Page 25 of The Mobster’s Present

CHAPTER 9

ASHLEIGH

The water is the perfect temperature as it runs down my body as I say a silent thank you that I’m not showering, again, at the hospital. The pipes are nothing to write home about. Not that I would complain about it considering my comfort is not the priority.

That doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy the luxury that’s been handed to me in the form of a hotel and amazing water pressure. Everything already stocked in the bathroom smells amazing and is probably more expensive than I want to think about. It’s better that way.

I feel him before I hear him.

Salvatore.

I don’t fully understand this man and what he wants from me. Why doesn’t he look at me like just another struggling single mom? Why does he look at me like he wants to cherish me for the rest of his life?

It’s disarming and I’m not sure how I feel about him breaking through all my defenses. He simply keeps showing up and saying things that leave no room for doubt or for things to turn out any other way.

Part of me wants to bristle every time he does it, but the part of me that wants to be taken care of, that wants to be able to live life without worry, reminds me not to be a martyr. What good would that do? How would it help Oriana?

Salvatore’s large hands land on my hips and his fingers flex there as he grips me tightly. I look at him over my shoulder to find his dark eyes locked on me. The hunger there is easy for him to see.

“Morning,” his voice is still raspy from sleep, “I don’t like waking up without you next to me.”

The water sliding over his skin, taunt with strength, is distracting as hell. The man is too tempting.

He presses his front against my back and the hard length of his cock slides between the globes of my ass. There’s a warning in his voice, “Don’t do it again.”

“I can’t promise that,” I tease him, “not when a three-year-old is involved.”

“Fine,” he concedes as he buries his face against the column of my neck. “Only if you’re getting out of bed because of Oriana.” He says it like he truly believes he’s making that concession for me, and that it pains him to do so.

While keeping one of his hands at my hip, he lays the other between my shoulder blades and presses me forward against the tiles which are thankfully warm from the heat of the shower. The sound of primal satisfaction that comes from his throat has me getting even wetter even though I’m already dripping for him.

“Don’t move.” There’s nothing threatening in his voice, but my body stills and everything in me goes on high-alert. It’s the moment when the prey realizes they’re in a predator’s sights.

I don’t think I’ve been more turned on in my life than I have since I met Salvatore. Everything the man does is designed to tempt me and remind me of how good he feels, and how hard he can make me come. He’s not even trying to do it, which only makes it more infuriating.

“Breakfast will be delivered any moment,” his lips brush against my skin with his words. “I’ve also had something sent to Oriana and Carlotta.”

At the mention of Oriana, a pang of guilt hits me. I shouldn’t have left her alone last night with someone I don’t even know.

With Beth it was different, she’d been one of the nurses taking care of her since this whole mess began. The only reason I was able to leave last night was because Salvatore was so sure about Carlotta and that everything would be fine. I doubt he would have let me get away with turning down the hotel room.

The man doesn’t really persuade, he just does and, somehow, I go along with him.

Still, I know if it was really important, and I told him as much, that he would listen to me.

Now, though, I’m not sure if I made the right choice last night. Though, not sleeping on that pull-out was amazing.

“You’re thinking too much,” he grits the words out through his teeth while he grips the base of his cock and slides the crown through my arousal. He lets out a low grunt when he notches at my entrance and starts to push in slowly. “Always ready for me,” he praises and I fucking preen.

Who the fuck am I right now?

He moves slowly.

Too slowly.

Every glide is intention. Pulling free until just the head remains. Sliding deep until all I can feel is him.

The control in his touch and movements has my mind fracturing. My body strains to push back against him, but he holds me in place. When my walls clench around him, he lets out a chuckle that is all smoke and danger.