her, her reaction to him. He needed to know she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Women could fuck for money, they could fuck for security, but to fuck for the sake of desire, because she wanted to, now that was what got him off. He hadn’t known how much he enjoyed that aspect of sex, the woman’s response, until he’d got Marie off that first time.