Mafia Kings: Dario: Chapter 22

I slowly carried the tray up the stairs. I was so nervous that the espresso cup rattled slightly in its saucer.

I got to the second floor… held my breath… and started walking down the hall to the left.

I just knew at any second that Niccolo was going to jump out of the shadows, point at me, and yell, “AHA!”

The closer I got to the end of the eastern wing, the harder my heart thudded in my chest.

When I finally reached the closed door at the end of the hallway, I rapped on it lightly.

“H-hello?”

No answer.

I knocked a little harder.

“…hello?”

I looked behind me down the hall.

No one was there.

And Caterina said to deliver it to the room, so…

I turned the knob and the door opened.

I stood there in shock as I stared at a truly magnificent bedroom.

It was larger than any other room in the house except for the dining room.

There was a king-sized canopy bed to my left. Gauzy curtains hung down all around it, and the comforter was pulled back over rumpled sheets.

Masterpieces from Italian Renaissance painters hung on the walls.

Thick Arabian rugs covered the hardwood floors.

There were several mahogany wardrobes and a matching desk in the corner.

And a twenty-foot section of the wall had French doors that looked out on a massive balcony. Beyond that was a gorgeous view of the vineyards and orchards.

My bedroom was nice, but this… this looked like it belonged to a king.

I stood there staring at the opulence of it all…

And suddenly realized why Dario hadn’t answered my knocking.

I could hear the shhhhhh of a shower from behind a half-closed door to my right.

I swallowed hard.

Just put the tray down on the desk over there and walk out, I told myself.

But another little voice – a tiny devil on my shoulder – whispered in my ear.

You can look!

One tiny peek can’t hurt…

You probably won’t see anything, anyway.

Once I set the tray on the desk, my feet carried me over to the door like a sleepwalker.

The shower was louder now as I peeked through the half-open door.

The room was beautiful, full of marble and gold –

But that wasn’t what I looked at.

Halfway across the bathroom was a giant cube with walls of glass…

And Dario stood naked in the middle, his face held up to the spray of water.

My mouth dropped open.

He was absolutely gorgeous.

It was like looking at a Greek god.

Or an Italian one.

A god, anyway.

Albeit one with tattoos all over.

His shoulders were so broad… his chest so powerful…

His biceps were so big that they strained against his olive skin.

His body was all muscle. His stomach was ribbed like a washboard – a six-pack, I think the Americans call it.

And then my eyes dropped even further –

And I gasped.

I had seen a couple of penises in my life – boys swimming in the river near Mensano when I was a teenager. Theirs had been small.

Dario’s was not small.

It dangled long and thick between his muscular thighs as water cascaded off it.

When he moved, it swung slowly. I could tell it would be heavy if I held it in my hand.

And at the thought of that –

Of me holding it in my hand –

Caressing it…

Stroking it…

Kissing it…

I nearly started hyperventilating.

Everywhere he’d touched me last night –

My pussy, I thought guiltily, still not used to the word –

Felt like it was on fire.

Pleasurable fire, but on fire nonetheless.

But how could it be on fire when I was suddenly so wet?

Suddenly Dario wiped the water from his eyes and turned towards me.

I freaked out.

I don’t know if he saw me, but I turned and ran out of the bedroom as fast as I could.

I sped down the hallway, raced down the stairs, and made a beeline straight for the kitchen.

I wasn’t thinking. All I knew was that I had to return to something normal, to something familiar – and Cat was the closest thing to normal and familiar that I had.

As soon as I walked in, she turned to me. “Ah, so you didn’t die!”

I shook my head no as I sat on one of the stools by the central island.

“Did you see Don Rosolini?” she asked as she went back to cutting strawberries.

“…sort of,” I said in a squeaky little voice.

Cat looked over at me with a frown. “What happened?”

“Nothing!” I said quickly.

She put down the knife. “Spill,” she ordered.

I put my head in my hands, overcome with shame. “I… heard the shower in the bathroom…”

She gasped. “YOU WENT OVER THERE AND LOOKED?!”

Still hiding my face with my hands, I nodded.

“Oh my GOD, you ARE a little pervert!” she cackled. “If there’s something you shouldn’t look at, you just go right for it, don’t you?”

Then she paused.

“Wait… did you see Don Rosolini NAKED?” she whispered.

I peeked one eye out from between my fingers… and nodded.

“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!” she shrieked.

“Shhhhh!” I said, trying to quiet her.

She raced over next to me and grabbed my hands. “What did he look like?” she whispered, her face only a few inches from mine.

My eyes closed involuntarily for a second. “Like a Greek god…”

“Unh!” she murmured, biting her lip. “Valentino’s incredibly hot, but I mean… Don Rosolini… oh my god, I’m so jealous.” She grinned and whispered, “Was he… big?”

I stared at her. “I… guess?”

“Oh, yeah, you wouldn’t really know, would you?”

“How big is it normally?” I asked innocently.

“Ask any man and he’ll tell you he’s at least two inches bigger than he actually is. But I’ve seen a few in my time, so…”

She went back over to the bowl and pulled out a hunk of dough that she rolled into a tube maybe three inches long. “I’d say they’re about that big when they’re soft – and probably double that when they’re hard.”

I stared at her. “They get hard?”

She laughed. “Well, of course they do! Otherwise, how would you get it in your pussy? It’d be like trying to stick an overcooked piece of spaghetti in a hole.”

I hadn’t thought of that.

She grinned, reached out for the nearest fruit bowl, and seized a large banana. “Valentino’s a lot bigger than your average guy. Yeah… that’s about right,” she said as she circled her fingers around the banana.

Then she looked at me gleefully. “So… how big was Don Rosolini?”

I raised an eyebrow at the banana, which was so firm that it didn’t seem to be a good comparison.

“Hand me the bowl of dough,” I said.

She pushed it over eagerly and watched as I scooped out a couple of handfuls and started rolling them into one long tube.

I paused… then added some more dough and rolled.

Then added a little bit more.

“Jesus!” Cat exclaimed. “What the hell, was he jerking off in the shower?”

“…what?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you don’t know about – never mind, of course you don’t. Jerking off is when a guy is stroking his own dick,” she said as she moved her hand through the air.

“Would it have been hard if he was… jerking off?”

She laughed. “Yes.”

“Then he wasn’t jerking off.”

Cat stared at me –

Then looked down at the cylinder of dough in my hand.

“OH MY GOD!” she cried out, then began fanning herself with one hand.

“What?!”

“He’s really hung!” she whispered. “Madonn…”

“Is that… good?” I asked, seriously bewildered.

“I wouldn’t mind finding out!” Cat said with a snort.

For some reason, I felt a stab of jealousy when she said it.

You already have Valentino, I wanted to snap.

Suddenly there was a sharp knock behind me.

Both Cat and I jumped in fright.

I whirled around to see Valentino at the doorway, smirking. “What are you two talking about?”

The blood rushed to my cheeks. “NOTHING!”

“Nothing!” Cat yelped at the same time, though not as loud as me.

Valentino raised one eyebrow as he looked back and forth between me and Cat.

Then he glanced down at the counter in front of me.

I looked down to see what he was looking at –

And saw the long tube of dough.

I hastily pounded it with one fist and smashed it all together.

“Just making bread! Ha ha!” I said, forcing a laugh that made me sound crazy.

Valentino frowned at how strange I was acting, then jerked his head back towards the hallway. “Dario wants to see you.”

I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe.

I looked around at Cat in a panic –

And her hand flew up to her mouth in shock.

“W-w-why?” I stuttered.

“Who knows,” Valentino said as he strolled past me and went over to Cat.

“Where is he?” I asked, then added hopefully, “His study?”

“No, his bedroom,” he said as he took a piece of strawberry off the cutting board, threw it in the air, and caught it in his mouth.

I was nearly out of my mind with panic.

I looked over at Cat in desperation –

And her mouth dropped open in the biggest grin I’ve ever seen, like she was about to cheer.

She immediately went back to normal (to hide her excitement) when Valentino finished eating his strawberry.

Then she suddenly looked shocked.

She glared at Valentino like, What the hell are you DOING?!

I couldn’t see because he was standing right next to her, but I would have bet money that his hand was on her ass.

He just ignored her like nothing unusual was going on.

“Well?” he asked as he looked at me.

“W-well what?”

Cat made a little eep! noise and grasped the edge of the counter.

I was betting Valentino’s hand had traveled somewhere else…

But he still didn’t let on that anything was amiss.

“Shouldn’t you go?” he asked, pointing at the door with his free hand.

God only knows what he was doing to Cat with the other one.

“Uh… okay,” I said with a tremulous voice.

I looked fearfully at Cat over my shoulder as I walked out of the kitchen.

She gave me a thumbs-up and smile like You’ve got this!

The last thing I heard as I closed the door was Cat giggling and gasping, “Oh!” –

And then the pantry door opened and quickly shut.