Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“Nico,” she whispers, and somehow, she makes my name sound like stop.
“I know.”
Obviously, I don’t. I press my mouth against my niece’s lips. She doesn’t kiss me back for a moment. For a moment, I’m taking her, owning her. Then I feel the tension melt away from her. She puts her hand on my wrist and begins to guide me up her leg. I open my mouth, letting my tongue find hers, feeling her juicy thickness as I get closer to her haven.
My rod has never been harder. My lust has never burned brighter. I didn’t think it could burn this hot. As soon as it’s over, I know I’ll regret this. I didn’t bring her out here for this. But when I press my hand down between her legs, she opens her mouth and moans.
“You need to tell me to stop. Right now.” I shift my hand up and down outside the fabric of her pants. I’m sure I can feel her wetness through the material, feel her folds swollen with lust, and even her needy nub. “Tell me you want nothing to do with a barbarian like me. Tell me you’re too pure. That I’m a goddamn bastared for doing this to my niece.”
“Is that… my… responsibility?” she gasps, her hips moving in time with my touch. It's almost as if she’s doing it reflexively, like some deep need inside her is chasing pleasure.
She’s asked the perfect question. No. Of course, it’s not hers. It’s mine. I’m older. I’m married. She doesn’t know the marriage is a sham—I’m putting her in the position of being involved in an affair, betraying her aunt. But that doesn’t stop me. I move my hand faster, applying more pressure, moaning, kissing, and biting her again.
She pushes her hands against my chest. At first, I think it’s because she wants me to stop. But her muffled moans and her fingernails digging into my pecs tell a different story. She drags her nails down my chest, then grips my sides and smooths her arms around me.
I’m rubbing her pants so fast now, pumping my arm up and down—
Bang-bang. Somebody pounds on the window.
I flinch, spin, shove the door open, and spring out, ready for battle. There’s a moment when I almost assault a police officer. She stands a few feet back, her hand near her hip, looking at me like I’m insane. Terror is evident on her face. She’s probably not much older than Arria.
“You can’t park here,” she says, her hand trembling.
I force a smile onto my face. “Sorry, you startled me. I’ve worked a long shift today. I was sleeping.”
“You can’t sleep here, either.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll move right away, Officer.”
“Are those tints regulation?”
“Yes, officer. I’ve got the paperwork if you want to see it.”
This is a bluff. The tints aren’t regulation, and I’m not even sure there’s paperwork to verify the fact, but she seems relieved to let the issue go. “Just move it along.”
“Yes, Officer, thank you. Sorry if I overreacted.”
She turns and walks away. I close the back door, glad she didn’t look inside and see Arria. The likelihood that she’d recognize me or my niece is low considering her age, but Carusos have dealt with the cops for as long as I can remember. It’s a reminder of how careless that was.
In the driver’s seat, I start the car and pull out of the alleyway. Arria adjusts her clothes and stares out of the window. Her cheeks and her lips are flushed red. She looks so sexy, so vivacious.
Neither of us says anything for a long time. I feel like I’ve taken advantage, though she doesn’t look at me or make any comment to give me that impression.
“It’s probably a good thing we got interrupted,” I mutter. “We don’t need to make this more complicated.”
“Nobody told you to kiss me,” she replies. “But you’re right. The simpler we keep this, the better.”
“You don’t need to get involved with somebody like me. You need a boyfriend your own age, from your own world. Not a—”
“A savior?” she interrupts. “I know you don’t like that nickname, but thinking about it, isn’t that sort of a miracle? That you could exist in Enzo’s world—he’s clearly a creep—and get a nickname based on how good you are?”
“Maybe it is,” I tell her. “But being good in that world and being good aren’t the same. I’m just glad you know what’s at stake now.”
“Can I tell my parents? What if somebody comes after them?”
“They won’t.” In fact, her parents already know about the situation. Part of me wonders if they should have told her the truth. But I figure Rocco is determined to keep his daughter in the dark about his work with mafia.
“How can you know that?” She asks.
“Trust me, remember?”
“Oh, right, blind trust.” She rolls her eyes.