by Nikki Chase
I gulp down my drink and grab an ice cube before I tell Grace to set the glass back down on the table. Her ass feels so fucking good on my cock, and I almost want to plunge right into her tight pussy right this moment. But I have to be patient. This is all about her.
Nibbling on Grace’s earlobe, I hold the ice cube over her, letting the freezing water drip onto her skin. She gasps and wiggles deliciously on me, her tits jiggling as she moves.
Running the ice cube from her collarbone down to her belly button, I watch as fine goosebumps rise all over her skin. She’s truly in the moment now, all her worries about the future forgotten.
Her full lips part, letting her little moans escape. She’s given herself completely to me now; I don’t need to restrain her. So with my free hand, I turn her head to the side, just enough so I can lick her lips and claim her mouth as mine.
Grace tastes just as sweet as I remember, her lips so juicy and delicate. I crush my lips against hers, kissing her with bruising force. “That’s a taste of what’s coming, kitten. Tonight, I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll feel me for days.”
I slide her panties aside. Grace’s moan when I touch her pussy sounds like music to my ears. She’s so slick with wetness I can hear my fingers sliding over her lips. I touch the half-melted ice cub over her and feel her shiver on top of me.
“Oh,” she moans.
“You like that?” I growl.
“Yes, Sir.”
Fuck, I can’t stand this much longer. Raising my soaked fingers to my lips, I taste her arousal and regret it immediately. It only makes the ache in my cock more intense.
I can’t wait to taste her again. But it’ll have to wait.
Bringing my fingers back down between her legs, I slip them inside her. The sight of her spreading her legs wide for me and wiggling to take me deeper almost breaks me. “Fuck, kitten. You’re so fucking sexy.”
Pressing the pad of my thumb on the hood of her clit, I make circular motions. Her muscles clench around my two fingers that are inside her, gripping me like she doesn’t want to let go.
I rub the front of her pussy wall and smile as she throws her arm behind her, clutching at the back of my neck with her small, delicate hand. Her forehead creases in concentration.
I can feel Grace tensing up. And then, it happens. Her naked body shudders as she bites her lips. Still, hot little moans escape her lips.
Keeping the same pressure and momentum, my fingers dance between her legs, even as her body goes limp. Grace pulls her legs together and grabs at my hand, pushing me away.
Just as she wants, I pull my soaked digits out of her pussy. Watching her slump over me, I smack her lips with my palm. “You don’t get to push me away, kitten. You can ask me to slow down, but it’s up to me whether I grant your request or not. And you need to keep your legs open unless I tell you otherwise. Understand?”
Panting for breath, Grace parts her legs. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl,” I whisper in her ear. “You see, even if it hurts, you’re mine. You don’t want me to stop or walk away—not really. So you see how I know we belong together?
“Deep down, you know it too. Even if things aren’t perfect, even if some things go wrong, you’d rather stick around despite the pain. Even the pain feels good. Because it’s you and me.”
BDSM has always appealed to me, but only in theory—until Grace came along. I thought the tens of thousands of dollars that I’d paid the club to join them was a waste, but when I left the city, I forgot to cancel my membership.
And that was fate too. Because if I weren’t there that night, I wouldn’t have met Grace. And Jack wouldn’t have come into the world.
With reluctance, I tear my hands off Grace’s silky skin. She can probably feel my hear beating against her back. Everything hangs on how she responds to what I do next.
“I’m not holding you down, kitten,” I say, fighting the urge to run my hands all over her. “But you’re not walking away. You know why?”
Grace shakes her beautiful head. Her cheeks are flushed from the orgasm, and she still yearns for more—I can tell. “No, Sir.”
“Because you’re mine. And if you weren’t too stubborn to admit it, you’d see it too.”
Grace bites down on her bottom lip. “Sir . . .”
“Yes, kitten?”
“Can I see you, please?”
I yank her blindfold off. “You’ve been a good girl, and you deserve a reward.”
Grace turns around to face me, straddling my lap. She sighs heavily when I grab her ass with both hands. I can’t fucking wait to explore every inch of her body. I’ll even pop her anal cherry one of these days.
Grace exclaims and lifts her ass up off my lap when I touch her asshole. She pouts. “Please, Sir. Not there.”
“Okay, not tonight. But I’ll take you there too. You know why?”
Grace’s hair caresses my skin as she shakes her from side to side.
“Because this ass—” I grab her ass cheeks “—is mine too. Every part of you is mine. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
My cock strains against my pants. I can’t fucking take this torture anymore. I think Grace gets the point I wanted to make now. “You’re going to get my pants dirty if you keep grinding on me like that.”
Slowly, deliberately, Grace glances down at my crotch where a wet patch has formed over my erection. “Oh, no. I’m sorry, Sir. How can I make it up to you?”
“Take my cock out, and I’ll show you,” I growl. This innocent act she’s putting on makes me want to pin her down and fuck her hard and fast.
But this is not about what I can take from her. It’s about her giving me what I already know is mine.
My cock fucking jumps at her touch as though it’s never been touched by female hands before. I watch, unblinking, as Grace lifts herself up over my lap, then sinks herself down onto my cock, putting her body weight where our bodies meet. She’s tight, but she’s also so wet her pussy slides smoothly over my cock, fitting around me like a snug, warm sheath made just for me.
For one perfect moment, the clock seems to stop. Grace’s jaw drops open. Her eyes squeeze shut. Her eyebrows knit together. Her moan is silenced when I bottom out, knocking the wind out of her lungs.
“You’re so big, Sir,” she sighs. As Grace grinds herself back and forth on top of me, I rest my knuckles over my pubic bone, pressing it against her clit. She picks up her pace, wrapping her arms around me as she frantically chases her orgasm.
She’s close. I can tell by the way her pussy is choking me. Every time she impales herself on me, I can feel the tight muscles around her entrance sliding over me.
“You’re not coming yet,” I tell her as I grab her waist.
Before she can ask me why, I turn and push her onto her back on the couch. Her hair fans out underneath her like a crown, with stray stands sticking to her sweaty forehead.
I take a fistful of her hair and fucks into her deep. “I can fuck you harder like this,” I growl, using my cock as punishment as I stab into her.
Grace’s hands clutch at my back, her nails dragging down my skin. “Oh my God.”
“Whose pussy is this?” I ask, rubbing her clit with my finger as her moans grow higher in pitch.
“Yours, Sir,” she says.
“Does it belong to anyone else?”
“No, Sir. You’re the only one. You own my pussy,” she says feverishly, her hips raising up off the couch to meet my thrusts.
“Why is that?”
Grace frowns in concentration, looking as though she’s thinking hard.
When no words come out of her open mouth, I pull her hair. “Tell me why your pussy is mine.”
“Because . . . Because everything belongs to you, Sir.”
“Good answer, kitten,” I whisper.
Letting go of her hair, I grip her hips and pull her onto my cock as I thrust, again and again, driving us both to the brink of madness.
Grace looks beautiful. So f
ucking sexy.
Her tits rock up and down to the rhythm of my fucking, her face frozen in lustful concentration. She clutches at my forearms when she goes over the edge, losing control of her own body as she turns into a shuddering heap of orgasms.
I’ve never seen anything hotter. I’ve never felt more powerful. I explode in a violent orgasm, my cock pulsing deep inside her, filling her with my cum.
If I’m lucky, maybe Grace will get pregnant again. And this time, I intend to be there to watch my child grow up.
We have time. Now that Grace is mine, we have time.
I lay my head down beside her and breathe in the scent of her hair. I whisper in her ear, “Tell me you’re coming home with me, kitten.”
All I can hear is our breaths as we lie together with limbs entangled. My heart pounds against her side. The mother of my child.
I’m a father. The knowledge fills me with joy and trepidation. I’m responsible for a little man’s well-being. Me.
I’ll be the best fucking father I can be; that much I know. I’ll do anything to be a man worthy of this little family. I can see the three of us at home, Jack running to the front door when I come home from work while Grace is working on dinner.
“Tell me you’re coming home with me,” I repeat. Now that I’ve gotten a taste of how good things can be, I’m never letting them go.
To my relief, Grace nods. “I’m coming home with you. But give me some time.”
I pull her into my arms as my lips curve up into a smile. I’ve never known life to be this happy. “I love you, kitten.”
Grace
“I love you, kitten,” Matteo said last night with his dick still buried in my pussy and his cum leaking out of me.
After that grand declaration, I closed my eyes and pretended I was so exhausted I couldn’t keep a conversation flowing.
Cowardly, I know. I should’ve said something . . . but what?
My heart thumps inside my rib cage. I can’t deny the feelings wreaking havoc in my chest, but everything’s moving so fast my head’s spinning.
I force my eyes to focus on the screen of my laptop. I’m supposed to be working on an e-book cover, and I have the file open in a window, but it’s at the bottom of the stack. What I’m actually staring at is an articles in a parenting website.
In red font, the title reads “5 Ground Rules for Introducing Your Child to Someone Special.”
I’ve strained my eyes so hard they’re starting to water. Having gone through about ten pages of search results on Google, I’m still nowhere closer to the truth.
This is a subject rife with controversy—it’s pretty much up there with breastfeeding and sex education.
Everybody’s got an opinion. But nobody’s got real, solid answers.
Wilma, for example, a columnist with blonde waves and bright blue eyes, staring at me with judgment from her little bio box, says that she waits for at least one year before deeming a relationship stable enough for her children to even be aware of her boyfriend’s existence.
On another website, a redhead, named Autumn, says she introduces her “special friends” to her kids right away but always in casual settings.
“It’s just like meeting other kids’ parents in the park. The kids can get to know my grown-up friend a little bit and then go home without ever getting upset that they’ll never see that particular friend again.” According to Autumn, these casual introductions provide the perfect low-stakes environment to figure out whether the new boyfriend meshes with the kids.
But no matter how many articles I read, I can’t figure out what to do. Why can’t someone write an article like “So You Got Knocked Up by a Mobster: What to Do After Faking Your Own Death”? It’s kind of a niche audience, for sure, but daughters of mobsters need advice too.
God, I can’t work like this. Slamming my laptop shut, I get up and stretch, then head to the kitchen. At the very least, I need my coffee.
I tiptoe past the living room where Matteo is still asleep on the couch.
That must be breaking one of those “5 Ground Rules,” I’m sure. I didn’t even plan it when Matteo and Jack first met. I didn’t strive for “a fun, no-pressure atmosphere.” And I certainly didn’t try to explain to Jack in a “mature, non-threatening way” that Matteo was spending the night.
How badly have I screwed up?
And would going home with Matteo be yet another mistake?
Making as little noise as possible, I pour fragrant grounds into the filter and turn on the coffee maker. I wince as it whirrs to life and throw a glance at Matteo.
Damn it. Despite my efforts, he’s starting to stir.
I’m so not ready for this.
Last night, after he said the L-word, Jack started crying just in time, and I rushed to his bedroom. After that, I hid in there the entire night and fell asleep in the rocking chair next to the crib.
“Morning,” a deep, masculine voice greets me. God, he sounds so sexy when he’s sleepy. Looks hot too. Makes me want to get under that blanket and jump his bones.
I rip my gaze off him and pretend like the black liquid dripping into the clear container is the most interesting thing in the world. “Morning.”
Footsteps draw near, and my ears prick up. He’s coming. “Want some coffee?”
“Sure. That smells like some really strong stuff. Strong enough to wake the dead.”
I laugh and feel my nerves melting. “Yeah, that’s my secret. Coffee as black as my soul.”
Matteo wraps his arms around my waist and kisses my shoulder. “You have the purest, most innocent soul, kitten.”
God, why does it have to feel so good to be in his embrace? He’s so warm, and he smells so good. And it must be my brain tricking me, but I feel safe in his arms. But it’s probably just because he has muscular biceps.
In reality, I’m putting myself in danger by being with him. At the same time, now that he’s found me, he’s the only one who can keep me safe.
Matteo makes a happy little sound as he tightens his embrace. “You know my family thinks I’m crazy, wasting me time looking for you. But I knew there was no way you were dead. That night when we first met, you seemed so full of life.”
“You haven’t told them you’ve found me, right?” I ask, my chest heavy.
His muscles tense up. “No. But kitten, I’ll have to tell them sooner or later. They need to know about Jack—he’s their family too. Your parents would probably be elated to find out you’re alive, and you have a son.”
When he says his next words, I can hear his smile. “My son.” He plants another kiss on my shoulder. “I can’t believe we have a son together. And he’s precious.”
“Yeah. He’s pretty amazing.” I smile. I can’t help it when I’m thinking about Jack.
Maybe this is not just about keeping the peace between two mafia families. After all, we did meet before we knew about the arranged marriage.
“You know, after that night at the club, I went home, and I got into a big argument with my dad,” Matteo says as though he can read my mind.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I had no idea why he wanted me home. He told me about the wedding, which was, like, only one month away. I’d just met this incredible girl who turned my world upside down, so I told him to call it off. I wasn’t going to do it.”
I giggle. “My dad would’ve smacked me silly for going against his order like that.”
“Oh, trust me; he was ready to hit me in the face. His face was so fucking red.” Matteo chuckles. “But I knew I couldn’t forget you, kitten. I thought I’d never be able to feel for my future wife the way I felt about you. It was the right thing to do. I didn’t care if my dad was going to explode from it. I had to see you again.”
“So you’re not just . . . You didn’t look for me because your family wanted you to?” I ask.
“No way. My dad told me I was insane. He said I was in denial. Even your family accepted your death, and I was the only one wasting my time lookin
g for you.”
That means my mom did a pretty good job acting like she was grieving.
“I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I tell him I’ve found you. And you’ve given birth to his first grandson.” Matteo pulls away and grabs two mugs, placing them on the counter.
I pour the coffee into the mugs, emotions battling in my chest. Thinking about our families scares the shit out of me.
Leveling his intense gaze at me, Matteo says, “You know this is amazing. I can’t wait to spend every morning just like this, waking up to see your face first thing and having coffee with you.”
Meeting Matteo’s gaze, I give him a smile. He may just be worth dealing with our insane families. With him around, I don’t feel so alone anymore. Now that he’s here, someone’s got my back. If I can’t deal with something, he’s here to cushion my fall.
“What?” he asks, a cocky smile on his handsome face as he picks up his mug.
I take a sip of the steaming hot coffee. “That sounds good to me.”
The coffee pours down my throat, but that’s not what’s making my chest feel all warm and fuzzy. Time comes to a standstill as our eyes lock, and we come to a silent agreement. We’ll do this. We’ll make it work. Not just for our families; not even for Jack. But for us.
“Mommy!” I hear a high-pitched voice from Jack’s bedroom.
“Oh, shit,” I curse as I almost spill the hot coffee on my shirt.
Matteo follows me down the hallway. When I go inside Jack’s room, he leans against the doorframe, his watchful eyes hot on my back.
I pick Jack up and put him on the floor. As he waddles toward the door, he spots Matteo and grins. “Ice cream!” he points with his index finger.
“That’s me. The ice cream man,” Matteo says, crouching down and holding his hands out as Jack walks on tiny, sleepy, unsteady feet. As Jack falls forward into Matteo’s strong arms, a lump forms in my throat.
I’ve never allowed myself to even fantasize about this moment; I thought it would never happen in my lifetime. But now that I’m seeing it with my own eyes, I realize this is all I’ve ever wanted.
Matteo smiles, his eyes darting toward me as if asking me for permission to tell his son the truth.