Page 119 of Mafia And Maid
I close my eyes in anticipation, willing his hand to return to where I want it, needing it so desperately.
“You’re already dripping wet,” he rumbles into my ear, his tongue teasing a trail down the side of my neck as he licks and nips at the skin there.
My breath hitches as his fingers dive between my lips again and circle my clit.
I can feel the tension building from within. My panting intensifies.
And I reach behind and grab onto his thighs for support.
His forearm is grasped around my waist, so tight that I couldn’t escape even if I wanted.
One of his hands is massaging my clit with firm fingers while the other pinches and tugs at my hard nipples, making my nerve endings scream out for release.
And as a powerful orgasm rushes through me, I start screaming out and try to push his hand away.
But he refuses to stop until every last drop of my pleasure has been wrung out of me.
Gasping for air, I collapse back against him as he wraps me in his strong arms and whispers to me. “Perfect, Rosa. You’re just perfect.”
***
While Camillo helps Ethan to dress, I get things ready for breakfast. I want everything to be perfect for Marco’s birthday.
When Ethan comes down, hand in hand with Camillo, he lets out an excited squeal when he sees not only the birthday cake but also the cupcakes I’ve baked in everyone’s favorite flavor.
Camillo, however, has a different expression as he watches Alessio and Lorenzo digging in. He grunts, his lips pursed. “I get you baked for Marco since it’s his birthday and for Ethan because he’s a kid, but why did you also bake forthem?” he asks as he lasers a look at his brother and cousin and jabs a finger in their direction.
“Jealous, are you?” Alessio asks with an arched eyebrow.
“No,” he says a little too quickly.
And I can’t help but bite my lip to keep from giggling as he grumbles under his breath.
As we settle down around the table, his hand comes to rest on the top of my thigh.
“Are you going to make all our favorites on everyone’s birthdays?” Alessio asks, a hopeful look in his usually serious eyes.
“If you want, of course.”
“I’m glad I’ve got a meeting here this morning,” Lorenzo adds as he picks up another cake.
“Camillo mentioned you’d be joining us for breakfast this morning,” I say in a shy voice.
“It was really nice of you to think of me and bake my favorite flavor too,” Lorenzo smiles.
Heat creeps into my cheeks at the praise being flung my way this morning. It shouldn’t affect me like it does, but still, I can’t quite wrap my head around it. Or the fact that Ethan and I now fit so seamlessly in with them. It feels like a dream I haven’t woken up from—one I’m not certain I want to.
Camillo’s warm hand cups my face, turning me toward him despite the presence of his family. The heat crawling up my neck is only partly because of embarrassment. His dark eyes search mine as if he can see straight down to the broken shambles of my soul. I squirm a little beside him, uncomfortable with the idea of him seeing how broken I really am inside.
I know he won’t judge me, but what I am is unfixable, and I want to hide that part of me a little longer. He’s seen too far down as it is.
“I still can’t believe you made us cupcakes too,” Alessio says around a mouthful of cake. “You spoil us, Rosa.”
“What’s all this?” Marco’s voice cuts through our chatter.
“Happy birthday!” Ethan pipes up, scampering around the table to give Marco a shy hug.
“Thanks, buddy,” he says.