Mafia Daddy (Vegas Underground 4)

But Jenna, she’s special to me. She’s the girl who offered secret smiles and stolen glances from the first day the don took me under his wing. She teased and joked with me when I was nervous, held my hand at my father’s funeral, and delivered home-baked Italian dishes for the month after.

And she’s hotter than sin. So yeah, I still want to dominate her, but taking good care of her is at the forefront of my mind. Which I guess translates to being her daddy.

“Yes, Daddy.” She says it immediately, like there’s nothing weird about me demanding she call me that. This girl was fucking made for me. I knew it.

All these years, I couldn’t believe God would forsake me by handing her over to someone else.

But now she’s free. The contract’s been broken, Nico Tacone married his little art historian, and the mountains didn’t fall. The Families didn’t even squabble over it.

“Good, because I fucking love spanking you, principessa.”

Her ass is hot, and turning from pink to red. It strikes me with stab of horror that I might have gone too far. She is drunk, after all. She might not be experiencing the real pain of it.

I stop and rub her cheeks, handling them roughly because I can’t control myself.

She rolls her hips, taunting me. Teasing me. Offering herself to me.

Not. Tonight.

Cazzo.

I bring two fingers between her legs. Her panties are soaked. I slip under them and work her clit, rubbing it lightly at first, then penetrating her with just one finger. She’s tight—but I work my digit in, then add a second one.

Her juices leak freely, her moans sound wanton. “Alex,” she breathes.

I pull my fingers out and smack her ass. “Daddy.”

“Daddy,” she repeats immediately.

“Good girl.” I reward her with a firmer treatment of her clit, circling it, rubbing. I penetrate her again with two fingers, pumping them in and out.

“Alex-Daddy-please,” she begs, stringing the words together.

“You need to come already, baby?”

“Yes, please. Oh!”

I love the way she arches her back like a little kitten, sticking her ass up in the air to meet my fingers. I fuck her faster with them, harder. I insinuate my thumb between her ass cheeks and press it against her anus.

She comes immediately, her muscles spasming around my fingers, her body flattening and going rigid. She kicks her legs out straight behind her, tightening all the muscles as her pussy squeezes and releases.

“That’s it, principessa,” I murmur. When she’s done, I slip my fingers out and drop a kiss on her reddened cheeks. “Now, get in bed.” I help her to her feet. I can’t fucking stand, because my boner is so hard against my leg I’m afraid it will break off.

“What about you?” She looks down at my obvious discomfort.

I wave an impatient hand. “Get in the fucking bed, little girl. Your ass is red enough.”

She smiles and cups her ass, then shrugs and heads to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

She must be sobering up.

And no, I tell myself firmly, that doesn’t mean I can fuck her now.

Chapter 2

Jenna

I wake in the morning with a headache and a case of cottonmouth. A familiar, manly scent fills my nostrils and I sit bolt upright with a gasp.

It definitely wasn’t a dream.

Alex sits on the hotel suite sofa, reading a newspaper, still dressed in his fine Italian suit like he never slept. There’s a coffee carafe and a tray of food from room service on the table, though. How did I sleep through all that?

“Buongiorno.” Alex’s deep raspy voice goes straight to my lady parts.

And that’s when I realize I’m naked except for my G-string. I yank the sheet up to my shoulders, then climb out, keeping it intact. I have to tug a couple of times to pull it off the bed.

Alex watches all this with a mixture of amusement and the smoldering desire I remember always burned in his eyes for me.

Oh, God—it’s really true! It’s really happening. Alex is here, in my suite, and he’s into me. So into me, he pleasured me last night without taking any satisfaction of his own.

There’s nothing more I want than to be pounding between those legs until you can’t walk straight tomorrow.

“Buongiorno. I, um, am just going to brush my teeth.”

The corners of Alex’s lips turn up. “You do that. I put a bottle of ibuprofen out on the counter in case you need it.”

My heart somersaults. “You did?” Sweet man.

Don’t read too much into it, I caution myself. Alex is a player. If he’s into me, it’s only because I’m no longer off limits. He needs to check me off his list. Or make me a notch in his bedpost—whatever the saying is.

I pop a couple of the painkillers, brush my teeth, and wash my face. Then I drop the sheet, turn around, and look at my ass in the mirror. There are a couple of small red marks, but otherwise, nothing. I squeeze my cheeks with my hands. No residual pain at all. Which seems amazing because I remember him spanking me pretty hard.