Page 18 of Mafia’s Fake Bride

She unzipped his pants after she pulled his belt free, and then, slowly, pulled down his zipper. His pants were weighted down with his phone and wallet so they slid down his legs instantly. He had on black boxers beneath and she slid those down his legs. He stepped out of all of it and unbuttoned his shirt while she slid her hands up his legs and along his flat abdomen, everywhere but the one place he wanted her to touch him.

He’d never been embarrassed about his genitals and didn’t feel any shame now as her eyes went wide before they narrowed once again. She was pleased, good.

He was about to fling the shirt away when she grasped at his testicles, gently, as if she knew they were delicate. He didn’t know what she knew about sex or a man’s body but assumed she was innocent of most things. He let her follow her own path for now, though this was meant to be a lesson. She hadn’t hurt him and wanted only to explore him at the moment. There was nothing wrong with that.

Her fingers followed along the edges of the powerful muscles of his thighs again, around the back to grasp at his rock-hard ass. He thrust his hips at her playfully, just enough to show her that his dick, that part of him that jutted out towards her so eagerly, was the part that really mattered. She ran a nail down the round curve of his ass and down the back of his thigh.

Something about it took his breath away. It wasn’t that she was taking control, it was that she was exploring, testing out how sensations made him relax. His pleasure mattered to her, and that was… hot.

“What do you want me to do, Matteo?” she asked as she put her hands back into her lap and looked up at him. Her lips were slightly parted, and he could see the edge of her tongue. That’s what he wanted, that slick, tiny tongue of hers sucking at his dick, licking him, but he wanted her to explore him at the same time.

“Whatever you want to do, for now, Marie.” He leaned back against the door, relaxed into it, as her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

She pulled her bottom lip in, bit down at it gently. It was something every woman did, but when she did it, it made his heart skip a beat with excitement.

He hissed in a breath of anticipation when she reached for him with her right hand, tentative, but sure too. She’d had some late-night practice to learn how he liked to be touched, hadn’t she? She thought he’d been asleep, but he’d been awake for… most of it. The part that mattered. He could still remember the way she breathed against his head, the way it came quickly as her arousal grew with his.

Now, he waited, fascinated as she stroked him, her eyes watchful. He didn’t push her, but he was going to come in her hands again if she didn’t take him into her mouth soon. At this rate, though, he might come the minute she wrapped her lips around his dick. “Fuck.”

It came out as a groan that he couldn’t stop. He had to get control back before he slipped over the edge too fast. He dug his heels into the floor and clenched his fists against the door. He looked away from her, his jaw hard and his teeth clenched

She responded by leaning into him, her full lips parted, ready with just the tip of her tongue on show. He couldn’t help it, he had to look, had to watch as she moved over him. He had to watch this first time she took him between those lips of hers, had to watch her swallow him. It was a battle not to thrust his hips into her face, not to just take what he wanted, hold her still as he fucked her face, but he held himself back, somehow.

He almost blew when her hot, wet lips pressed into the head of his cock, tentatively. She licked him, and that nearly undid him all over again. He would need a dental appointment when this was done, he was going to grind his teeth into dust, he just knew it. But he held it together as she took the base of him in her hand and then moved… down. She only got about halfway down before he hit the back of her throat.

“Swallow, Marie. Pretend you’re swallowing me,” he urged her, his hands now on her hair, but it was to hold her head and to guide her slowly. His fingers clutched into the silky strands with gentle care, even though he wanted to tangle his fingers instead, wanted to force his way deeper. He couldn’t though, not with her. She was too precious for that.

She hummed against him, tried to swallow but couldn’t. She’d get the hang of it, eventually. For now, he moved his hand over hers to show her how to touch him. She found a way to please him then, with her mouth and her hand, both used in time together, to take him down into a world of slick silky sex. He forgot to breathe, forgot what it was like to know his own name, as she sucked, licked, stroked him into a new kind of heaven - a heaven she made only for him.

He’d promise her the world, anything she wanted, by the time he found himself too weak to hold back anymore. He’d tried, he’d tried so hard, but he couldn’t help himself when she sucked the tip of his cock like she’d never tasted something that fucking good and wanted every drop of it. He exploded into her mouth without warning, and she drank down every drop of him without complaint. He rocked into her mouth, over and over, lost to her.

He needed her as he’d never needed anyone else before in his life. He could admit that to himself. He needed Marie like he needed air, which was one of the reasons he wanted to own her. If she was his, then nobody could steal her away from him. He could please her, make sure she never wanted anyone but him, as long as she was his.

He sank down against the door, his eyes on hers. She still knelt on the floor, her eyes bright with arousal, with her need for him. His clothes were strewn on the floor, his shoes somewhere, and all he had on was an unbuttoned shirt. He was completely debauched, but there she sat, as pure and clean as she’d been the first moment he fucked her.

Later, he’d leave her in a sweaty mess of her own juices, but for now, he wanted only to hold her. She didn’t ask questions, she didn’t press him for reassurances, she just went into his arms and sank into his body the way he needed her to do. She was his, and they both knew it. That was all that mattered for now. All that he could give her. For now.

11

So many firsts, Marie thought, as she stepped into the limousine at the airport. Her first Christmas away from home, her first ride in a limousine, and her first flight. They’d flown directly from New Orleans to New York on a private jet, also a first. She still had a first, then, for the future. A commercial flight would have taken too long, Matteo had told her, so she still had something to look forward to, eventually.

She tried not to gape out of the window at the sights as they drove away from the airport and into the city. Matteo had an apartment… somewhere. She had no idea what was what in this huge city. New Orleans sprawled along with narrow streets and traffic lights on the side of the road, rather than hanging overhead as they did here.

There was more noise here, more people, more everything. It was almost… frightening. Matteo had warned her: this was a noisy place that was always in motion. At the time, she hadn’t thought anyplace could be noisier than Baton Rouge or New Orleans, but she’d never been to New York. Well, now she had, and it was a little more than overwhelming.

He took her hand as they pulled up to a brick apartment building and a doorman stepped out to open their doors. Yeah, it was that kind of place. She took a deep breath before she stepped out of the car and waited for Matteo to join her. He came around the car while the doorman took out their bags and stacked them on a trolley.

“You alright?” he asked and placed his left palm against the small of her back.

That touch grounded her, brought her back from the edge of panic she’d been headed towards. She smiled at him with reassurance and nodded. “I’m good.”

“Good. Follow me, Mrs. Mazza.” His voice was low as he spoke, amused. He walked her into the building and to an elevator. A punch of a finger and the very top button lit up.

All that way up, she thought with a glance at him. His face was impassive as if he had no thoughts in his head at all. She knew he must be worried that she might embarrass him in some way, but she was trying very hard to take all of this in her stride. She’d known luxury existed, known the there were people in this world that had no worries about money. She didn’t believe, not for one minute, that she’d ever get to have such a moment of such peace.

As the bell dinged and he ushered her out of the elevator, Marie looked around. She had on a pair of black leggings, a long black sweater that came down to her knees, and a pair of leather boots that came up to those same knees; the labels inside each one a suitable label for a place with so much opulence.

It was tastefully done in glass, white objects, and furniture of white leather. Earth tones warmed it up with a brown throw pillow here, a tan one there, a rusty red cover, and a few copper vases on each side of the television screen that was bigger than any TV she’d ever seen. And this was just the living room.