Undressed By The Mafia God novel Chapter 73

Chapter 73: I’m Not God

"That’s not what you said you’d do."

"No," he admitted. "But it’s what you needed."

Vee shrugged, a careless little roll of her shoulders. "So according to Google, orgasm denial is a surefire way to punish a man who thinks he’s God."

"I’m not God," he corrected. "I am the devil."

"In this context," she replied breezily, "same thing."

"Do not let Nonnina hear you say that," he warned. "She’ll light a candle and set you on fire with it." Then his gaze dropped meaningfully to the flimsy tie on his wrist. "So what’s your plan here, Vee? Deny me sex? You’ve been doing that since the day I met you. At this point, I’ve hit a year’s quota of punishments. Untie me."

"I didn’t say sex denial," she said. "I said orgasm denial."

"Vee," he said slowly, "don’t you dare. Don’t."

She climbed onto the mattress anyway, and placed her hands on his chest, pushing him back down. Luca fell against the pillows with a muted huff. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"Would you at least tell me what you’re up to?" he asked.

"Where’s the fun in that?" she smiled.

Her heart was pounding. She could feel it in her throat, in the way her palms tingled where they touched him. Truth was, she had no idea what she was doing. None. She was winging it on audacity and borrowed confidence, testing the waters of a power she wasn’t sure she truly held.

But she needed to know.

Needed to know if Luciano Genovese looked at her like a passing indulgence. If this intensity was temporary. If one day he would get bored, finish whatever game this was, and set her aside.

She’d promised she would have sex with him if he saved her sister. A promise made when fear ruled her mouth and hope made her reckless. He had saved her sister.

And now she owed him.

Luca watched her carefully, eyes dark, assessing. He couldn’t tell whether she was bluffing or brave.

She threw her leg over him. One second he was watching her, the next her weight settled squarely over his groin. Luca cleared his throat, a rough, useless sound meant to disguise the very obvious fact that his body had already betrayed him. He had been hard before she touched him. Before she climbed on the bed.

Before she decided to play god with the devil.

Pathetic.

Her thigh pressed down, testing, grinding just enough to make his jaw tighten. He stared at the ceiling, nostrils flaring, reminding himself that this was ridiculous. He could snap the bindings. He could flip her onto her back. He could end this in seconds.

He didn’t.

She reached up and pulled his already bound arms higher over his head, stretching him, exposing him. The knot was sloppy. Childish. An insult to his experience. And still, he let it hold.

Then she bent.

Her mouth found his chest, lips soft and purposeful, not rushed, not shy. She kissed him. Her tongue followed, dragging heat across his skin before circling his nipple and flicking it.

"Fuck..." he muttered, more breath than word.

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