Mafia Daddy (Vegas Underground 4)

She’s crying out with each breath, porn star noises, and I’m beyond saving.

I roar as cum shoots down my length. I push forward, forcing her flat on her belly as I release, then I fuck her some more in the new position, just because it feels too damn good to stop. Her pussy squeezes me in tight little pulses as she reaches orgasm with me.

Finally, the rush eases and my brain returns. I quickly untie her wrists before I cause her real discomfort and I cover her body with my own. My lips brush her neck, her jaw, her ear.

“Bambina, you have a magic pussy. Best fucking pussy I’ve ever had in my life. I swear to la Madonna.”

She gives a broken laugh.

I roll her to her back to make sure she’s okay. Her face is flushed, eyes still glazed. A beautiful smile plays over her lush lips. I kiss down her torso, starting with her collarbone, between her breasts, her soft belly, the apex of her shaved pussy.

“This pussy belongs to me.” I can no longer withhold my claim—especially not now that I’ve had her. I pull one of her knees open and just stare down at it. “I can’t fucking stand that Nico Tacone had a claim on you all these years.”

“Alex.” I hear the censure in her voice as she pushes herself up on her forearms.

“I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t even his. But it makes me fucking crazy.” I pick up both her ankles and lift them in the air, exposing her bare ass and I start spanking again, hard and fast. “This ass belongs to me.”

“Okay, Alex! Enough!” She kicks hard enough to get one ankle free and I give my head a shake. I know I’ve gone way too far. I have no right to lay claim to Jenna Pachino. Hell, if I wanted to keep my balls, I wouldn’t have even touched her. But the alpha male in me can’t stop. Not until she’s mine.

I reclaim her ankle but don’t spank her again. I just rub her ass, let my thumb trail between her cheeks to find the pucker of her anus. “I know I’m a dick,” I admit. “I can’t own you, can I, baby? You’re an independent young woman. You have a bright career mapped out for yourself. No way you wanna get chained to Cosa Nostra. Not after you barely escaped it.”

She blinks at me, lashes wet.

I lower her legs and ease her to her side, then settle in behind her, one arm draped over her waist. “My ma couldn’t handle it.” I can’t believe I’m talking about it. I’ve never talked about it. But Jenna brings all this out in me. “That’s why she left us. I was only seven when she walked out on my dad and my brother and me.”

Jenna goes still, then rolls over to face me. Her brows go down, a line of concern between them.

“Because of La Famiglia?”

“Sì. My dad said it was too much to take, the worry and guilt. She was a sensitive soul. She didn’t care about the money, just fell in love with my dad. Maybe she loved him too much. I remember she used to wring her hands and pace around every night he was out. She’d rush to the door when he got back and throw her arms around his neck saying thank God you’re home.”

Jenna’s eyes fill with tears. “I understand how she feels.”

I stroke her cheek with my thumb. “Do you worry, too, baby?”

She nods. “I tried to follow my mom’s lead. Pretend there’s nothing different about our family. Stick my head in the sand. But how could I when we went to funeral after funeral? When every guy was either in jail or dead? And all that time I had the marriage contract hanging over my head.”

I wrap her up in my arms. “I know, baby. That was bullshit. I’m so sorry.” I kiss her hair, which is silky soft. “You were so brave.”

“And my mom?” she croaks. “How could she let it happen?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know, bambi.”

“How could you?” she whispers. Tears drip down her cheeks.

There it is. The accusation I’ve been hurling at myself all these years. How could I let such a thing happen to a sweet, innocent girl? Grazie a Dio it didn’t actually manifest, but what if it had? I have no answer for her.

My stomach churns. I push up to sit.

She also sits up, wrapping her arms around her waist. “Did you even stick up for me? Did he ever talk about it?”

I get up off the bed to pace. “Yes, I fucking advocated for you!” I thunder, although I don’t know why I’m raising my voice to her. It’s her father I’m really angry at. “The second he got that letter from you, I told him it was time to renegotiate. That the contract was too old-fashioned to enforce in this day and age. Tacone’s rich, though, so he wanted to figure out a way to keep him on the hook, but I talked him out all of it. And no blame was put on you. When you go home, you’ll be welcomed with open arms. I promise you that, or I wouldn’t have come for you.”