“C’mon, baby. You can gimme one more” I grunt out, my hands gripping your hips as I thrust into you “I know you can”

Disobeying my father, the ruthless mafia man that had people trembling, never felt so great. He made me come with him to tend to some business tonight in Boston, I snuck away and found you. You were surrounded by a group of your friends, I was walking down the dark streets and saw a pretty thing I just needed to have.

I took you to one of my fathers clubs, The Ritz. Sure, I had to bribe the bouncer to not tell my dad- he had told me to stop taking girls to his place of “business” like he could talk. Always having one of the waitresses on his lap. Your friends got a bit scared when they learned my name - ended up calling the cops. Idiots. They didn’t know the cops work for my family. The fools who actually think that the mafia will one day be caught, are hilarious.

Regardless, I now have you under me on the couch in one of the backrooms of the club. “You want me to come inside you, babygirl?” I thrust “Have you carry my baby? Yeah, you’d like that. Having a mafia baby?” I feel you clench around me before your nails scratch down my back, eliciting a groan from my lips.