The Mafia King’s Doll

Samantha

Even though I’m exhausted, I can’t fall asleep.

Lying on Franco’s bed, I hug one of his pillows to my chest while I think about my life and everything that’s happened.

What will the other employees at work think when they hear I’m dating the CEO?

Probably that I slept my way to the top.

Do I care?

No. Not really.

I have to call Mom and tell her about Franco. She’s going to be over the moon.

Is Todd really gone?

How do I feel about that?

Pondering the question, I snuggle into the pillow and take a deep breath of Franco’s scent.

I hate that things turned out the way they did. If only Todd had accepted our break up.

Franco is right, though. Todd doesn’t deserve to live after everything he’s done to me. He’s a monster, and God only knows how many women he’s already hurt.

Has Franco killed him already?

I wait for the tsunami of emotions to hit, but there’s only relief at the thought that Todd won’t be able to hurt me again.

I bring my hand to my neck and wrap my fingers around the sore skin.

Todd can’t kill me.

I can finally go to Houston, so I can clear out my house and sell it.

Lying in the dark, I find closure to the nightmare that’s haunted me for over a year.

As the tears of relief come, I bury my face in the pillow and mourn the loss of everything that was stolen from me.

I hear the bedroom door open and try to rein in the tears as I see Franco come in. He walks to the bathroom, and I hear water run, then there’s the rustling of clothes.

Coming back into the room, wearing only his boxers, he climbs on the bed.

He tugs the pillow away from me before lying down and pushing his arm beneath my head. Gathering me against his chest, I hear him take a deep breath.

It feels like his body engulfs mine, and an overwhelming sense of safety surrounds me.Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

With his mouth near my ear, he whispers, “How are you holding up?”

I wrap my arm around his waist and snuggle as close to him as I can. “Surprisingly good.”

He places his hand behind my head, and I’ve never felt more treasured. “Then why the tears?”

“It’s from the relief of finally having closure,” I explain.

Franco presses a kiss to my hair. I tilt my head back, and looking at him, I notice he seems more relaxed than before he left the room to take care of business.

His eyes drift over my face, and the corner of his mouth lifts, making him look way too hot.

“Don’t ever smile like that at work,” I mutter.

He gives me a confused look. “Why?”

“Every woman at the office is already crushing on you. Seeing you smirk like that will probably start a riot.”

He lets out a chuckle, and leaning closer, he kisses me before teasing, “Just admit you’re jealous.”

I give him a disgruntled look. “No, you’re arrogant enough.” He rolls onto his back, a burst of laughter shaking his body.

I crawl over him and straddle his pelvis. I place my hands on his chest, and leaning over him, I say, “I’m not jealous.”

I’ve never seen Franco so relaxed and happy. It’s like I’m finally seeing the man beneath the suit.

“You’re jealous. There’s no shame in admitting it,” he continues to tease

me.

I shift my butt over his cock, and his expression turns from playful to

predatory in a split second.

I rub myself over him again, and watching desire darken his eyes, makes me feel sensual and beautiful.

Lifting his hands, he grips hold of my hips before he moves up the bed so he can lean back against the headboard.

“I love seeing you in my shirt,” he murmurs as he cups my breast through the fabric. “It looks sexy on you.”

My voice is seductive. “Yeah?” I undo a few buttons. “How about now?”

The smirk on his face makes arousal coat my inner thighs and my abdomen clench with need.

“I love that even more.” The words rumble from him as he leans closer to press a kiss between my breasts. He pushes the shirt to the side, then his teeth tug at my nipple. “So much more.”

Lifting my butt off him, I reach down and push his boxers out of the way to free his huge cock. Wrapping my fingers around the thick girth, I rub the head of his cock over my pussy and let out a satisfied moan.

“Fuck, baby,” he growls. “You’re so fucking wet for me.” “Soaked,” I complain. “And so achy and needy.”

I pull my hand away, and taking hold of the lapels of the shirt, I tug the fabric open and squeeze my breasts while I rub my pussy hard against his cock.

Giving him a hungry look, I purr, “Mmm…your cock is so hard and ready for me.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, a look of awe warring with his lust for me.

His palms roam my sides, and it looks like it’s taking all his willpower to keep still while I give him a show.

I lean forward and tug at his bottom lip with my teeth, then moving lower, I lick and suck at his neck while squashing my breasts to his chest.

I keep rubbing my clit over his cock, and when I feel the first flutters of my orgasm, I reach down and position him at my entrance.

Torturing myself, I take him slowly. I feel every solid inch of him stretch me.

“Jesus fucking Christ, baby. You’re going to kill me.”

“You’re so big,” I whimper when it feels like I can’t take more. I pull a little back before slamming down on his cock, and it rips a cry from me before I manage to breathe, “Jesus, Franco.”

His hands grip my hips, and I feel them tremble. Realizing he’s holding back so I can have control has me ignoring the uncomfortable pain, and I start riding him.

“Yes, baby,” he groans, then words spill over his lips. “Fuck, your pussy’s strangling me…So good…Fuck me harder…show me how badly

you want my cock.”

With every filthy word, I move faster and harder until my breasts are bouncing.

His eyes feast on them, then he praises me. “So fucking beautiful.”

I slow my movements, and swiveling my hips, I ride him slowly while I rub my clit against his pelvis.

He pulls me closer, and his mouth closes around a nipple. While he gives my breasts attention, I keep taking his cock until my body begins to convulse, and a powerful orgasm makes my clit overly sensitive.

It’s too intense, and I pull away, trying to stop the orgasm.

Suddenly, Franco throws me onto my back, and he slams hard inside me while growling, “Come, Samantha. Don’t fight it.”

My hand grips his bicep, and as he hammers into me, I have no choice in the matter, and the orgasm tears through me.

I hear myself scream, and I swear I pass out for a moment.

My body convulses while the overwhelming pleasure keeps crashing over me in waves.

I hear the sounds of our skin slapping and whimper when I can’t handle much more.

Franco changes the pace, fucking me slow and deep. I feel his hand push down between us, and when his thumb presses against my clit, my body jerks from how tender I feel.

“Shhh, baby. I’ll make it better,” Franco murmurs.

He increases the pressure on my clit, and somehow it works, and the tenderness fades away. His thumb begins to rub hard over the bundle of nerves while he continues to thrust inside me.

My eyebrows draw together when I feel my core tightening. “Oh shit,” I whisper. “I’m going to come again.”

He rubs my clit harder and faster as he begins to hammer into me, and within seconds we orgasm together, making the intimate moment a million times hotter.

As Franco falls over me, I cling to him, and with our bodies suspended in ecstasy, we shudder through our pleasure.

When I regain some strength, I wrap my legs around his ass to keep him locked to me, and I pepper his neck and shoulder with kisses.

His tone is hoarse as he breathlessly says, “You were made for me.”

Echoes of pleasure ripple through me while I caress his back, then moving my hand further down, I dig my nails into his asscheek.

“Don’t pull away yet,” I whisper. “I want to memorize what you feel like on top of me.”

He pushes his arms beneath me and holds me so tight it borders on painful.

“Mine.” The word is nothing more than a rumble of thunder. I bury my face against his neck. “Yours.”