Page 157 of Broken Mafia Bride

With a growl, he turns around, carrying me away from the wall and down the short hallway leading to our cozy four-poster bed. He drops me down carefully on the bed, my legs still wrapped around his hips.

I watch in rapture as he pushes his shirt the rest of the way off and tosses it away. Then he reaches for his belt buckle, undoing it and dragging his pants and briefs off in one move.

My gaze drifts over his exquisite figure, marveling at how handsome and perfect my husband is. From his tousled dark hair to his stunning blue eyes, the sculpted planes of his face, his broad shoulders, muscled arms, and veiny hands, down to the visible row of abs that lead to a triangle of trimmed pubic hair from which his hard member juts out, a bead of pre-cum already staining the tip.

I lick my lips in anticipation, suddenly hungry for the taste of my husband’s cock.

My husband, my husband, mine. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of saying those words. I still have to pinch myself to prove that all of this isn’t a dream. It still feels so surreal.

Raffaele wraps his fingers around his cock, fisting it with his dark gaze fixed on me, devouring me. “You’re so fucking perfect, Giulia. I want you so much.”

Before I can respond, he bends and takes my mouth again, tongue tangling with mine, a satisfied hum rumbling deep in his throat. He grabs the thin straps of my dress and pushes them down my arms.

I arch my back to allow him access to grasp my zipper and pull it down. Finally, he slips the dress down my body, leaving me in just pale pink panties.

Raffaele trails open-mouthed kisses from my mouth down to the corner of my jaw, then to my neck.

I moan when his hand covers one of my breasts, rolling the hard nipple to a tighter peak. My hands fly up, raking into the short hairs at the back of his head. When his mouth closes around my nipple, I scream, arching into him and grinding my soaked core against his body.

“Oh god. Please,” I cry, pulling at his hair.

His mouth continues its torturous journey while his fingers continue to torment me, pinching my nipples between his fingers, rolling and plucking at them. He grasps the edge of my panties with his teeth and pulls them over my hips and down my legs.

Raffaele cups my soaked pussy with one hand, his pupils blowing until his blue eyes are almost pitch black. I tremble, groaning at the possessiveness of his touch.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans. “You’re soaked for me. You’re dripping for me. You want me, huh?”

“Yes. Yes, please.” I throw my head back when one of his fingers drags over my slit. “Take me, Raff. Use me, I’m yours.”

And then, without warning, he pushes two thick fingers into my tight channel. A scream rips out of my throat at the incredible feeling of fullness, and I throw my head back, clawing at the bedsheets.

He pulls his fingers out almost all the way and then thrusts them into me again. I cry out, rocking into his next thrust. Desire coils inside me, gathering like a storm as he starts to fuck into me with his fingers, the top of his palm bumping against my clit with every move. It feels so goddamn incredible, and I’m so greedy for him.

I meet his every thrust, spreading my legs further to give me leverage to rock into his fingers. He crooks his fingers inside me, hitting something that makes me see stars for a split second.

I roar, head thrashing side to side at the amazing sensation.

“Raffaele, oh god. Oh god. Please.” I don’t know if I’m begging him to stop or for him never to stop. Each time we have sex is better than the last.

My orgasm is just starting to build at the base of my spine when he pulls his fingers away. I let out a cry of protest, tears beading at the corners of my eyes at being denied my release.

He chuckles, raising his fingers coated with my juices to his mouth. I watch as he licks his fingers clean, satisfaction evident on his face.

“God, baby, you taste so fucking good,” he tells me, leaning forward to kiss me again, allowing me to taste myself on his tongue.

I hum while one of his hands cups my breast.

I can feel the head of his cock positioned against my entrance, and all of me is shaking, aching for it. I feel so empty on the inside, and even though Raffaele is so close, and there’s barely a hairsbreadth of space between us, I still want him closer.

I want him inside me, underneath my skin, joined to me in the most intimate of ways. I want him to remind me that I belong to him just as much as he belongs to me.

His eyes meet mine, dark and intense with desire. “I love you,” he mouths the words.

“I love you.” My words end with a drawn-out cry as he finally pushes into me with one hard thrust. I gasp for breath as he fills me up, my pussy spasming around his length. He’s so big, and I have to take a moment to breathe through the feeling of being stuffed full.

“I want to fuck you until you scream,” he grits out. “I want to use you and dirty up like a little whore.”

“Hmm.”