Page 35 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride

"So you do want me.” My body arches toward him.

"I want you," dream-Roman replies with a wicked smile.

His hands explore me, finding places that make me gasp and sigh.

The contradiction of this gentle touch from hands I know have done violence makes everything more intense, more forbidden.

“I’m going to fuck you now, Isabella.”

In the waking world, those words would frighten me. At the very least, make me nervous.

I’ve never been with a man.

But this isn’t the waking world.

So I open to him. I open my body, my very being. He thrusts and is inside me. It doesn’t hurt like I’m told it would.

I’m not sure what I’m feeling, yet I don’t want it to stop. He moves, in and out, in and out, and I’m aware of him losing himself in me.

Something builds inside me, intense and frustrating.

And then it peaks and pleasure washes through me.

As it subsides, I wonder if I’ve had my first orgasm.

7

ROMAN

I wake before dawn, my body's internal alarm clock going off despite the late night.

Turning my head, I find Isabella curled on her side of the bed, one hand tucked under her cheek, dark hair spilling across the pillow.

The soft glow from the moonlight coming through the window casts just enough light to trace the delicate curve of Isabella's cheek, the slight part of her lips.

She's beautiful.

I've always known this, seen it at family gatherings across crowded rooms, but it's different up close. Intimate.

My fingers twitch with the unexpected urge to brush back a strand of hair from her face.

I don't.

It feels a little perverted. Even though we’re married, I’m well aware of how much older I am than her. She’s closer in age to Angelica than me.

But then there is Emilia.

It’s been three years since a woman has been in my bed overnight.

Since Emilia died just after Angelica’s fourth birthday from a rare aggressive cancer. I try to be grateful that Emilia and Angelica had four years together, but it’s hard.

Since then, I've kept women at arm's length.

Quick encounters in hotel rooms. Nothing permanent.

Nothing that could complicate my life or Angelica's.

Nothing that could break our hearts again.