Make Me Moan, Daddy-Chapter 10

DOMENICO’POV

The water in the pool had never felt hotter against my skin, or maybe it was just her memory that set me ablaze.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her, I fucking saw her because she’s everywhere in my head.

The way her hair clung to her wet shoulders, the arch of her back when I had my tongue buried deep in her pussy, the shiver that ran through her body when I tasted her beneath the water.

Even now, after she ran away, I could still smell her, the faint, intoxicating mix of her shampoo and skin lingering in my senses. Refusing to wash away.

By the time I reached the edge of the pool, my cock was already hard, straining against the fabric of my trunks. I could not wait. I slipped out of the water, ignoring the chill of the night air.

My home office beckoned, the quiet click of the door behind me a signal that I was alone, free to indulge in thoughts I shouldn’t have. I closed the blinds. Darkness wrapped around me, and I let my hand find her scent on my fingers.

I thought of her mouth, the way she moaned my name, the heat in her eyes when she struggled to stay quiet while her husband was near.

My palm gripped harder, and I could not hold back. Every stroke was faster, harder, fueled by the memory of her begging, her soft, filthy pleas, and the wicked thrill of my own power. She belonged to my son, and yet, for these moments, I could imagine she was mine.

I could imagine she was all mine that I knew her first.

I dipped a finger into the wetness still on my hand, curling it around my cock and dragging it over the swollen head. I brought it to my mouth and sucked, tasting her. Warm, sticky, sweet, the taste clinging to my tongue, making my knees weak.

My free hand stroked the shaft slowly, teasing, circling, squeezing, every movement making me groan low in my throat.

"Reina..." I whispered, voice rough and hoarse. "You taste so good... so fucking mine..."

My hips rolled against my hand, jerking, my fingers curling around the tip, flicking it, teasing it. I dragged her cum down the length of my cock again, coating myself, letting the slick from her fingers mix with the wetness on my shaft. I couldn’t stop. Every nerve ending was alive, every pulse feeding my obsession.

I leaned back against the wall, dragging my thumb over the tip, pressing the head, rolling it, teasing it, while my other hand brought her taste to my lips again. I sucked and licked, moaning her name louder, letting the sound echo through the empty house.

"Fuck... Reina... you’re mine... I swear I’m going to make you all mine..." My voice broke, high and ragged, my cock throbbing violently under my palm.

I could feel the tension building, the ache coiling tight in my balls, and I stroked faster, harder, rolling the head under my fingertips, flicking it, dragging the slick over the sensitive slit.

I grunted, pressed my hips into the motion, curling my fingers around the shaft as my other hand teased her from my lips to my cock, tasting every drop. My moans grew louder, filthy, desperate, each one a promise, a claim.

"Ah... god... Reina..." I cried, voice shaking, hips bucking violently. "So wet... so perfect... mine..." I pressed my palm harder to the base, curling the fingers around the tip, stroking, dragging, teasing, sucking her cum off my fingers again imagining she was still here, moaning as the taste coated me.

Every pulse of my cock made me grunt, moan, whisper her name, my body trembling under the intensity.

I felt myself climbing, every stroke sharper, tighter, every flick of my thumb against the head sending shocks through my spine.

"Fuck... fucking fuck... Reina... you’re killing me." I whispered again, voice breaking, trembling with need. I leaned forward, pressed the tip against my palm, flicking it, rolling it, dragging the slick over every inch, imagining she was the one doing this to me and not my hand.

And then I came. Hard. Violently. My cock throbbed, my hands shaking, my body quivering as thick, hot spurts coated my palm, mixed with the taste of her still clinging to my fingers.

"Fucking dammit!"

I groaned, head thrown back, gasping, hips bucking slightly as the aftershocks rolled through me, every nerve ending alive, raw, desperate. I pressed her taste to my lips one last time, licking every drop off my fingers, tasting her, needing her, aching for her again. And fucking again.

I cleaned myself as best I could, swallowing the last traces from my fingers, smoothing the slick over my shaft, already imagining her trembling beneath me, wet, begging, moaning my name.

My cock twitched faintly beneath the fabric of my trousers even as I got dressed, still pulsing with desire. Soon, she would be mine again, all mine, and Paolo would be gone. I would make him go away so it would be just us.

The office door clicked. Paolo. Standing there as if he could hear me thinking about him, about driving him away, eyes sharp, careful, aware of the tension radiating from me.

Fear and respect rolled off him like heat. He had the right mix—obedience, caution, awareness. I smiled, small, satisfied. Perfect.

"Father," he said, his voice steady, careful. Respectful, yes, but laced with the ease of familiarity.

He knew the fear he owed me, and he balanced it with the right measure of casual tone, a necessary skill in this family.

I straightened my shirt, trying to mask the lingering flush, and gestured for him to sit. "Have a seat, Paolo. We have things to discuss."

He nodded and settled across from me, the weight of expectation heavy between us. "Shipments?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

"Yes. The cops have been sniffing too close for comfort. That’s one problem. The second is the one who has been fucking with us. The same cop I told you to handle." I leaned forward, my eyes darkening. "Why hasn’t he been taken care of yet?"

Paolo’s jaw tightened. "He’s careful, Father. I’ve been—planning. Waiting for the right moment."

"Planning?" I scoffed, though not unkindly. I wanted to see him squirm, a little. "You’ve been planning while he laughs at us and fucked with our business? You think the Omerta boys will wait while we’re distracted? No, Paolo. That is your job. That cop—he will not survive another delay."

"Yes, Father. It won’t happen again." Paolo’s tone was calm, but I could hear the fear beneath it. He respected me enough to obey without question, and feared me enough that disobedience carried real weight. Perfect.

I studied him for a long moment, thinking of Reina, thinking of how much I wanted her alone. My cock twitched again, remembering the feel of her in my hands, her lips desperate for my touch. For a moment, the thought of removing Paolo from the picture entirely whispered seductively in my mind. A fleeting fantasy. But I was smarter than that. I could not destroy my son—not yet.

I needed another way. Something to take him away long enough to enjoy her without consequence.

"I want you gone," I said finally, letting my voice remain calm, authoritative. "New York. The Marino family is in transition. The new Don has been selected, ambitious. I want you to secure an alliance, ensure Renato Marino’s support before you come back."

Paolo blinked, surprised but composed. "New York, Father?"

"Yes. You’ll leave in two days. Take your men. Make sure our interests are protected, and do not return until the deal is solid. Understood?"

"Understood, Father. I will make sure everything goes smoothly." His respect for me was palpable, his obedience absolute, and yet there was a trace of awe that made my chest swell. He feared me. He respected me. And he would be gone, leaving her for me, even if only for a few days.

That should be enough, right? Only that it’s not.

"Good," I said, leaning back, letting my mind drift to her again. "While you’re away, I’ll take care of other... personal matters. You will have to trust me to do everything you can’t, right, son?"

He nodded, a faint tension in his shoulders. "I trust you, Father. Always. I know you have my back."

The words sent a shiver down my spine, but it was not the fear that thrilled me—it was the dark, wicked pleasure of having her all to myself, even for a fleeting moment.

I imagined her kneeling, her hands clutching at my hips, begging me for mercy I had no intention of giving. Her eyes wide, pleading, but I would be patient. I had all the time I needed, now.

"What about other updates?" I asked, bringing my focus back to the business at hand. "Everything in order?"

"Yes. The docks have been quiet. Except for the usual inspections. Nothing we cannot handle." He paused, studying me, and I could see him weighing his words. "And the men you sent to the southern routes—they report nothing unusual."

I nodded, satisfied. "Good. And the Dark brothers?" I asked again, a dangerous edge in my tone. "Do not fail me."

"I won’t," he replied, firm. "They will be handled. When the time is right."

"Time is now, Paolo. Do not test me. The moment you delay again, there will be consequences you cannot imagine." I let my words hang, letting the threat settle over him like a shadow. It always worked. It always made him listen. Because he had always wanted my approval. He would not act out of line.

He swallowed, eyes locked on mine. "Understood, Father."

"Good." I leaned back in my chair, letting the heat of my earlier indulgence linger, my mind once more on her. I didn’t know why I can’t stop thinking about her. I should really punish her for messing with my head.

I watched my son rise, straightening his shirt, preparing to leave. "Two days" I reminded him. "Do not be late. And do not underestimate the head of the Marino family."

Paolo nodded, his respect—and fear—unmistakable. "I will not, Father. You will hear from me soon."

As he left, the weight of control settled over me like a cloak. Alone now, I allowed myself another thought of her, the heat returning, sharper, sharper than ever. She would be mine again, and there would be no interruptions, no eyes watching, no obligations.

Only her, only me, and the delicious, forbidden pleasure that I had been craving since she ran from me.

The house was quiet once more, the faint scent of her lingering in the air, and I could not help but smile. Soon, very soon, she would be back in my arms, trembling, needy, and utterly, completely mine.