Chapter 2 Mafia Boss's Captive Bride 2

Waking to the morning light filtering through heavy velvet curtains, I felt the deep ache between my legs, a throbbing reminder of the night before when Lorenzo had claimed me so completely. His arm was draped possessively over my waist, his solid body pressed against my back, his heat radiating like a furnace that made my skin prickle with awareness. I shifted slightly, trying to slip away without waking him, but he tightened his hold immediately, pulling me back flush against his chest, his morning hardness nestling insistently against the curve of my ass.

"Going somewhere, wife?" His voice was rough with sleep, a gravelly timbre that sent shivers racing down my spine, his lips brushing the sensitive shell of my ear. Goosebumps erupted across my bare skin, and I bit my lip to stifle a gasp.

"Bathroom," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper, and he released me with a low, rumbling chuckle that vibrated through his chest. Slipping from the bed, I padded to the en-suite bathroom, the cool marble tiles a shock against my feet. The room was a palace of luxury-gleaming white marble countertops veined with gold, a massive clawfoot tub, and a shower that could fit a crowd. I stared at my reflection in the oversized mirror, lips swollen from his kisses, my neck and collarbone bruised with dark love bites that bloomed like possessive signatures, my dark hair tousled in wild waves. The woman looking back at me was a stranger, marked indelibly by the mafia boss who'd stolen her away.

I splashed cold water on my face, trying to wash away the confusion swirling in my mind-hatred for my captivity warring with the undeniable pull of desire he'd ignited. But even as I patted dry, my body hummed with residual need, nipples tightening at the memory of his mouth on them. Shaking it off, I returned to the bedroom, only to find Lorenzo sitting up against the headboard, the silk sheets pooled low on his hips, his morning erection tenting the fabric obscenely. My cheeks heated with a flush I couldn't control, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the thick outline straining there.

He noticed, of course, his full lips curving into that predatory smirk. "Like what you see? Come here, Isabella." His command was laced with dark promise, and despite the voice in my head screaming to resist, my feet moved on their own accord. I climbed onto the bed, the mattress dipping under my weight, and straddled his lap without thinking, feeling his hardness press directly against my bare core through the thin barrier of the sheet. The contact sent a jolt of heat straight to my pussy, already slick with fresh arousal.

His large hands roamed up my back, tracing the dip of my spine before sliding lower to squeeze the firm globes of my ass, guiding my hips in a slow grind against him. The friction was electric, his cock rubbing along my folds, teasing my clit with each roll. "That's it, move for me," he groaned, his head falling back against the pillows, exposing the strong column of his throat as his Adam's apple bobbed. I couldn't help but obey, the heat building in my core, wetness seeping to coat us both as I rocked faster, chasing the building pressure.

He captured my mouth in a searing kiss then, his tongue dueling with mine in a battle for dominance, tasting of sleep and sin. One hand slipped between our bodies, his fingers parting my slick lips to tease my entrance, dipping in shallowly before circling my swollen clit with expert pressure. "So fucking wet already, principessa. You want this cock, don't you?" he murmured against my lips, and I whimpered in response, my body betraying me completely.

"Ride me, Isabella," he commanded, his free hand lifting my hips just enough to free his cock from the sheets. It sprang up, thick and veined, the head glistening with pre-cum. He positioned it at my entrance, and I sank down slowly, inch by torturous inch, gasping at the exquisite stretch as he filled me completely. He was so thick, bottoming out against my cervix, making my walls flutter around him. Once fully seated, I began to rock my hips, hands braced on his chiseled chest for leverage, my nails scraping over his flat nipples and drawing a hiss from his lips.

He thrust up to meet my movements, the pace quickening as our bodies slapped together rhythmically, sweat beginning to bead on his tanned skin. His muscles flexed under my palms, abs contracting with each drive. "Fuck, your pussy feels like heaven gripping me," he grunted, his thumb finding my clit again, rubbing tight, insistent circles that made my thighs quiver. Pleasure coiled low in my belly, tight and insistent, my breaths coming in short pants as I leaned forward, my breasts brushing against his chest, nipples dragging deliciously.

I moaned into his mouth as the orgasm crashed over me, my walls fluttering and clenching around his length, milking him. He flipped us in one fluid motion, pinning me beneath his weight, my legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into me relentlessly, the headboard thumping against the wall. His pace was brutal, each thrust driving deeper, hitting that spot inside that made stars explode behind my eyelids. "Come again, squeeze me tight," he demanded, and I did, my second climax ripping through me just as he buried himself deep, spilling hot ropes of cum inside me with a guttural curse, his body shuddering.

We lay there panting, his forehead pressed to mine, our breaths mingling. "Good morning," he said softly, almost tenderly, brushing a strand of hair from my damp face. For a moment, the hardness in him softened, and I saw a glimpse of something real beneath the mafia facade.