Page 121 of Vows of a Mobster

But my body didn’t care if I was being smart or dumb. It just wanted him. His hand squeezed mine.

“Second thoughts, Marissa?”

I glanced at him sideways to check whether he was mocking me. All I saw on his face was concern. I shook my head.

We entered a small elevator, and it smoothly took us to the bottom floor.Just like the last time, I thought to myself.

We stepped out of the elevator, and he took us to a private room. The room was dark, furnished with nothing but a sofa and a bar facing a one-way glass to a large stage.

He strode towards the bar in the corner and poured two drinks. He came back and handed me one.

I took it and sniffed at it. Smelled like something Mateo would drink. “Hundred-year-old scotch,” he told me.

I wrinkled my nose. “I prefer wine.” I sat the drink down on the side table.

He smiled. “I’ll take note of that for next time.”

It sounded like a promise, a dangerous one. He sat down in the chair, placed his glass on the side table and pulled me onto his lap. Startled by the unexpected move, a squeal left my lips.

“You could have asked,” I scolded him.

His large hands wrapped around my waist, his warm breath skating along my neck. Seven years had gone by and my need for him was greater than ever. Time hasn’t diminished it at all. I squirmed in his lap, his bulge hard under my butt, and a soft groan left his lips. “Careful. Otherwise, we won’t make it to the main show.”

My hands rested on his broad shoulders. So close to him, I could see little creases around his eyes. Yes, he was older but no less lethal and no less handsome. Before I could question it, I leaned over and kissed the creases.

I must have shocked him. Truthfully, I shocked myself. “You look older,” I muttered under my breath. It was a stupid statement. “I guess we are both older.”

“You still look the same to me.” His hand roamed down my leg. “But you are right; I’m an old man compared to you.”

A choked laugh escaped me. “I don’t think you are an old man, Declan.” If anything, I wanted him even more today than I did seven years ago.

His fingers grazed along my thighs. He inhaled deeply, as if he was committing my scent into his memory. “Are you wet for me, baby?”

His fingers brushed against my panties and I moaned. “Yes.” My voice was breathless.

He was making me burn with just a light touch. I swallowed hard, trying to get myself together. Dim lights flickered, leaving both of us in the darkness of our private room, while the stage glimmered with soft lights.

A man and a woman stepped onto it, and excitement shot through me. Declan was right; I might not make it till the end of the show. I could see it from here that the woman was beautiful. Her hair was warm brown and fell down her back in thick waves. The only clothing she wore was black lingerie that exposed more than it covered. My eyes shifted to the man on the stage. He has dark hair like Declan and was built like him too.

The man’s fingers traced down the woman’s body and a shiver ran down my spine when he placed a kiss on her slender shoulder. His fingers further trailed down the front of her body, down her breast, her flat stomach and disappeared between her thighs.

My body hummed with need; the pleasure I could have with the man right here. My body was fidgety on his lap, rubbing my butt back and forth against his thighs.

His hands turned me towards him and our eyes met. I heard the moans of the woman and the grunting of the man on the stage through a fog in my brain, but none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was Declan, his eyes dark with desire reflecting mine.

“Take your dress off,” he ordered, his voice rough. I immediately obeyed, while he helped me pull it over my head. “Ah, you are wearing my favorite color.”

I had red panties and a bra on. He said red reminded him of me, my temperament. His hands reached behind my back and unclasped the bra, letting it carelessly fall.

“I can smell your arousal.” His voice vibrated through me, my body oversensitive. “Unbuckle me, Marissa.”

I eagerly did as he commanded, his cock springing towards me. The last time he didn’t wear any boxers either. His strong hands ripped my panties off in one swift move, but I didn’t care. I wanted his hands on my sex. His finger pushed inside my pussy and my body buckled at the sweet intrusion.

My brain was hazy with the pent-up need for him; my hands reached for his cock.

His head fell backwards. “Fuck, baby. I missed you,” he moaned, his hips thrusting up into my touch. He pulled his fingers out of my pussy and licked them one by one. “You still taste like my woman,” he groaned, bringing me to the brink of an orgasm with his words. Now that was sad, wasn’t it?

“I need you inside me,” I moaned, my voice hoarse and strange to my own ears. My skin felt too hot, my body burning with need.