Reborn To Tempt The Mafia King

LEILA’s POV

My best friend’s father’s lips claimed mine, nibbling on my bottom lip. My hands gripped his biceps faster as I pushed forward, leaning into him.

“S-sir,” I whispered, my voice almost a moan.

His hands slipped to my backside. I arched, my hands now roaming his chest. He groaned into my mouth before he broke the kiss.

He turned me around and bent me over the desk in his study. My breath hitched but the burn skyrocketing through my body made me shiver.

He rolled up my short black dress, the one I had worn to the burial ceremony earlier, exposing my thin thighs.

Goosebumps appeared on my skin as he spanked me hard. “You love that, yeah?”

“Ahhh… Please,” I cried, my voice filling the room.

“Cry. Cry as much as you want. We have the whole house to ourselves.” He spanked me again, the sting sharp and hot, spreading warmth up my spine.

My body trembled, caught between the ache and a strange pull deep inside. I was new to this, untouched before, and every touch felt like fire—painful yet drawing me closer.

He pressed against me from behind, his body hard and warm. His hands gripped my hips, holding me steady as he leaned down.

His breath tickled my ear. “Good girl. Let me take care of you.”

Slowly, he kissed the back of my neck, trailing down my spine. I gasped, my fingers clutching the desk edge. The wood was cool under my palms, grounding me as his lips moved lower.

He knelt behind me, his hands parting my thighs gently but firmly. He rolled down my panties. I felt exposed, my heart racing.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding.

Then his mouth found me there, soft against my core. I jolted, a whimper escaping my lips. It was pleasure like nothing I’d imagined—wet and teasing, his tongue circling slowly. But there was a twinge too, my body unsure, clenching at the new sensation.

“Oh… Sir,” I breathed, my legs shaking. He held me in place, one hand on my thigh, the other stroking my skin.

His tongue pressed deeper, lapping gently, building a heat that made my core throb. Pleasure bloomed, but the slight burn from his earlier spanks lingered, mixing with it all.

I pushed back a little, wanting more, even as tears pricked my eyes from the intensity.

He hummed against me, the vibration sending sparks through my body. My breaths came short, my mind foggy.

This was my first time feeling anything like this, and it overwhelmed me—pain from the unknown fading into waves of warmth.

He sucked lightly, drawing a cry from me, my body arching. “That’s it,” he said, pulling back just enough to speak. “Let go for me.”

I nodded, though he couldn’t see, lost in the rhythm of his mouth. He explored every fold, his tongue firm now, slightly dominant in its control.

Pleasure built higher, coiling tight in my belly, but a sharp pang hit when he nipped gently—pain flashing bright before melting into bliss.

I bit my lip, tasting salt from my tears. It hurt, but I craved it, my virgin body learning to yield.

After what felt like forever, he stood, his hands sliding up my sides. He turned me to face him, eyes dark with want. “On your knees now,” he said softly, but there was no question in his tone.

I sank down, the carpet soft under me, my dress still bunched at my waist. He unbuckled his belt, and I watched, nervous and eager. His length sprang free, hard and ready.

“Open,” he instructed, guiding me with a hand in my hair.

I parted my lips, taking him in slowly. The taste was new—salty, warm—and I moved tentatively, my tongue swirling around the tip.

He groaned, his fingers tightening just enough to guide me. “Like that, Leila. Good.”

I bobbed my head, feeling him fill my mouth, the stretch a little uncomfortable at first. Pleasure for him mirrored in his low sounds, but for me, there was an ache in my jaw, a mix of serving him and the thrill of it.

He rocked gently, dominant but careful, not pushing too far. Tears slipped down my cheeks again, from the effort and the emotions swirling—pain of inexperience, joy in pleasing him.

“Enough,” he rasped after a moment, pulling me up.

He lifted me onto the desk, spreading my legs. His eyes met mine, seeking permission.

I nodded, whispering, “Please, Sir.”

He positioned himself, his length pressing at my core. The first push was slow, stretching me wide. Pain flared sharp, like a tear inside, making me cry out and grip his shoulders.

“Shh, breathe,” he soothed, pausing.

His hand stroked my cheek, thumb wiping a tear. But he didn’t stop, inching deeper with steady dominance. It burned, my body resisting, but pleasure crept in as he filled me completely.

I felt so full, so claimed. He began to move, thrusting gently at first, building rhythm.

The pain ebbed into a deep ache, blending with the growing heat. Each slide sent sparks through me, my core clenching around him.

“You’re mine now,” he growled softly, his pace quickening.

“You love fucking me after watching me bury my wife hours ago?” He asked.

This was shameful but I had to admit. “Y-yes.”

I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer, moans mixing with whimpers. Pleasure overtook, waves crashing as he hit a spot inside that made stars burst behind my eyes.

But the pain lingered faintly. His hand slipped between us, fingers circling my core’s sensitive spot, heightening it all.

I cried out his name as my body trembled.

He thrust harder, dominant groans filling the air, until the tension snapped. I exploded, my core pulsing around him, tears flowing free.

He followed soon, burying deep with a final groan, warmth spilling inside me.

We stayed like that, panting, his forehead against mine.

The pain faded to a dull throb, leaving only fullness and connection.

He raised his head, locking his eyes with mine. A smile spread on my lips. But his gaze darkened. And instead of kissing me, he pulled away.

“You’ve pleased me, already. Now, get out!”