Elena couldn’t stay away. Three days after her first night in Luca Moretti’s penthouse, she found herself back at the private elevator, heart racing and p***y already wet. Her husband thought she was at a yoga class. Instead, she was here to get f****d senseless by the mafia boss who now owned her body. She wore a short red dress with nothing underneath.
The elevator doors opened straight into the penthouse. Luca was waiting on the couch, looking powerful in a black shirt. Four of his men stood around the room, dangerous-looking guys who eyed her like fresh meat.
“You came back fast, Elena,” Luca said with a dark smile. “Couldn’t get enough of this c**k, could you?”
Elena’s cheeks burned, but her n*****s were hard and her thighs were slick. “I… I needed it,” she admitted quietly.
Luca
