Ruthless Mafia Daddy (Alpha Mafia Daddies)

Calloused fingers tickle my thighs, and I start to stir. I wasn’t planning on falling asleep, but the silk sheets were just too comfortable, and it seems the rigorous sex marathon wiped me out.

“You’re back?” I snuggle deeper into the pillows.

“I am.” His fingers trail up and down my bare thighs. “Did you have fun without me?”

“Mmm… You just missed all the other guys.”

Andre chuckles, and his lips brush my cheek.

“Good thing they’ve gone because I don’t like to share.”

“Now, now, no need to get possessive…” I turn to lie on my back, exposing my bare breasts.

Andre takes the silent invitation and starts teasing my right nipple with his tongue while his hand palms the other.

I groan, reaching to run my hands through his slightly damp hair.

Did I not hear him shower? I must have passed out hard.

The way Andre is worshiping my breasts has my back arching, desperate for more, heat already pooling between my thighs.

“Andre,” I sigh.

“Yes, baby?” His breath tickles my nipple.

I place my hand on his shoulder and push against him, silently asking for what I really want.

“Use your words, Lila.”

This man is infuriating.

“You know what I want.” I gasp as Andre grazes my nipple with his teeth.

“But I want to hear you say it.”

I groan, rubbing my thighs together beneath the sheets, desperate for any form of friction.

“I want your tongue between my thighs.”

“There.” He chuckles, moving to position his muscular body over mine. “That wasn’t so hard.”

I glare at his beautiful face.

“You’re an ass.”

He smirks, dark eyes filled with mischief as he takes my nipple in his mouth and sucks.

I moan as he grinds into me, his erection nudging my entrance. My head falls back as I revel in the sensations that Andre awakens in my body.

He takes his time kissing his way down my body, running his tongue along the skin of my inner thigh until I’m writhing beneath his touch.

He kisses my thigh, so damn close to where I need him that I’m practically begging for his touch.

“Andre.”

His tongue runs up my center and he sucks on my clit.

I cry out, arching off the bed as he teases my entrance with a finger as he works my clit. There’s more urgency this time, as if he’s desperate to get me off, and I’m loving every second.

His tongue is fucking magic, and the way he eats my pussy like an ice cream cone has my orgasm building even faster.

“More.”

He sinks two fingers into me, pumping them hard as he flicks his tongue over my clit.

My hips start grinding against his fingers, and Andre moans.

I look down, and his free hand is wrapped around his cock, pumping hard and fast.

A strangled noise escapes me at the sight—it’s fucking magnificent—and the thought of that cock pounding inside me has me crying out with my release.

Andre groans as I clench around his fingers and that only makes me moan louder.

I love how much he enjoys getting me off, and he continues pumping his fingers inside me as I ride out my orgasm.

“Fuck,” I sigh. “That was…”

“Mmm…” Andre slowly pulls his fingers out of me and moves to rest on his knees.

My eyes watch in awe as he takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks. “You taste incredible, Lila.”

His right knuckles have a darker taint that definitely wasn’t there before he left.

Is he hurt?

“Andre…” I gasp.

“I’m fine, baby.”

“Was that the business you had to go and deal with?” I push, feeling uneasy.

“Need to know, Lila.”

Those are the same words as before.

I shake my head.

“Are you in some sort of trouble? Because I have the right to know⁠—”

“Lila.” His eyes soften as he takes in the concern I’m sure is clear on my face. “Sometimes, you have to play a little dirty in my line of work to get the message across. It’s no big deal. I promise. Now, let me finish what I started.”

His bruised hand wraps around his erection.

I bite my lower lip, content to let the subject go. Ultimately, this is a one-night thing, so it’s none of my business.

My eyes fall to his cock, and I spread my thighs even more.

Andre gazes at my slick pussy and starts stroking himself.

The ache between my thighs is unbearable as I watch him jerk off to the sight of me.

He groans, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment before he releases himself and moves to grip my hips, flipping me over, lifting my hips so my ass is in the air. “I want to be deeper.”

I moan, burying my head in the pillow as he runs the tip of his cock along my ass before dipping between my thighs, lining himself up with my entrance.

“So fucking wet.”

“Mmm…” I wiggle my hips against his hardness.

Andre places his hands on my hips, his fingers digging in hard before he fills me with one hard thrust of his hips.

I cry out as a moment of pain turns into the sweetest pleasure as Andre immediately starts moving inside me.

“Well done, baby,” he coos. “You took that so well.”

I sink my fingers into the silk sheets, gripping them as Andre thrusts so deep that his cock grazes my uterus, and my entire body trembles with pleasure.

I can barely hold myself up, but Andre keeps my hips in place as he fucks me so hard my eyes roll.

“Fuck, Lila,” Andre groans. “Are you going to let me come all over that perfect ass?”

“Oh, yes.” I push back against him.

“Good girl.”

That sends a ripple of pleasure down my spine, and my climax builds once more.

I try to match Andre’s pace, bouncing my ass against him as he thrusts into me, his cock brushing my inner walls so deliciously that my legs start to shake.

“I-I’m coming,” I cry.

“Fuck yes, baby. Come with me.”

His movements become more frantic and hurried, and I know he’s close.

I want nothing more than to feel him spill onto my skin, to mark me as his one more time.

“Lila…” He pounds into me once more, so hard I scream as my orgasm hits me.

I clench around him, eager to send him over the edge too.

He thrusts two more times before pulling out and spilling all over my ass.

I let out a contented sigh, listening to Andre’s breathy pants as he finishes.

I think that might have just been the best sex of my entire life.

“Look at you.” His hands run over my hips.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

I glance over my shoulder to the evidence of his release on my skin. I bite my lower lip before looking up at Andre under my lashes.

There’s a faint flush to his skin, and his chest is heaving as he catches his breath.

Part of me wants to ask again where he went, what caused him to get so worked up. Because this sex was different than before. Harder, rougher.

Not that I’m complaining. It was incredible, but the shift in him didn’t go unnoticed.

It’s not my place. That’s not what I’m here for. I’m not his girlfriend, I’m not his…anything.

In a few short hours, I’ll be heading back to my apartment, and he’ll be long gone.

“I think I might need some help in the shower,” I murmur.

It’s no surprise that once again I pass out in the sheets as the moon is still high above Manhattan, snuggled next to Andre, his arms around me, keeping me warm.

His soothing heartbeat lulls me to sleep, and I hope that, come morning, perhaps this might not be over.

But when I wake not much later, the sun still not yet up, the spot beside me in the bed is empty.

“Does that man ever sleep?”

I climb out of bed to use the bathroom. As I cross the room, I pass another door.

Andre’s muffled voice comes from behind it.

I know I should just keep walking. I have no business listening in on his conversations, but curiosity gets the better of me.

What has got this man working at all hours of the night? Because he sure as hell didn’t give me an answer when we were sharing a ludicrously expensive bottle of champagne.

I hold my breath as I lean against the door to what I assume is a study and press my ear to it.

“How many times to I have to fucking tell you, Marco?”

I can tell he’s trying to keep his voice down, but there’s so much anger lacing his words.

“Dispose of it, now.”

Dispose of what?

“You only have a few hours before the sun rises.” There’s a beat of silence. “Well, it seemed to me that you needed reminding, seeing as you haven’t disposed of the fucking body yet.”

I blink, my blood running cold.

“I want Lorenzo Rossi to wake up to it on his goddamned doorstep.”

Lorenzo Rossi.

I know that name.

It was in a news article I read a few months back. I don’t remember the details, but I remember one word in the headline.

Mafia.

My feet are moving before my brain can fully catch up to what Andre is saying.

I step away, my heartbeat pounding in my ears, glancing around the bedroom.

The rustled sheets, the entire room reeking of sex. The evidence of what we did last night.

I let my body take over, moving around the bedroom in search of my clothes.

Dispose of a body.

I find my shoes and panties at the base of the bed.

I move into the living area and find my dress by the couch. Along with my purse.

Trying to stifle the strangled sob that is building in my throat, I find my phone safely tucked away inside it along with my wallet.

Without a second glance, I hurry to the private elevator and press the down button.

It’s time I get the hell out of here.

The doors ping open and I rush inside.

The bell boy goes to speak to me, but I can’t breathe.

I need to be outside. Now.

Why the hell is Andre dropping bodies on Lorenzo Rossi’s doorstep? From the sounds of it, they’re enemies, but what does that mean for Andre? Should I be grateful I’m even alive right now?

My stomach revolts, and for a second, I think I’m going to lose it.

Pulling out my phone, I ignore the dozen texts from Cassi and open up my uber app.

“Come on, come on.” I keep one eye on the little black car on the uber app as it drives up to the hotel and the other on the hotel door.

Does he know I’m gone yet? Will he come after me?

As soon as the uber gets there, I throw open the door to the car and slide inside.

Only when we’re far enough away do I look up at that wall of windows to where I know Andre will likely be standing.

“Here is fine,” I say to the driver as he pulls into my street fifteen minutes later.

I need to change out of this fucking dress, to wash away this night. But first, I need my laptop and decent internet.

As soon as I’m home, I sag against the door.

When my legs can hold me again, I go to my laptop on the small desk in front of the window.

I toss my shoes and purse onto my bed and take a seat, my fingers trembling as I type in my password.

I could just leave this at the door, literally.

Andre has no idea where I live, and I can let the memory of our night together be just that. A memory.

But my fingers are typing into Google before I can talk myself out of it.

Andre De Luca and Lorenzo Rossi.

I hold my breath as the page loads, an image of Andre’s handsome face appearing immediately. I try to ignore the dark eyes, the strong jaw, the perfect hair as I click the image and glance at the description beneath it.

My heart turns to ice as I read the words.

Fuck.

My stomach sinks.

I just slept with the don of the De Luca mafia.