I’m have the naughtiest dream. Maybe that’s what happens when your husband introduces you to great orgasms. Two hands slide down over my hips, and fingers hook into my panties, slipping them down over my hips, lower past my thighs and ankles, until they’re completely off.
My legs are nudged apart. I try to hold them closed, but a digit on my clit, eliciting a fantastic churn of excitement that makes me shiver, coaxes my thighs apart. I feel the softness of his lips on my bare mons, causing me to grow wetter and needier. I spread for him, and he replaces his finger with his tongue. He licks me from one end to the other, rolling his tongue around my puckered rosette, all the way to my very sensitive clit. That talented tongue dips inside my pussy, then begins lapping at my core. My hand holds his head to my center.
I lift my hips, moving in time with his mouth. I can’t get enough of him. I feel two fingers come inside me, filling me, then pumping in and out. His whiskers rubbing against my thighs makes it all the hotter.
“Come apart for me, tesoro,” Rafe says. I’m now well aware that this magical dream is real. I moan, bucking beneath him. Reaching, reaching… Oh my, sweet euphoria as the wave of release washes over me. I feel like I’m floating in the clouds.
His lips travel upward, pressing kisses on my belly. Licking at my skin, he takes a pebbled nipple into his mouth, sucking gently as his hand plays with the other, rolling it between his fingers. The burning desire that was recently satiated builds again.
“Rafe.” I groan as I feel him at my entrance.
“I know what you need,” he murmurs at my ear, then nips my lobe, sending a delicious tremble of excitement down my spine.
It’s not like the first time. This is slow and steady as he inches his way inside my pussy. I feel every part of him. He’s huge, but I love the ache it causes. He’s in so deep, remaining perfectly still. He lifts his head, his hands smoothing the hair from my face, his gazed fixed on mine.
“You make me crazy, baby. I want to be inside you for hours, listening to your sweet moans and calling my name. One day soon, I’m gonna tie you to my bed and spend the entire day making you call my name with the passion I hear when you come. But for now, I want you to keep your hands right here.” He places my hands at the bars on the headboard. I grab them as he instructs, needing to know what comes next. “God, I love the feel of being inside this hot pussy. I’m going to watch this pussy swallow it over and over. Don’t worry, I’ll let my baby come again.”
It seems so salacious, and yet I can feel the dampness pooling between my legs. He lifts himself onto his haunches, adjusting my hips to the perfect angle, still inside me. When he has me as he wants, he pulls out, then comes back in at his pace. Eventually, he’s rutting like a bull at a feverish pitch and taking me along with him. His finger finds my clit and circles it over and over. My legs are spread so wide, I can’t move, but I’m desperate for Rafe to let me come.
“Oh please,” I beg. I try to arch my back for more contact.
“You want to come?” he teases, slowing his pace.
“No, Rafe. Please. I need more.” I don’t care if I’m begging at this point.
“You plead so prettily,” he says, and drives in faster and harder. This orgasm is more intense than any other. My legs shake and my chest heaves as I soar through the sweet abyss. I shut my eyes tightly, but it doesn’t drown out the sound of Rafe’s roar as he embraces his own release.
Rafe is careful as he slides off me and settles with his back on the mattress. He hefts me up to lie on his chest.
“I think I like being married,” he teases. “Don’t forget you have a very important task today.” I tilt my head in confusion, then he adds, “The bedroom.”
“Don’t you want to help me choose?” I rest my chin on my hand on his chest.
“I have business to attend to.”
“What if I pick something you don’t like?”
“Then I’ll tell you and you can return it and pick something else. As long as you don’t add stuffed animals and pink pillows, I’ll be fine,” he jokes. His phone pings, and he stretches an arm out to the nightstand to pick it up. “Francesco has found the idiot who let Monika into my home. I need to teach someone a lesson.”
Raffaele moves me off him and sits up, setting his feet on the floor. He’s so comfortable with his nudity. Then again, with his fine form, his thick thighs, firm ass, and muscles in all the right places, he has every reason to feel secure. His body is incredible, but it’s more than that. It’s the way he walks into a room. His presence is so impressive, he commands any space. He’s impossible to miss.
“Uh, honey…” I try out the endearment. It doesn’t quite fit him, but it does catch his attention. “You know, this person who let her in, it could have been an honest mistake. Who knows what she told them. Don’t you think you should give them an opportunity to explain?”
“This is business, Evangeline. You don’t interfere,” he says with steely determination. “You realize that a mistake like that could have gotten me killed, or you? If I don’t make my position clear, the men will get lazy, and more mistakes will happen. I can’t have that. Our lives depend on it.”
“But—”
He plants his hands firmly on the bed, leaning forward so that we’re nose to nose. “He’ll be lucky if I don’t break every finger on the hand he used to let her in. I’m not a merciful man, and my soldiers are aware of the consequences when errors occur.”
“I’m not asking you to ignore it. Just to listen. Let the punishment fit the crime. If it was malicious intent, then break his fingers, but if he’s a young soldier and was duped, then break only one and get him better trained,” I suggest. Then I come up on my knees and wrap my arms around his thick neck. “Please, for me.”
“You’re asking too much.” He pries my arms away and goes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a solid click.
I’ve overstepped. No capo would take orders from their wife, least of all Raffaele. Sure I don’t want to be here when he comes out of the shower, I quickly grab my jeans, T-shirt, and fresh underclothes and find another bathroom to clean up in and get dressed. Peppa is probably downstairs, so I decide to join her.
I really like Peppa. She’s animated and reminds me of my Zia Filomena. Zia was a wonderful lady. Till the day she died, she always had a smile at the ready. She died too young, but she left an impression on the rest of us. Her motto was to live life, all of it. Learn from the difficult lessons, revel in the joy of good memories, and love with all you have to give. My Zio Paolo still misses her, but honors her memory by living by her motto and seeing that his family does the same.
Peppa and I are making waffles when we hear footsteps coming our way. Without even looking up from the waffle iron, Peppa says, “Good morning, piccino.” In comes Raffaele, six foot five, dressed in an impeccable dark blue suit with a burgundy, striped tie, looking nothing like the “little one” that Peppa calls him.
Raffaele gives me a sly smile and chuckles. Obviously, he has a soft spot for Peppa, and solidifies my conclusion when he pecks her cheek. “I wasn’t little even as an infant. I was born weighing over ten pounds.” Then, without missing a beat, he pulls me to his side and kisses me on the lips. “Making me breakfast?”
“Peppa is teaching me how to make waffles,” I murmur. He’s still so close, I can feel his breath on my face.
Francesco clears his throat, a very subtle way of interrupting the moment. Raffaele steps back and directs his attention to him. “He’s in the shack.”
Raffaele takes a deep breath. “It seems that breakfast must wait. Go ahead without me. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I can’t help but take a sharp intake of breath. It has never been easy for me to accept that our fathers, brothers, and uncles are all killers. Now I’m married to the king of killers.
I spare one more pleading glance his way. Everyone is entitled to make one mistake. He catches my eye, and I mouth the words, Please, for me. He turns away sharply and leaves me standing with Peppa, who takes my hand and squeezes it tightly.