“Fuck!” My hard girth pressed at her entrance, and I had to stop myself from moving any further.
“Savio, please… fuck me.”
The pleading in her voice stirred my groin. I wrapped my hand tight around her hair and pounded her at a fast pace, giving her what she wanted.
“McKayla… You’ve made the worst mistake, baby.”
“What?”
“You walked into my life.”
I picked up the pace as she cried out, trying to hold up on the bathroom wall. I didn’t want to come just yet. I jerked out of her and turned her around. Sitting on the edge of the seat in the bathroom, she slid down on my throbbing member. My head dropped down to her chest. She then rotated her hips and fucked me instead of me fucking her.
She bounced on top of me once, then twice, slowed down, and rolled her hips. Her groans filled my heart with such a sweet ache when she whined and threw her head back. I cupped the back of her neck and captured her growl with a hard kiss. My fingertips angled around her throat as our mouths wrapped together in our own sexual need. Hearing the unsteadiness of my voice and my balls ready to release, I wasn’t ready for this to be over. Running my hands over her breasts, with our hearts pounding, our eyes didn’t break contact, and I plunged even deeper.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Don’t tell me you can’t handle me on top,” she challenged, and I growled and groped both her ass cheeks, fucking her from the bottom and meeting her thrusts. Our eyes focused on each other, trying to see who would break first. I moved a hand up her neck, holding her in place and easing in and out. She grazed her hand down my chest, and I held onto her tight as the fight for control engulfed us.
We were lying in bed hours later after the shower. McKayla had washed her hair and dried it off. Her curls were full and covered her face. She lay on my chest, and I’d planned for us to go out to dinner, but she was slowly going to sleep.
“McKayla.”
“Huh.”
“We need to get up. We have dinner reservations.”
“I want to stay here and sleep.”
“Not tonight, princess. I have plans for dinner.”
McKayla looked up at me, perplexed.
“We didn’t use a condom.”
“What?”
“In the bathroom. We didn’t use a condom.” She removed her arms from around my waist, jumped up out of bed, and ran to her bag.
“I’m not ready for a baby.” McKayla took her birth control out and left to go to the bathroom for a glass of water.
“You feel better?”
“Why are you not freaking out?”
“I never came inside you.”
“That doesn’t matter, but that brings up a question of children.”
“I don’t want any.” I grabbed my robe, treaded to the closet, and picked out a suit for tonight.
“You mean right now?”
“No, ever.”
“But what about what I want?”
“McKayla. Let’s go to dinner; nothing else matters.”
“I’m not hungry. Have dinner by yourself.”
She tried to walk off, and I grasped her elbow.
“Stop with the spoiled brat attitude and get dressed.”
“When are we leaving?”
“In ten minutes, the car is outside waiting.”
“I need to do something to my hair.”
“Your hair is fine.” I let her go, and she stalked to the bathroom and slammed the door.
Forty minutes later, we were sitting alone out on the top of a hill overlooking the city, with a waitstaff I personally had cater our meals. McKayla was still pissed from the comment I made about not wanting any kids, but I wasn’t planning on changing my mind or letting her go.
“What were you like as a little boy?”
“It wouldn’t surprise you if I said I was bossy. I took after both my father and mother.”
“Your father seems sweet though.”
“He’s older now and changed over time, but Elio Calabresi Jr. was a killer back in the day.”
“Did it ever bother you when you killed someone?”
“No.”
“What about the families?”
“The type of business I run, McKayla, you can’t have friends.”
The waiter brought out our stuffed shells and calamari first.
“Thank you,” McKayla said.
“Tell me about your childhood.”
“I grew up in the typical American family—two-parent household with loving parents.”
“They seem strict.”
“They were, but they still let me have a little wiggle room.”
“Is that why you’re always running now?”
“You never really gave me a good reason to stay.”
I paused at her comment, nodded, and grabbed the napkin to eat.
“For this to work, we must have honesty.”
“I agree, but I told you I wouldn’t go to the police.”
“It’s not just the police.”
“Well, besides your other mafia enemies.”
“Colombo is after me because of Nevio’s death.”
“I heard police reports talk about drugs.”
“He had our product, which makes me believe he tried to set us up or sell our products behind my back.”
“But death shouldn’t have been the answer.”
McKayla grabbed her wine and took a gulp.
“In this business, it has to end in death.”
“So why didn’t you kill me?”
I paused at her question in thought.
“Because you did me a favor when you interrupted Gennaro’s plan.”
“Oh, now we’re getting somewhere.”
“I’m not telling you any more.”
“No, you opened the door. Please walk through it, husband.”
` McKayla batted her eyelashes, and I froze at her flirting with me. The light across her face made her look so innocent and sweet. Maybe I was corrupting her and didn’t even know how far I was taking things.
“Viviana is Gennaro’s daughter.”
“I remember that.”
“She and I used to mess around.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“She’s just as corrupt as her father.”
“Hard to agree when I’m sitting here with you.”
“Different, I know when to let go. Gennaro was forcing my hand and trying to get our families to join forces.”
“Wouldn’t that put you in a better position?”
“No, because I have an idea that he was planning on killing me once I married his daughter. Only way I was to continue being in charge as Don was to marry.”
“Through an arranged marriage.”
“Yes.”
“Are they both still making decisions in the Five Families?”
“I’ve talked enough; let’s change the subject.”
“Fine, when are we going back home?”
“Day after tomorrow.”
“This was a short trip.”
“I have a charity event and business back home.”
“Thank you for inviting me.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“When did you lose your virginity?”
I spat my wine out at her question, and she laughed.
“McKayla.”
“What? I was nineteen. Come on, changing the subject, remember.”
“I’d rather not say.”
“What? Big bad Savio is tongue tied.”
“Fifteen,” I mumbled.
“Excuse me?”
“I was fifteen.”
“Did your parents know?”
“No, only my brothers.”
“Who was she?”
“A whore.”
This time she spat her drink out and choked.
“What did you say?”
“She was a girl I was seeing, and we slept together. Then she cheated.”
“Did she break your heart?”
“I don’t have a heart.”
The rest of the meal of mussels and fettuccine came out, and we continued talking and learning about each other for the rest of the night and finished off the evening in bed, with her legs wrapped around me, screaming my name.