Cosa Nostra: A Steamy Mafia Romance (Kids of The District Book 3) by Nicci Harris (new books to read .TXT) 📕

Leaning forward, I rest my forehead on her shoulder and take a deep breath.

"Max, tell me," she pleads softly. Straightening back up, I look down at the thin piece of fabric between her legs. Stare at it, actually. Her fingers still in my hair. My hands stroke from her knees to that fabric and stop just shy of it, but I can feel her heat. I push her panties aside, exhaling roughly when I see her smooth bald pussy lips spread open a little due to the position she's in. She is breathing heavily now. Her whole-body rocks slightly with each big breath. My cock starts to fill, pressure building inside it as I touch that soft opening with the tip of my finger.

She whimpers slightly - not in a good way. I stop my finger from going any further but don’t move it away. I stare up at her beautiful face just as a single tear slides down her cheek. My jaw tics. I want to fuck that sorrow out of her. Her sorrow makes me want to set the earth on fire. She must see that rage building through me because she's kissing my tight lips now. I can taste the salt from her tear.

"I'm sorry," she says against my mouth. I've heard that far too much today. And from her, it’s the last set of words I need to hear. Her breath, so sweet, floats into my mouth as she says, "I still hear his words."

My teeth grind. Fucking Erik. If he wasn't in pieces already, I'd consider digging him up just to cut his flesh off myself.

"What words? Tell me what he said."

She shakes her head once, timidly shifting her gaze to the ground. "I don’t want to repeat it."

"Cassidy." I lift her chin and press my lips to hers quickly. Lingering close, I brush our mouths together as I speak. "Think about me. My fingers touching you. Pleasing you. Now tell me what he said that's keeping you from me."

Swallowing nervously, she takes a few moments to answer. "He said I'm weak and that men enter women. Like the devil does."

Fuck. I breathe raggedly. "You don't think you enter me?" I snap, but my aggression isn't meant for her.

She sucks another breath in. A strained breath. "He said you control me with my body. With this part of me."

I want to both howl in anger and burst into laughter at the pure inaccuracy of that statement. Leaning into her almost-pink hair, I speak into her ear. Her cheek moves into mine affectionately as I do. "Every time I come, I think about you. You're in my head." I breathe her in. Cassidy. She doesn't wear perfume; her scent is simply feminine. Clean. Natural. My breath on her neck causes her to gasp and then pant. "This soft wet skin." Gradually, I tunnel my fingers between her pussy lips, and her startled moans resonate in my cock. My other hand nearly spans the width of her slim back, pushing her trim abdomen forward and arching her the way I like. "These strong responsive muscles that grip me like a fist. The freckles on your inner thighs. Your smell. Taste. I don't control you, Cassidy. Nothing is further from the truth. You control me. My fingers. My lips. My cock." I shake my head against hers. "You own me, little one." She's crying now, so I pepper kisses all over her face, tasting the saltiness of her tears as if I were licking her wounds. "Control me, little one," I tell her.

She blinks at me for a moment, lips open and eyes hesitant. Understanding my gentle command, she swallows nervously and then begins to roll her little pelvis on my lap, stirring my fingers inside her tight, pulsing pussy. She stabilises herself with my shoulders, delicate fingers holding my tight muscles - tight with restraint.

She's tense, but with every forward wave of her hips, her expression becomes more captivated by the moment. I admire her body as her hips start to sway with a rhythm and grace like nothing I've ever seen before. My little ballerina dances on my fingers like it's an enchanting, beautiful act. And with her, it is. My cock strains with yearning in my trousers. Needing to fuck her. Feeling possessive and in need of reassurance she's still mine, I press my teeth together to stop from growling the following words. Instead, I demand gently, "Whose fingers are inside you?"

The tops of her pert milky-white tits flush as heat spreads across her skin. "Max's." She pants my name. Leaning in, I take her taut, aroused nipple into my mouth, my teeth gripping it through the little singlet she's wearing. Groaning at the feel of her rolling body and circling hips, I suck on that tiny bud. Her sweet breast is so perky, so pointed - perfection. When I twist my fingers against her rhythm, I feel her buck slightly with pleasure.

"Max." She whimpers my name.

"Max who?" I press.

"Max Butcher."

"Tell me you love me," I order, not understanding or analysing why I want to hear it, but goddamn-it, I do.

"I love you, Max." Little whimper-mixed moans leave her parted pink lips, so I swallow those sounds, but although muffled, they only get louder as I steal her breath.

While I finger her slowly, she responds to my penetration, sucking my fingers in and kneading me out with those strong internal muscles of hers. "What do you want?"

She starts to shake. "More."

Using my thumb, I press down on her sweet little clit, massaging it back and forth while the two fingers inside her work at a steady pace. "You feel so good wrapped around my fingers, little one."

Her lips are soft and confused as they strain to kiss me and moan and pant simultaneously. Her body starts to tremble, and I break our kiss to watch her little tits jiggle beneath white fabric and