Page 132 of Dirty Mafia Torment

God, she’s magnificent. And just redefined every wet dream I’ve ever had.

What makes me even harder is the challenge and mischief in her eyes.

“Are you happy to see me, or is it just your dick?” she teases.

Her gaze drops.

The answer’s fucking obvious.

“Oh, babe. You’ve no idea how happy.” My voice is husky, raw. “But you’re about to find out.” I prowl toward her, slow and deliberate.

She bites her lip and smirks. My kind of woman, unafraid to ask for what she wants.

I grab the blindfold, the flogger, the vibrator, but abandon the rope. Restraining myself so she has time to heal, even though I’d love to unleash on her.

“Do you trust me?” I demand.

Our eyes lock, and a flicker of emotion crosses hers.

Her response is a punch to the chest. “Completely.”

She’s forgiven me.

I’m half-tempted to lift her off the bench, lay her out soft and slow on the couch, and make love to her until she can’t remember anything. Whisper all the things I’ve never said out loud as I move inside her. That I’ve never wanted anyone else. That it’s always been her. That she’s mine. That she wrecks me in the best way.

How I fucking love her.

Well, shit.

The thought rocks me. I wait for denial to grip me.

It never comes.

“What are you waiting for?” she huffs, impatient. “Spank me already.”

A grin spreads across my face.

She’s tailor-made for me.

My girl wants to play?

Let’s play.

I set the flogger and vibrator aside and curl my fingers into her silky hair. I give it a slow tug, testing her, guiding her into the game. “Tell me something dirty. The filthier, the better.”

She gasps, half laughs, caught between nerves and excitement.

“I want the R.”

The R?

“Make me your canvas. Paint my skin with your come. Brand me as yours.”

It’s not filthy but smart. Feeding my kink back to me and fueling every savage instinct in me.

I slide the blindfold down her face, letting it fall into place over her eyes.

Her lashes flutter against the fabric.