AUCTIONED TO HER DAD’S MAFIA ENEMIES: A MAFIA AGE-GAP REVERSE HAREM ROMANCE (AUCTIONED SERIES Book 4)

DADDY’S LITTLE PRINCESS

Aemelia trembles in my arms as I whisper the words that will expose my darkest desires, and I wait for her response; for the moment she’ll either surrender to me completely or fight against what we both know she craves.

She’s been standing on her own for so long, abandoned by the one man who should have protected her. Her father left her in the hands of his enemies, and she’s had to survive in a world that has shown her no mercy. But I want her to know she doesn’t have to be strong all the time—not with me.

I want her on her knees. I want her to trust me enough to break for me, to let me be the one who takes care of her, cherishes her, and shields her from the rest of the world until the end of my days. Just the feel of her tucked against my chest, her warmth sinking into me, is enough to unravel me.

Every second that ticks by feels like an eternity, the air between us static with anticipation. The room closes around me, my heart a drum pounding in my ears. Will she say it? Will she give me what I need?

“Please, Daddy,” she whispers, her body melting against mine, handing over the last of her resistance as I close my eyes, letting her submission seep inside me, groaning low and deep like a man on the brink of madness.

I was right. From the moment I saw her across the room at my sister’s wedding, I could sense we were made for each other. I knew she’d burn my restraint to the ground. She’s been the fire in my veins ever since.

Releasing her wrists, I bring each one to my lips, kissing softly over the delicate skin where my grip might have bruised, finding the heart birthmark that started this whole thing.

“Amuri miu,” I mouth against her skin, over and over, branding her with my words. I cradle her face in my hands and stare into her eyes. “I know what you need,” I tell her. “I know how to take away the noise in your head. Submit to me, and everything will be better. I will tear the fabric of the world apart to keep you safe.”

She closes her beautiful dark eyes as I kiss her, keeping it slow and chaste, making her ache for more. When she’s pliant, whimpering against my lips, I pull back. “Put this hand around my neck and this one on my knee.”

She obeys without hesitation.

“Now, open your legs for me, sweet girl. Open your legs for Daddy.”

In her pink nightgown, she’s every man’s dream, but especially mine. Delicate yet willing, her body trembles beneath my hands. Her eyes are wide, watching as I slide my palm up the inside of her thigh, relishing the warmth of her skin. She spreads her legs wider at my urging, jerking when I stroke the tips of my fingers over her panties, the damp heat against my touch igniting all that is feral inside me.

It would be so easy to flip her onto the bed, yank her underwear aside, and take her until I explode, but that’s not what I want.

This first time, I want to make memories. I want to teach my sweet baby girl what it takes to sleep in my bed every night… what it means to belong to me.

Because she will. By the time we’re done, there will be nothing for her to go back to that will ever be better than what she has here.

The Lambrettis will blame her for Enzo’s death, her mother and brother will drain her dry if she lets them, but I won’t allow that. She belongs to me.

I drag my fingers higher, pressing against her clit, circling with the lightest touch as she lets her legs drop open further and arches her spine.

“Does that feel good, kitten?” I whisper. “Do you like it when I touch you?”

“Yes,” she breathes. “I like it.”

I slip beneath the lace of her panties, finding her soaked for me, stroking, teasing, pushing her to the edge before withdrawing, savoring the way her body jerks with need.

“This… what we’re doing, it’s a game I like to play. Do you understand?”noveldrama

She nods, her lashes heavy with arousal and submission. I palm her breast and pinch her tight little nipple, hungry to discover every part of her. “If you want me to stop, just tell me… say fermariand the game will be over.”

Another nod. A promise unspoken. I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Now, get on your knees, Aemelia. Get on your knees for Daddy. Show me what a good girl you are.”

I brace myself for hesitation, for the lingering defiance I saw in her eyes during those first days when I spanked her sweet ass, made her kiss my feet, and touched her without permission. But there is none. This time, she slides to the floor without a trace of hatred or reluctance, her palms resting on the ground, her wide eyes full of trust and need. I touch her cheek with the fingers that smell of her and spread my legs. “Take me out,” I command. “See what you’ve done to me.”

Her nimble fingers make quick work of the belt, my button, my zipper, her touch hesitant but eager. She pauses at my boxer briefs, tracing the rigid outline of my straining cock.

“See what you did. See what touching your pretty pussy does to me.”

Her tongue swipes over her bottom lip as I reach to palm my dick. It aches in my grip, the skin stretched tight, engorged with blood and heat. At the top, a pearl waits for her tongue.

“Look at what you do to me, sweet girl,” I rasp, fisting myself roughly. “You make me so hard, kitten. You make me lose my fucking mind.”

As I stroke my cock harshly, she watches. “Give me your hand.”

Her dark eyes flick to mine, searching. Then she shakes her head just a little. Oh, Aemelia. How perfect you are, waiting for my order. “Give it to me.”

She lifts her right hand from the floor slowly, reluctantly, playing my little game in a way I didn’t expect. I take it roughly, pressing her palm to my fabric-covered thigh, sliding it up and up until she’s close to my dick. “You want to make me feel good, don’t you, princess? Like I’m going to make you feel good.”

Taking the tip of her index finger, I coat it with my arousal and rub it over her lip. “Taste me.” My dick thickens as she licks her bottom lip. “Now, touch me.”

I curl her fingers around my shaft, the first touch of her small, warm hand like a lick over my balls. Showing her how tight to hold me, I move her hand up and down in long, hard strokes, twisting on the way up and down. “No,” she whispers, a fragile protest. “I don’t want to.”

But her hand doesn’t stop. And she doesn’t say the safe word.

She’s mesmerized, her fingers moving over me, and I feel the victory settle deep in my bones.

“Your mouth. Give me your mouth.” I cup the back of her neck, tugging her closer. “Open.”

She obeys, and I guide her, pressing the thick head of my cock against the flat of her waiting tongue. Like she understands the complex tapestry of my black heart, she remains still, waiting. Her warm breath gusts over the head, and I close my eyes, forcing myself to remain in the moment before.

“Such a good girl,” I praise, my voice tight with restraint. “Now suck.”

The wet heat of her mouth is perfect, a slow, torturous slide that has me groaning. She learns quickly, working me over, and I take a mental picture of this moment, knowing I’ll never forget it.

“Eyes on me, Aemelia,” I hiss, the clasp of her lips a perfect pressure. Slow, up and down movements draw my belly and balls tight.

“Good,” I growl. “So good, kitten. You know just how to make Daddy feel good.”

As I tip my head back, relaxing into the slow slide of her mouth, the door to the penthouse slams close, and footsteps thud against the marble.

“Luca?” Antonio’s deep voice thunders through the space, cutting into my pleasure.

“In here.”

Aemelia stiffens, but I keep my grip firm, holding her in place. “Don’t stop,” I order. She hesitates for a moment, then continues as Antonio enters the room. When he takes in the sight of Aemelia on her knees between my wide-spread legs, his confident stride falters, and confusion flickers over his expression. Behind him, Alexis comes to a halt, but he’s quicker to regain his composure and quicker to smile.

“What is it?” I ask, my voice calm and controlled. Aemelia continues her work, seemingly unaffected, but I know differently. She’ll be wet between her thighs, dripping at the thought of my brothers watching us.

Antonio’s posture stiffens like a metal rod is forced through his spinal column. “Who shall I send?” he asks.

I rattle off eight names—our most reliable men and our maternal cousin, who’s known only as il coltello. Pleasure builds, but I hold myself rigid against the urge to shift my hips, to thrust, to arch my spine and empty deep in Aemelia’s throat.

“Tonight?” Alexis asks.

“Now,” I say. “They take him to the cellars and keep him there until I’m ready to take my revenge. We send a message that no one comes for our precious girl.” I stroke Aemelia’s hair, and she hums around my dick. I watch my brothers shift, their cocks already hard, tenting the front of their pants as they focus on Aemelia.

“Give the orders,” I say. “Then come back. Our little mafia princess needs all her kings around her.”

As they reluctantly leave to handle business, I tip Aemelia’s chin, drawing her away. My dick is glossy with her spit and dark with arousal. “You did so well,” I tell her. “That can’t have been easy, knowing you were being watched.”

“I liked it,” she whispers, her cheeks pink. “I liked their eyes on me.”

Of course, she did. I bend to kiss her, all deep tongue and urgency, and then I pull back, leaving her panting.

“When they come back, do you want them to watch, or more? They can touch you, lick you, fuck you. Whatever you want, we’ll give it to you.”

She rests her hand on my thigh, her eyes closing like she needs the safety of the dark behind her eyelids to consider my question. She’s so pretty that looking at her, taking in her beauty is light forcing its way through cracked walls.

“I want you all,” she says, “but how?”

“You don’t need to worry about anything, my sweet, innocent girl. Let us take care of you. And any time it gets too much, and you want to stop, all you have to do is say fermari, remember, and we’ll stop. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Come sit on my knee.”

She rises demurely and settles into the space she rested in before, her face buried in my neck. I stroke her arm and link my fingers with hers. She wears no rings, and her ears carry no jewels. This life hasn’t been fair to her, taking her wealth, her status, her dignity, delivering little of the kind of love she deserves, but I resolve to make it right.

“Understand something, Aemelia. You belong to me,” I say, gripping her jaw fiercely. “Every inch of you, from the tip of your pretty tongue to the soles of your feet. Mine to touch. Mine to worship. Mine to ruin.”

Her whimper of agreement is all I need to hear.

Once upon a time, Aemelia Lambretti was a mafia princess. Now I’m going to make her a queen.