Page 24 of The Mastermind (Mafia Rivals #1)

My eyes rolled at the sublime friction. She screamed, then immediately countered her protest at the intrusion by clutching my back, her nails digging into my skin.

I couldn’t bottom out the way I wanted without hurting her, so I pulled back and thrust again, obsessively drinking in her every reaction.

And what an entrancing picture she made.

Her head thrashed on the pillow, her skin turning a beautiful shade of pink as pleasure rolled over her.

With every stroke she took me deeper with a scream and a tentative push of her hips, until she was swallowing me up in heat and slick so incredible I knew my obsession wasn’t about to diminish any time soon.

‘Ah, baby, look how well you take my cock. You love it, don’t you?’

‘Yes! God, yes. Don’t stop.’

As if I could. As if the pressure gathering in the small of my back, along my spine and in my balls would allow me to do anything but pound, pound, pound her into the bed. Guttural, unintelligible sounds hammered from my throat.

It struck me that I wouldn’t have a single clue if I was snitching on myself with vital Salvatore secrets.

My only consolation was that she was equally out of it, her gorgeous eyes dazed and her kiss-swollen lips gasping as she begged me to fuck her harder. Harder.

The first ripple of her impending climax snatched a long growl from my soul. ‘Fuck, baby. I feel you, everywhere. It’s insane.’

‘Cesare… I’m coming. Oh God …’

She scratched the fuck out of my back as with a final scream, she shattered completely, milking me with squeezes so tight I had no choice. No choice.

‘Here it comes, baby. Take it. It’s all for you. Fuck!’

I exploded like a damn fire hydrant on a hot summer’s day, spewing cum until it spilled between our thighs, and still it wouldn’t stop.

My forehead dropped to hers before our mouths fused as we rode the glorious end of the rollercoaster.

Maddelena

Get up. Get up!

It’s time to go.

I tried to drag my eyes open, and failed. To be fair, I wasn’t trying very hard. My runaway heartbeat had barely settled and my reeling senses were still scattered to the wind, not interested in being located right now.

Still, I attempted to rally. ‘I have to go.’

‘Like hell you do,’ he grunted. ‘You mentioned a three-and-a-half-hour window. We’ve barely used half of it. And I sure as hell need to fuck you again before you leave my bed.’

At my helpless shiver, he laughed. ‘I should spank you for letting me waste my time arguing with you when you want this as much as I do.’

I bit my lip and finally opened my eyes.

He’d recovered much faster. And despite the signs of our vigorous fucking – his slightly flushed cheek, unruly hair and gloriously reddened mouth – he looked ready to go again. A sight that both thrilled and alarmed me.

My body ached, for sure, but it was already priming itself for another round.

And… sweet Jesus, as he rose and prowled to the bathroom without an ounce of self-consciousness – and why the hell should he with a body like Adonis? – I couldn’t shut up the voice yelling at me to get up fast enough.

Condom disposed of, he came back into the room and stopped beside the bed.

Ferocious eyes traced my body from face to feet and back again, stopping at my pussy.

The warm towel he pressed between my legs was a welcome surprise.

An alarmingly heart-warming act that snatched what little breath I’d regained.

Like his feeding me and catching me when I was dizzy, this felt like an act of a considerate man. Not the vengeance-seeking mobster’s heir from the nightclub or the racer hellbent on crushing his enemies.

But weirdly, I didn’t even prefer one over the other. They were all tied up in the mystery that had created Cesare Salvatore. And my growing addiction was fiercely worrisome.

Done tending me, he threw the cloth to the floor then, reaching into the drawer, he slid his other hand up my inner thigh.

I watched in awed fascination as his cock began to stir once more.

‘Normally, I’d give you a chance to rest, but as you can see, you turn me on like a fucking teenager. And you imposed a timeline on us. So’ – he smirked as he gripped my hips and flipped me over onto my stomach, then arranged me onto my hands and knees – ‘this, too, is your fault.’

Then he proceeded to pleasure me in the most sublime way.

‘One more thing,’ Cesare said as he shifted sideways and gathered my pliant body close.

I groaned, desperately fighting the urge to succumb to the weariness sapping deliciously at my bones. Like most health-conscious individuals, I had a gym membership I used on a semi-regular basis. And when I couldn’t go I utilised a semi-disciplined yoga regime.

Sadly, neither of them had prepared me for what Cesare wrung from my body. The result of which was needing every ounce of depleted energy to get up, get dressed.

Leave .

I couldn’t fall asleep. Not here. Not now. Never with him. ‘Seriously?’

There was a reason Bonafacio’s plans to marry me off and push his agenda for great-grandchildren had hit a major roadblock five years ago. A reason why in a patriarchal hierarchy where women were low on the totem pole, I ranked even lower.

As a teenager I’d suddenly developed the nasty habit of sleepwalking. And if that wasn’t awful enough, I also had a habit of carrying out full-blown conversations with zero recollection of them upon waking.

As a mobster’s granddaughter, it was a massive flaw that would’ve had my tongue cut out in the Old Country half a century ago. Luckily I’d been born in this age, to a grandfather who despised me but thankfully drew the line at murdering his own granddaughter for a flaw that was out of her control.

Small mercies for the win.

But the warning had been drilled into me repeatedly.

Never fall asleep in a presence of anyone untrustworthy.

A warning I was in serious danger of flouting right now.

Getupgetupgetup.

Firm hands brushed back my damp hair from my face, then wrapped around my head to raise my head so he could capture my gaze. ‘You need to get dressed.’

I stiffened, distressed to be swinging from an inner pep-talk about leaving to being annoyed and a little hurt that Cesare was pushing for the same thing. ‘Why?’

‘My doctor is on his way. He’s going to draw some blood.’

Doctor? What the hell? Did we do something unsavoury? Or was he now confessing a condition he should’ve mentioned before? Oh God. ‘Again, why?’

He dropped his mouth to mine in a quick searing kiss. ‘Because the next time we fuck will be without a barrier between us. I’m clean and I know you are too but just for your peace of mind, we’ll get fresh tests, sì ?’

My head spun afresh. ‘I… don’t even know where to start with that.’ I shook my head. ‘Actually, I do. How the hell do you know whether I’m clean or not?’

His speaking glance ridiculed my statement. When I kept my eyebrow raised, he chuckled, although the amusement didn’t reach his eyes. Sharp grey eyes had returned to predatory alertness. His fingers tightened subtly in my hair.

‘The same way I know Matteo has been battling angina for five years, and your uncle Stefano has been making it not so subtly known that he’d love to step into his brother’s shoes.’

My breath caught, giving me away before I could hide my astonishment.

My father’s heart condition had been kept within a very tight circle on pain of death to anyone who dared breathe a word of it.

He’d hoped it would all go away via a super-secret operation performed in Sicily two years ago, but the outcome had been less than optimal.

It’d put an even greater strain between the half-brothers, necessitating the need to put a little distance between them.

It was also why Bonafacio had put Stefano on overwatch duty within the racing team.

It kept him out of New York for the better part of nine months of the year and the friction within the family to a minimum.

‘If you know, why…’ Shut up, Maddie. You might not like his answer.

‘Why haven’t I used that juicy information?’

My head bobbed before I could throttle my curiosity.

He kissed me again. ‘Who says I won’t? Everything is about timing, baby.’

‘Is it? Because I’m 1,000 per cent sure there will never be the right timing for this if your grandfather… and mine… find out what we did tonight. What you intend to keep doing.’

His face hardened with soul-shaking savagery for a single moment. Before he actively cleared it and shrugged. ‘ If being the operative word. I don’t intend it to be front page news. Do you?’ His gaze probed mine. Hard .

It was the right answer. The sensible one. And yet, a bite of hurt pierced my ribcage. Still, I managed to shake my head.

He smacked me lightly on the ass. ‘Good. Now get up.’ He rose to dispose of the second condom and returned in a silk bathrobe.

‘And what if I don’t want my blood drawn?’

He paused at the end of the bed, and dear God, his deliciousness was almost unnervingly potent.

He shrugged. ‘We keep going as we’ve started.’ He leaned forward, propped his fists on either side of my feet. ‘But go on, lie to my face right now and tell me you wouldn’t love for me to fuck you raw?’

Damn him.

I couldn’t.

So I didn’t.