Page 101 of Forgive Me, Father

Eventually, they’d see it, see that she wasn’t just important.She was everything.

The food was good, but honestly, nothing compared to the fire sitting beside me.

“Alfonso, calm down,” my sister said.“Your food is not going to run away.”

I flipped her off without missing a beat and kept eating like I hadn’t seen a proper meal in days.My sister just smiled, amused but smart enough not to push further.

The rest of lunch drifted into familiar territory, family chatter, names thrown around, connections drawn and redrawn like an old family map.Thankfully, Paulo stepped in, guiding Camilla through it all so I didn’t have to play tour guide to our tangled bloodlines.

Then Roberto approached, ever the messenger.

“Alfonso,” he said, his tone clipped.“Camilla.When you’re finished, Father would like a word.”

I didn’t even look up.“Give me half an hour.”It was time to get rid of this hard-on.

“He said…”

I cut him off, my tone sharper this time.“Half an hour, Roberto.”

He lifted his hands in surrender and backed off without another word.

Camilla leaned in, her brow furrowed.“Is everything okay?”

“No,” I said quietly.“Get up.”

She didn’t ask again, just rose to her feet, concern tightening her posture.

I slipped off my jacket and draped it over my arm to hide the tent pole in my pants.

I took her hand, firm and fast, and we moved with long, purposeful strides.I didn’t stop to greet anyone.Didn’t nod.Didn’t speak.I pushed straight through the house, the weight of unspoken intent hanging heavy between us.

We climbed the stairs to the first floor in silence.

“Where are we going?”she asked, breathless but curious.

“To fix what you started,” I said, lifting my jacket just enough for her to catch a glimpse, and that wicked smile of hers returned.She thought it was hilarious.

“Laugh all you want,” I muttered in Italian, low and dark.

We reached the first powder room.I yanked the door open, pulled her inside, and shut it behind us with a sharpclickof the lock.

She looked around, amused.“Oh, this is quaint.What is this?”

“A fuck room for now.”

More giggles came from her lips as I grabbed her and bent her over the basin.I lifted her dress and unzipped my pants.I moved her panties away from her opening and drove myself into her.

“Not a fucking word,” I ordered her as she stood bent over the basin, a gilded mirror in front of her face.My one hand lifted her hip higher, to take me deeper, and the other tangled up in her hair.

She took my orders extremely well as I fucked her faster.

Her slippery pussy drove me insane as my cock slammed into her.

She grunted and in the mirror, I could see the strain on her face.Her eyebrows furrowed as her lips parted.

I know she wanted to moan.

She bit down on her lip as she breathed harder through her nose.Her hand was desperate to grab something to hold on to.My hair fell over my eyes from all the pumping, and I was close.I could feel it.The ache that was bubbling in my ball sack.It was going to shoot up my shaft and release inside of her deeply.