Page 22 of Forgive Me, Father (Don #1)

NINETEEN

THE WHITE RABBIT

The room smelled of sex and I genuinely enjoyed spending time with my little runaway.

She shared stories about her great-grandfather, Levi, and the kind of businessman he was, smart, strategic, just like his son, her grandfather.

Then she spoke of her father, and I couldn’t help but notice the similarities to my own.

I knew he was a man of vision; he proved that with the mergers he planned.

He had a solid head on his shoulders, but lacked the unyielding drive it took to lead.

Her brother killed before, but not the amount he should’ve. Emily was the daughter they’d always dreamed of. She was soft, sweet, smart, and obedient. The complete opposite of my Camilla.

But what she didn’t realize was just how beautiful she truly was. I knew she struggled with Italian. She’d told me she’d tried to learn, but the language never quite stuck.

I kissed her body, started with her ear and decided to take this opportunity to teach her the language.

“ Orecchio ,” I kissed the shell. I moved to her earlobe and sucked.

She loved it. Squirmed and purred under my touch.

“ Lobo dell'orecchio .”

She repeated the word and I nodded at her perfect pronunciation.

I was still hard for her and it drove me crazy, a frustration I couldn’t shake, because I had never felt this way with anyone before.

I had no idea what she was doing to me, and I struggled to understand it.

She repeated every word I taught her, absorbing it all. Slowly, she learned about all her body parts in Italian.

“How do you say, ‘Fuck me’ in Italian?”

“Fuck me? There are different ways to say that word. Depending on which way you mean it. The infliction. Like when you bump your toe, and you say fuck me.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You know exactly which fuck me I meant.”

“ Scopami ,” I whispered and the beast in me woke up. I kissed her lips and grabbed her leg, pulled it up toward her chest. She was so wet, and I absolutely loved every second of it.

“Your pussy is always wet and ready just for me, little runaway,” I groaned, rubbing the head of my cock through her wetness.

I pressed my cock inside of her and started to pump hard. The pace was slow, but the action was hard. I wanted to be deep inside her, to drown in who she was. Who she was becoming to me.

“So tight,” I groaned. “I didn’t know perfect pussy like this existed before I ripped through your innocence.”

She gasped at my dirty words, blushing as I filled her over and over with my thick cock. Her full, natural breasts bounced on her chest with each thrust and I couldn’t tear my gaze away even if I tried, the motion mesmerizing me.

It was excruciatingly delicious and I knew I was going to devour her.

“ Sei Mio ,” I spoke in Italian.

She gasped as I pushed hard into her again.

“Say it,” I grunted. “ Sei Mio .”

“ Sei Mio ,” she replied. “What does it mean?”

“It means you are mine.” I fucked her faster, thrusting harder, and didn’t stop.

Her complaints grew and curses slipped through her lips as she became wetter.

The friction was heaven. I never experienced a pussy like hers before and I was proud that she was my wife.

That she was mine and I was her first and only.

“Faster, don’t stop,” she begged.

I pulled her legs wider and rammed into her again and again and again. Our bodies slapped against each other as her screams filled up the room.

“Say my name!” I growled.

“Alfonso! Don’t fucking stop. Please!” she screamed.

“Good girl,” I praised her for taking direction like a master.

“I’m going to come,” she mewled. Sweat glistening all over her body as I took her deep.

“Come for me, baby, come hard. I want to feel your pussy pulsing around my cock.”

“English. Fuck, speak English.”

I chuckled as I kept fucking her brains out. She was crying with her euphoria. I was moving inside of her like a madman.

“Come for me,” I growled in English. “Come hard, little runaway. I want your walls to squeeze my thick cock until you draw every drop of cum out of me.”

Her screams stroked my ego and then she came like a fucking waterfall. I moved faster inside her like a freight train and barely pulled out in time. I spilled on her stomach. Drained was an understatement as I fell down next to her on my back.

She curled up into my side, eyes closed, body trembling, and I couldn’t help feeling that I was never going to get enough of her.

“Why do you always come on my stomach?” she asked softly after a moment.

“What?”

“I can’t give you an heir if you don’t do your part.”

I kissed her head. “I’m enjoying my time with you, and having you to myself,” I explained. “Soon enough though, I will fill you with my cum every chance I get.”

I felt her smile against my skin, and before long, we both slipped into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

The sun was setting as I slowly opened my eyes, the soft glow of twilight filling the room. My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten in hours. Camilla was still nestled peacefully in my arms, undisturbed.

Everything fucking ached. I couldn’t remember the last time I fucked this much. I was not fit enough for this pace anymore.

Cami groaned as her body stirred and she stretched. “I need food.”

“I know. I’m hungry, too. Do you mind joining me for dinner at a little Italian restaurant?”

“I would love to,” she replied and I kissed her on top of her head before climbing out of bed.

I stepped into the shower, the warm water easing the tension in my tired muscles. A few moments later, she joined me, and for now, it seemed we were both content. It was good to know that she needed me for more than just my cock.

I gave her space to get dressed as I made my way to my room. Nico truly had no idea how well he’d chosen.

I was the first to arrive downstairs and found Nico and Sebastian sitting at the table, playing cards like a pair of old men.

Nico glanced up and gave me nothing more than a knowing look.

“Fuck off,” I said, knowing what he asked with that stare. Was my bride still alive?

I knew that they listened to every single wail leaving her lips.

“Where do you want to go?” Nico asked.

“You can have the evening off. We will just go eat something and then come back.”

“Do you think it’s wise?”

“We’ll be fine, Nico. I think we sorted out our shit, or some of it.”

Nico’s lips curved. “Please tell me that she gave you her consent.”

I chuckled but didn’t bother responding. Her heels echoed down the staircase as I opened the fridge, reaching for a bottle of water.

“Camilla,” Nico said.

She didn’t reply and walked over to me.

“You sure you don’t need me to go with you?” he asked in Italian as we reached the door, and I flipped him off.

The evening was beautiful, and the restaurant was just a short walk from the hotel, so we decided on a stroll. She slipped her hand into the crook of my arm as we made our way through the quiet streets.

“So, what did he ask you?”

“He is an idiot. It’s the reason I didn’t answer him.”

“Figures.”

I chuckled. “It’s nothing for you to worry about. Nico is a good guy. He would always take care of you if I’m not around. Just not in that way.”

Her lips curved as a giggle pushed past them. “I doubt he is as good as you, anyway.”

She knew exactly how to stroke a man’s ego, and I couldn’t resist. I gently took her hand from my arm, pressing a soft kiss to her wrist before lacing our fingers together.

As we continued walking, we talked about my Nonna, how much she meant to me. She was probably the most important woman in my life, aside from her, of course.

I could see her soften in my presence, and silently, I prayed to whatever higher power was guiding our lives that we would never lose this connection between us.

It was a passion unlike anything I’d ever known. One so intense, it might just be strong enough to last a lifetime. A love that could see through my bullshit and still choose to stay by my side. A love that might, in time, learn to embrace me for who I truly am.

I knew a love like that still existed; it was just fucking rare. And deep down, I feared that if I was the lucky bastard to experience it, I’d just wonder what price I’d have to pay to keep it.

THE LITTLE RUNAWAY

The Italian restaurant wasn’t just quaint, it had a warmth that wrapped around you the moment you walked in, and everyone seemed to know Alfonso. I knew it had something to do with his Nonna, the same woman who inspired Hotel de Anna.

The owner even let Alfonso step into the kitchen and whip up some of the most amazing pasta I’d ever tasted.

I thought Philip was a catch, but my husband? He was twenty thousand times more than I’d ever imagined. Sure, he had a temper, but so did I, and I figured it was just part of who he was.

His temper was as extreme as his passion. And it was his passion and what he could do, what he could pull out of me, that made me addicted to him.

He let me sample the pasta before he served it. The rich aromas of béchamel sauce, garlic, and fresh basil danced on my tongue, each bite a perfect blend of flavors.

I’d always loved pasta, but his? His was something extraordinary.

“Good?” he asked with his mouth filled with food. I laughed and wiped a spot of béchamel clinging to the corner of his lips.

"Delicious," I purred, savoring the flavor. He smiled, then carefully transferred the contents of the pan into two bowls. Together, we left the kitchen and made our way to the booth table nearby, settling in to make ourselves at home.

A waiter came with wine and poured us each a glass without Alfonso asking.

The wine complemented the pasta, and everything felt like a dream.

Like I was going to wake up any minute and find myself again on the morning of my wedding and this man would be unreachable to me.

I pinched myself, glad that it wasn’t a dream.

One of the owners came over to speak with Alfonso. Though I didn’t understand a word they said, I couldn’t help but smile as I watched their conversation bring a genuine smile to my husband’s handsome face.

It was clear they had known him his entire life, watched him grow into the man he was today, with all the layers that made him who he was.

I touched his hand and excused myself, mentioning I needed the restroom. However, I stumbled upon a unisex bathroom instead. It was lined with cubicles, and thankfully, there wasn’t a urinal in sight.

I found the first open cubicle and relieved my bladder. My head was spinning a little from all the wine Alfonso had been feeding me, but it was a good night, nothing like the night we’d spent at the club. It was hard to believe he was the same man.

I flushed the toilet and opened the cubicle door, ready to wash my hands, only to find Alfonso casually leaning against the sink, his back to the basin.

He walked me back into the cubicle and closed the door, locking it behind me.

“What…”

He put his finger on my lips, gesturing to be quiet and then he pulled me into him, kissing the crap out of me. The kiss felt erotic, and I had no idea what was going through his mind until his hands disappeared underneath my dress, and started to pull away my panties.

“Alfonso,” I mouthed, but he just spun me around and gently nudged my knees onto the toilet seat.

Surely, he would not do what I thought he wanted to do?

He fiddled with my panties, and I couldn’t even reprimand him. Before I could turn back around, he entered me from behind and my eyes closed from the euphoria that his cock was doing inside of me.

Fuck, this wasn’t normal.

Everyone always told me how painful it was. Sure, the night we consummated the wedding was horrible, but now it was the opposite. I couldn’t get enough, and from the way he was fucking me in this stall, neither could he.

I tried my utmost best not to make a single noise, and it was fucking hard when a woman on her cellphone used the cubicle next to us.

Alfonso barely moved inside of me, as his hand clamped around my mouth. When she left, not once saying goodbye to whoever was on the call, he rammed into me again.

He fucked me hard and fast until I succumbed. I wanted to scream, but it was impossible to do that.

He grunted and pulled out just in time, his sperm seeping through his fingers as he pumped faster.

The poor guy almost doubled over, and I wanted to laugh but didn’t. We had to be quiet.

He gave me a deep, lingering kiss before heading out first. The faucet turned on as he washed his hands. I quickly freshened up, flushing the toilet before stepping out just as Alfonso left the bathroom.

A woman smiled at me as she checked her makeup while washing her hands. I doubted she had heard anything from the cubicle, but still, I couldn’t shake the warm, reddish hue creeping across my cheeks.

I pinched myself, half in disbelief. If this was really what he was like, our marriage might just turn to be the best thing that ever happened to me.