The Mafia King’s Doll

Franco

Watching Samantha open box after box is a sight to behold.All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

When the men offloaded the truck, she was so happy she actually clapped her hands.

“Ohhhh, this is my grandmother’s hand mirror. She got it from her grandmother,” she says with nostalgia coating her words.

We’re sitting in the middle of the foyer with her belongings scattered around us. From the looks of things, it will take us a couple of days to unpack and find a spot for everything.

She pulls a framed photo from the box and hands it to me so I can see. “This was taken on my first day of school.”

I look at the little girl, who’s the cutest child I’ve ever seen. “Why do you have three ponytails?”

She shrugs. “Back then, I thought it looked pretty.”

When she takes a shoebox out, she grins at me. “Oooh, all the love letters I received.”

“Give that to me.” I grab it from her before she can hold it out of my reach, and taking the lid off, I open the first piece of paper. “Your hair looks like candyfloss?” I let out a chuckle.

“Don’t laugh. Pete was serious. He even tried putting my pigtail in his mouth.”

I open up another one. “If I give you a Hershey’s bar, will you go steady with me?”

Samantha grins at me. “I told him I wanted a Hershey’s bar once a week. It didn’t last long.”

I shake my head. “I think it’s cute that you kept them all.”

“Look at this one.” She leans forward and searches through the letters until she finds the right one. Opening it, she points to where the letter ends with the words in dots.

“I’m running out of ink, but I’ll write again when I get a new pen.” “That’s my favorite.”

As we keep working through the boxes, I learn Samantha had a happy childhood.

And, she never throws anything away.

“Time for a break. We can continue tomorrow.” Getting up off the floor, I stretch my body before holding my hand out to help Samantha to her feet.

I head to the kitchen and ask, “Want some coffee?” “Yes, please.”

She watches as I pour two cups, and when I hand her one, she asks, “Can we sit on the veranda?”

“Sure.”

I follow her past the mess in the foyer, and as we head through the living room toward the sliding doors, I see the men scatter in every direction.

“They don’t have to do that,” Samantha says. “I’ll never get used to them if they keep hiding whenever I come outside.”

She sits down on one of the chairs. “Tell them to come back.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Marcello’s number. “Yes, boss?”

“Tell everyone they don’t have to clear out when they see Samantha.” “On it.”

She sips on her coffee as the men resume their places, and not long after, Marcello walks toward us.

“I thought I’d check your hand while you’re out here,” he says, placing the first aid kit on the table.

“Sure.”

When he removes the bandage, I notice she doesn’t cringe. “I’m going to remove the stitches,” he says.

A smile curves her lips. “Today is turning out to be a pretty good day.”

I watch as Marcello removes the stitches, and when he’s done, she says, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I take hold of Samantha’s hand and inspect the scars before pressing a kiss to her palm.

“All better,” she sighs as she relaxes in the chair.

While her attention is on the garden, I stare at her and whisper, “Christ, you’re beautiful.”

She turns her head to meet my eyes. “I’m glad you think so.” “I know so.”

We’re quiet for a moment, then she asks, “What’s your favorite memory from your childhood?”

I think for a moment before I answer, “The day I met Renzo. We took one look at each other and decided we were best friends.”

A soft smile plays around her mouth. “How old were you?” “Eleven.”

“Wow, twenty-four years is a long time.”

I nod, and letting out a chuckle, I say, “The fucker told everyone you called me your mystery man. I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

Samantha bursts out laughing. “Why did you tell him?”

“I knew he’d get a kick out of it.”

A frown forms on her forehead. “You don’t go to Paradiso anymore.”

“I went there to keep busy, but now that I have you, I don’t need to fill my days with work.”

She gets up, and taking my hand, she nods to the sliding doors. Rising to my feet, we head into the mansion.

Once we’re taking the stairs up to the third floor, and there’s no one in hearing distance, she asks, “Want to take a shower with me?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

When we enter the bathroom, I turn on the faucets before watching my woman strip out of her clothes.

She lifts an eyebrow at me as she unhooks her bra. “Are you going to shower in the suit?”

I pull the gun from behind my back and set it on the counter before I undress.

Stepping beneath the warm spray, I pull Samantha against my body, and enjoy the feel of her naked body against mine.

“This is nice,” she sighs. “It is.”

Bringing her hands to my chest, her palms slide over my skin. “I have a confession.”

“Yeah?”

She grins up at me. “I’m obsessed with your body.”

Gripping her ass, I pull her closer again. I lower my head and brush my lips against hers before saying, “And I’m obsessed with yours. What are we going to do about it?”

Her teeth tug at my bottom lip. “I can think of a couple of things.”

Before I can claim her mouth, she kisses her way down my chest. When my woman kneels in front of me, it does something to my heart.

She wraps her fingers around my cock, and with her eyes locked on mine, she sucks me deep into her mouth.

I spread my legs further apart and grip hold of her wet strands.

Samantha keeps the pace slow, her tongue flicking over the swollen head that’s already giving her a taste of precum.

“Harder,” I demand. “I want to feel your teeth.”

My woman obeys, and as her teeth scrape over my cock, I let out a satisfied groan.

She moves her hands to my ass and digs her nails into my skin before she takes me deeper.

“Fuck, baby. Yes,” I growl, my eyes locked on her sinful mouth wrapped around my cock. “So fucking sexy.”

I bring my other hand to her lips and pull at her bottom lip as she takes me to the back of her throat.

Seeing her eyes tear and hearing her gag, I begin to thrust, and as I feel her throat clamp around the head of my cock, I growl, “Drink every last drop.”

My woman obeys as my cock begins to jerk, and I clench my jaw from the pleasure coursing through my body.

Pulling out of her mouth, I wait for her to climb to her feet before I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and slam my mouth to hers.

When I taste myself on her tongue, I lose complete control. I lift her against my body, and she barely has time to wrap her legs around me before I enter her with a hard thrust.

I fucking devour her mouth while I grow harder inside her.

Samantha squirms on my cock, silently begging me to move.

Smirking, I break the kiss and ask, “Do you need me to fuck you, baby?”

“Yes,” she moans, squirming again.

I grip her ass with one hand, and bracing my other against the tiled wall, I begin to hammer into her, my pace relentlessly hard.

With her arms wrapped around my neck, and her lips brushing against mine, I inhale her sobs and moans as she takes every punishing thrust.

It doesn’t take long before she tilts her head back, and her body begins to convulse in my hold.

“That’s it, baby. Come on my cock. Show me how much you love it when I fuck you.”

She shatters, and with whimpers falling over her lips, she orgasms so fucking hard, it makes my own release strike like a lightning bolt.

We cling to each other as our pleasure shudders through us, and I swear, it feels as if our souls become one.