Seduced by the Mafia Boss (Forbidden Confessions 8)

I’m gone. I’m lost. His thorough touch sweeps me away. It convinces me that he’ll always adore me.

Look where that got you last time.

I open my eyes to find him staring at me like I’m the only woman he’s ever wanted, and he’s never going to get enough. “Don’t look at me like that if you don’t mean it.”

Despite his mobster suit and manners, something almost soft crosses his face. “I do. But we have to fuck, regardless. So let’s make up for lost time. What do you say?”

When he’s not clouding my thoughts with his touch, I’m sure I’ll realize his suggestion is ridiculous. Naturally, I’ll figure out that I should demand we do something besides have sex to cover our asses. But with his hands on me, I fall into those hypnotic black eyes and beg. “Please.”

“That’s my pretty Little Red.” He nips the rigid peak of my breast with his teeth, gently lifting it with his bite so he can suck it deep again.

I gasp at the sting of pain—something only he’s ever given me. Just like the first time he did that, heat flushes my bloodstream. Arousal curls between my legs. I shift restlessly beneath his big body.

If he’s being honest—that we’re being watched by mobsters who might kill us both if the performance isn’t good—then I should give them a show, right?

Nice rationalization.

Suddenly, he peels off his suit coat, tossing it onto the pillows above. He does the same with his shirt, his eyes never leaving mine. Not going to lie, my heart starts racing even faster. My need torques tighter. It’s his black eyes on me. His expression that promises he’s going to undo me. The confidence in the way he moves.

I’m toast.

All the shockingly well-inked muscle he reveals as his shirt comes off doesn’t hurt, either.

“I love that hot little stare of yours eating me up.” He toes off his shoes and kicks them aside while popping the button at the waistband of my jeans. “Almost as much as I fucking love to look at you naked.”

His seductive words hit my brain as he peels the denim from my hips. Maybe I should fight him, but I don’t. Instead, I help him kick off my pants.

When they fall to the floor, forgotten, those obsidian eyes of his zero in directly between my legs. His thumb follows, trailing over embarrassingly damp panties. “I think you like me looking at you naked almost as much as you like me touching you.”

He just had to point out how obviously hot I am for him. “Shut up.”

“And fuck you? I’m getting to that.” He scans the room, his stare pausing for a fraction of a second in a couple of crannies and corners.

“What is it?”

Ridge doesn’t answer right away. He lowers himself over my body and works his way between my legs. “I’m going to shield you as much as I can, but…”

He can only do so much. “I know.”

But I’m still pissed. This whole night has been a debacle.

“Now be a good girl and fight me.” Ridge grabs my wrists in one huge hand and pins them to the mattress. The other hand he works between us and snaps the button and zipper of his trousers free. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes.” He invited me to take out my frustration on him, so I’m going to. “You son of a bitch.”

When I wriggle and try to close my legs against him, tensing and arching, he pins me to the bed with more of his body weight and smiles like a shark as he shoves my panties to one side. “They might see me fuck you, Little Red, but they’ll never see your pussy. That’s mine.”

Is he serious? “No, it’s mine.”

“Not anymore. You gave it to me.” He aligns his crest against my slick opening as if the matter is settled. “I’m clean. You on the pill?”

“No, and I think you should—”

“Glove up? Wouldn’t look good for the show.” He sighs. “Fuck it. Nothing like living dangerously.”

Then he covers my mouth and breaches me with his tongue as he shoves forward, filling me with his thick cock in one rough, toe-curling thrust. Despite my nine-week abstinence, I have no trouble taking all of him because I’m embarrassingly wet.

With a groan, he eases back, then thrusts deeper, bottoming out inside me. My traitorous vagina closes around him, gripping him like she’s eager to make sure he knows I’ve missed him.

Why can Ridge make my own body betray me so easily?

“That’s so fucking good,” he growls in my ear as he pumps me with slow, strong strokes. “If we weren’t being watched, I would savor you. I would peel off your pretty, wet panties and eat your pussy until I wring a few orgasms from you.”

Against my will, my body bucks with excitement. “No.”