Page 29 of Unspoken Ties

“I suppose I’d be a terrible husband if I left you in this state.” He pressed a chaste kiss to my lips,

“You would,” I whimpered into his lips.

He responded by taking one finger and ghosting it over my clothed core. Just his featherlight touch set off more fireworks in my body than when I had tried to do it myself.

With nimble fingers, he slid off my pajama pants and panties. The cool night breeze brushed against my bare skin, a shock of reality that I was standing before him completely exposed. My cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire, but as his thumb grazed over my sensitive clit, all hesitation disappeared.

“Oh!” I whined, bucking into his hand.

He chuckled, and continued to leisurely roll his thumb along my swollen bud. Pleasure continued to bloom from my lower half, causing my body to arch and pulse with each touch. My skin felt electrified, as if every nerve ending was alight with ecstasy. It was a feeling I never wanted to end.

I didn’t think it could get any better until he slipped a finger inside of me. It was strange at first - I had never tried putting mine in there before, so the feeling was foreign. But after a few pumps, I was addicted.

I was shameless. I whined and begged Ettore for more, and he gave it to me. The all-consuming pleasure starting changing shape. It started to feel weird. It was as if a great storm was gathering in my belly, the roiling waves of pleasure escalating to something far too vast and terrifying. I gasped, the sensation so overwhelming it was almost too much to bear.

“Et-Ettore, I think we should stop,” I panted, twisting my hips away from him. “It feels strange.”

He chuckled in amusement, smoothing a piece of my hair back into place. “That’s part of it, Princess. Just lean into it.”

I wanted to ask him if he was sure, but before I could, a pleasure I had never known hit me like a tidal wave. I screamed Ettore’s name as what felt like a thousand volts of electricity surged throughout my body, starting from the intimate place where his fingers were buried and spreading outwards to the ends of my limbs.

My body convulsed, hips instinctively bucking against his hand as a powerful orgasm washed over me. I could feel it everywhere - in the shuddering tremor of my legs, in the erratic pounding of my heart against my ribcage, even in the very ends of my hair which stood on end from the sheer force of what was happening to me.

Ettore watched me in awe, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction as he witnessed the aftershocks rippling through me. He kept his fingers in place, subtly prolonging my pleasure until I was sure I would burst from the sheer intensity of it all.

“Good girl,” he murmured, capturing my lips in a kiss. “You did so well.”

I didn’t even have the energy to respond; my body now felt like it was made of lead. All I could do was cling to him, burying my face into his chest as I tried to catch my breath.

Chapter fourteen

Ettore

Giving Liria her first orgasm was both a blessing and a curse. Her face as she came for the first time was the hottest thing I had ever seen, and it would forever be carved into my memory. The downside was, every time I looked at her the image came to mind, and I would instantly get hard.

It had only been a few days, but Liria hadn’t initiated anything else. At least once a day my seed was washed downed the shower drain or dispensed into a tissue. It was agonizing, and I longed for the day when I’d be able to come into Liria instead of taking care of it with my own hand.

Today I had to get my shit together and worry about taking care of the business Leone left behind, and not how hot his daughter was.

After the meeting with Raffaele, word had spread amongst his old associates that I was in charge, and from what I understood, it was pretty well received. Today I was meeting with another man who was still on the fence, and much like Raffaele, he played a very important part in the Mafia’s economy.

The meeting was to be held at a small winery two hours away from the city. It was owned by Paulo Santos, a silent giant in the tobacco business who supplied Leone’s operation with high-quality cigars.

If I could get him on my side, things would run smoother. The Moretti family dabbled in marijuana, but tobacco was a new product for us.

The drive to the winery was a long, silent one. My mind was filled with strategies and arguments, stats and figures dancing in my head. I had to convince Paulo, and moreover, I had to prove to myself that I was capable of this task. I reached the winery about ten pm, a vast expanse of vineyards stretched out before me.

I drove up to the entrance, nodding at each security guard I passed. When I reached the front, a valet greeted me and took my car.

As I approached the entrance, the winding road leading up to it was lined with meticulously manicured trees and shrubs. The security guards stationed at intervals watched me carefully, their suits crisp and polished. Each one nodded in acknowledgement as I passed by. Finally, I reached the grand entrance, where a valet in a sharp suit greeted me. He quickly took my car and I made my way into the winery.

While waiting for my audience with Paulo, I wandered around the grand hall. Portraits of past generations of the Santos family adorned the walls. I marveled at their imposing presence and stern faces, a testament to their legacy in this dangerous world we inhabited.

Eventually, a maid shepherded me down the hallway and into an office. Paulo Santos was seated behind the desk, his deep-set eyes watching me with reserved intrigue as he puffed on one of his famous cigars.

“Ah, Mr. Moretti,” he greeted in a gravelly voice that echoed around the room. “Welcome. I hope you found your journey here agreeable?”

“Smooth as silk,” I responded, forcing my attention away from thoughts of Liria and back to business.