Undressed By The Mafia God novel Chapter 299

Chapter 299: You’re Doing Good

With a final, lingering glance at her in the mirror, Luca dipped his fingers down the waistband of her jeans.

"I plan on doing something I always wanted to do," he said.

"You need to get ready for dinner," Vee replied.

"Then make it quick."

"Make it quick? How is that—"

His hands found the waistband of her jeans.

"Luca—"

He pulled her jeans and underwear down her legs.

"—up to me," she finished, with significantly less conviction than she’d started with.

"Because I need you to cum first." The logic of this was self-evident and the remaining steps were simply administrative.

She stared at him in the mirror. He reached for the hem of her shirt. She raised her arms. She wasn’t entirely sure when she decided to raise her arms. They simply went up. Her shirt came over her head and joined whatever dimension discarded clothing went to in his presence. Her bra followed.

His hands came forward and found her breasts. And then he simply — looked at her. At her reflection in the mirror. At the full picture of her, his hands cupping her breasts. His eyes moved over her in the glass.

She could see everything. His hands. Her face. The slight parting of her lips. He stroked both nipples simultaneously.

Her breath changed. He squeezed both breasts — gently, with a calibrated pressure, stroking in slow, parallel circles that produced a very specific response in her nerve endings and a very visible one in her expression.

He watched her face in the mirror while he did it. He kissed the back of her neck. She felt the warmth of his mouth against her skin and felt her eyes begin a slow, involuntary journey toward closed.

One hand left her breast. Travelled down. Past her stomach, past her hip, finding the space between her thighs and located her clit.

He applied pressure. Enough. Just enough. Vee lurched forward. Her thighs clenched around his hand. Both hands found the dresser, bracing against it.

"Luca..."

His eyes found hers in the mirror. "Right there, uhn?"

"Yes," she managed.

His fingers maintained exactly the pressure that had produced the previous response, neither increasing nor relenting — holding her precisely at the threshold he had located and declining to move her from it until he decided to. "More?" he asked.

"Yeah."

He gave her more. He slipped his fingers inside her. The shift from external to internal was abrupt enough to produce a sound she hadn’t prepared for, her grip on the dresser tightening. He stayed there for a moment. A few strokes, finding his bearings.

Oh.