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“That’s right, princessa,” I say, my tone mocking as I use the name the mafia would use for her. “Come for me.”
“Fuck,” she moans, her hips bucking as I drive my fingers deeper into her, massaging her inner walls.
When I replace my fingers with my cock, her legs wrap around my waist. I grin as I bite and suck my way down her neck to her breasts, pulling a nipple into my mouth and sucking hard while I massage the other one.
Aria meets me thrust for thrust, not bothered by the rapid pace. Based on how wet she is, she’s enjoying not being treated like a fragile object for what I suspect is the first time in her life.
“You like my cock?” I ask, pulling her earlobe between my teeth until she whimpers and nods. “Come all over it.”
She cries out as her inner walls milk my cock. I’m pulsing inside of her and it only takes another hard thrust until my release rushes through my body.
“Fuck,” Aria says as she props herself up on her forearms. She looks down at my cock and licks her bottom lip. “I’m going to need more of that.”
“Meet me in the shower and we might be able to do something about that,” I say, leaving her sprawled on my bed as I head for the shower.
Shortly after, I’ve stepped into the stream of hot water. She joins me and sinks to her knees in front of me.
I don’t know how I’m going to look at her the same way after tonight, but if I’m making mistakes, I may as well keep making them until the sun comes up.
3
ARIA
Tyson is snoring when I grab my dress and heels, pulling them on by the light of the early morning sun streaming through the window.
There’s a delicious ache between my legs as I sneak out of his house and call for a ride. The man who picks me up says nothing, but I’m guessing my father already knows I’ve been out all night. If the hard set of the man’s jaw is anything to go by, my father knows who I’ve been with as well.
This is going to be bad.
I spend the entire drive back to my family’s estate trying to think of a logical explanation for why I spent most of the night with an FBI agent’s cock inside me. My father wouldn’t like any answer I came up with. His suspicion levels will be high and there is a chance that he will lash out.
It isn’t anything that I haven’t dealt with before, but I'm not looking forward to dealing with it again. Despite his soft spot for me, my father can be brutal with his anger.
That same anger is the very trait that’s starting to bring about the downfall of his precious organization. I’ve heard his consigliere talking about a potential uprising among the capos. I’ve seen a few men questioned and killed for answers my father found unsatisfactory.
“He’s waiting for you,” Mom says as the car comes to a stop and my door opens. “What were you thinking, Aria?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, feigning ignorance. For now, ignorance is my only defense.
“That’s probably the best story for you to stick to,” Mom says as I climb the stairs.
Dad appears in the doorway of his study, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyebrows are pulled together and the fine lines around his mouth are more prominent than normal.
“Can this wait until after I’ve had a shower?” I ask, my voice sweet as I give him my best smile. “I think I partied a little too hard last night with some of the girls and I woke up smelling like the club still.”
“You know I don’t like it when you stay out all night,” Dad says as he looks me over before nodding. “Get showered and appropriately dressed and then meet me in my office. We have much to discuss about your activities last night, and I do not wish to be kept waiting.”
I nod before taking off up the stairs two at a time before he can change his mind.
As I shower, I try to do everything I can to stop thinking about the tattooed FBI agent who gave me multiple orgasms last night. Sleeping with him was a mistake, even if it was everything I thought sleeping with an older man would be.
He isn’t like the two other men I’ve slept with. Not only is he a good ten years older, but he also knows his way around the female body. The things he can do with only his tongue has me begging for more even when it hurts to walk.
I shake the memories of Tyson Wilson from my mind as I crank the heat up on my shower and scrub the scent of his cologne from my skin. I don’t need any reminders of the way I’ve just betrayed my father.
I’m sure that he’s going to remind me of all the ways when I meet with him in a few minutes.
When I walk into his office after getting dressed, my father is sitting behind his desk. The tattoos that wind their way up his arms are on full display and there’s a gun sitting on his desk. I eye the gun, wondering what stunt he’s going to pull.
