Romans & histoires The Mafia Nanny Kiss

I slide my hand down to his thigh, gently but assertively awakening his manhood. “Lily, you’re back.” His mouth trails down my neck and to my bosom and I let him take me, roam me and mark me. His touch ignites a fire within me and I part my thighs for him. Let him think I am Lily, it does not matter. What matters is I will be the one carrying his child, the future heir to the mafia world. What matters is, I will be the one who will walk away with what I want. I’m sorry sister, but what matters is Kane is mine.

Katelyn was starting to squirm and finding it difficult to talk. Suddenly, she felt Hayley's beautiful mouth close over her pussy, and she had to put her hand over the mouthpiece as she gasped. Hayley kissed her pussy and gently licked her clit. It was difficult to concentrate on what Mike was saying. "What about the nanny?" Mike was asking. "Are you continuing to be satisfied with her?" "Yes," Katelyn said almost breathlessly. "The nanny has me very satisfied."

***Sensual Sounds.**** I can’t think straight now. I don’t know whether what I did and said there was mature or childish. Do I really hate him? I ask myself as I race up the stairs of our dormitory. My heart picks up race too, slamming against the walls of my chest. The man who stole my first kiss kissed me again. The man in my wet dreams has countless times said that I belong to him. The man who happens to be a mafia…a Russian mafia just admitted he's been stalking me. I can’t believe this. That means he was the one that was watching me all those while.

“I know this is a lot to take in. But I need you to understand something: I’m not just looking for a nanny. I need someone who can protect her, who can be there for her. My world isn’t easy, and I want you to know the gravity of this role.” His words sent a chill down my spine, reminding me how stupid I was to agree to this. “What do you do?” I asked quietly, although I already had an inclination. “I think you already know,” he replied just as quietly as I did. I gulped. He was in the mafia. And with the looks of it, he was most likely a don. “I understand,” I replied, my voice steady. “I’ll do my best to ensure Francesca feels safe.” He nodded, a flicker of approval crossing his features. “

No one… except for one name: Salvador. Her grandfather's closest friend, Don Augusto Salvador, had stepped in. A quiet but powerful man in the business world, respected and feared in equal measure. His offer was simple—too simple. “My grandson needs a wife. Your granddaughter needs saving. Let’s restore what was lost—for both our families.” And just like that, the terms were set. No dowry, no courtship, no love. Just a name for a name. A Narciso for a Salvador. Tymm had said no, of course. She cried. Screamed. Begged. Told her grandfather she couldn’t marry a stranger—especially not Harrison Salvador.

I relaxed and grabbed her gently, she kissed me again and I kissed her back. The Mafia king King Dominic let a girl kiss him and he kissed her, I don't know if it's the alcohol but he kissed her. He Kissed her back.

Three years later, I returned to New York on my husband's arm. We were there on family business. Dante was called away for something urgent, leaving me to wait for him at his private club. I never expected to run into Joey, the man I hadn't seen in three years. "That's enough, Adriana. Stop with the childish tantrums." "Our son Angelo's almost six. He needs care. I'm being generous, offering you a position as his nanny." I laughed. What was this idiot talking about? He was calling the most feared and revered Donna in all of New York a nanny?

She asked. “The accent is still there, I can hear it. I am also American so I can hear it in your words,” “You know what they say, you can take a villager out of the village but you can't take the village out of a villager,” She shrugged her shoulders, her smile still on her lips. Which makes her cuter and beautiful. I said it, it was part of their requirements for mafia members. Because why are they all beautiful? Someone's sexuality can be questioned if they were all in one room.

I thought he was going to yell but then he continued down the stairs, past the mess, past me, and out through the front doors without a word. I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. The maid beside me exhaled too. "You're lucky," she whispered, barely audible. "Lucky how?" She shook her head quickly and went back to sweeping, like she'd already said too much. *** On the sixth day, the young maid who had almost smiled at me in the hallway sat across from me at the staff table at lunch. Her name was Rina. Twenty years old. Two years at the estate.