Page 74 of Bellini Born

Willingly agreeing to become the mafia don’s whore before allowing him to ride my face.

Some kind of strange promise about becoming his queen.

If I weren’t naked in the man’s bed and sore as hell between my thighs, I might have believed it all to have been a dream.

As far as night outs went, it was a doozy. And I didn’t regret a single minute.

The silk of the bedding caressed my bare skin as I slipped out from beneath it, swinging my feet around the edge before standing.

My stomach rumbled as my gaze darted around the room, searching for my dress because even though our rooms were side by side, I wasn’t about to risk the short trek in my birthday suit. Not with the girls being right across the hall and having no clue what time it was.

When I came up empty, I mentally saidfuck it, and waltzed into Matteo’s walk-in closet like I had every right to help myself to his clothes.

As I stepped into the smaller room, his scent washed over me, and I paused, inhaling deeply. The man smelled like sin and fucked like a god. Already, I was jonesing for an encore.

I bypassed the racks of suits, grabbing a black T-shirt off a nearby shelf. The fabric fell to my knees, providing enough coverage to venture into the hallway. Padding silently to the door, I cracked it open and stuck my head out to check that the coast was clear. When my favorite four-year-old was nowhere to be seen, I raced toward my room, shutting myself inside.

With my back against the door, I willed my racing heart to settle. If Matteo and I slept together again, I would need to insist on returning to my own bed afterward. We’d gotten lucky this time, but more often than not, Bianca snuck into my room before dawn.

I hated the idea of sneaking around, but the last thing I wanted to do was confuse the little girl. She’d already lost her mother, and I didn’t want to give her false hope that I would be filling that role if she found me in bed with her father. It would be better for everyone involved if we didn’t have to explain that banging her daddy didn’t automatically make me her new mommy.

If you wanted to avoid those awkward conversations, you probably shouldn’t be getting involved with the guy paying you to watch his children.

Yeah, too little, too late for that. What’s done was done. And maybe it made me a bad person, but I was ready to do it again, tender vagina notwithstanding.

After I grabbed my own clothing from my dresser, my fingers faltered when they brushed the hem of Matteo’s shirt. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to take it off. So instead, I slipped on a pair of pajama shorts underneath—not that you could tell, as they were completely obscured from view by the black fabric covering my thighs.

I ran a brush through the tangled mess of my hair and secured it atop my head in a messy bun. Then, it was off to the kitchen in search of food. I desperately needed to replenish the calories burned off during last night’s vigorous round of hot sex.

The smell of coffee infiltrated my nostrils halfway down the back steps, and I hastened my descent, desperate for the pick-me-up caffeine offered.

It didn’t occur to me that someone would have to be making that hot morning beverage until a silky-smooth voice purred, “Buongiorno, bella.”

My knees went weak, and I grabbed onto the back of a chair to remain upright when my eyes landed on the bare-chested man leaning against the island, a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips.

I moaned. “You’re playing dirty.”

A corner of his lips tipped up into a smirk. “And you look fucking incredible in my clothes.”

Heat flooded my cheeks, and my eyes dropped to the floor. “Couldn’t find my dress.”

Matteo chuckled. “That’s because I decided to keep it as a souvenir.”

Lifting my gaze, I arched an eyebrow. “How come you get one and I don’t?”

Those intense brown eyes pinned me to the spot. “You did. I gave it to you last night, and you’re walking around with it now.”

My blood ran cold when his meaning sank in. Holy shit, how could I have been so stupid?

Throat closing up, I croaked out, “I need to go to a pharmacy.”

“Tell me what you need. I’ll send Rico out.” He said it so casually, like this was no big deal, when in reality, it was fucking life changing if I didn’t handle it quickly.

“It’s personal.” I widened my eyes, hoping he would catch my drift so I wouldn’t be forced to say it aloud.

No such luck.

Cocking his head, he asked, “Personal how?”