Don’t Make Me (Made Men #3) Read Online Renee Rose

Categories Genre: BDSM, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Made Men Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
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“No, cara mia. I can’t.”

Her face falls. “Why not?”

I picture her ass bared for me, my little princess to punish and protect. My gaze slides away, down the row of cars, and one corner of my mouth kicks up as I consider the truth.

“I’m afraid I would like it.” I look back down at her, and she flushes, eyes dilating. Her chest rises and falls, drawing my gaze down to her apple-sized breasts.

“You would like punishing me?” Her voice cracks.

I look her square in the face, let her see the sadistic bastard I am. What she’d get if she unleashed my desire. “Yeah.”

Damn, if she doesn’t look excited. Fuck, if she doesn’t push her abdomen back at my bulging cock, rocking her pelvis up. A low growl rises in my throat.

“I guess I’d prefer it that way.”

Oh, this was too. Fucking. Tempting.

She blinks those big doe eyes. “Look, you know this would kill my dad. He thinks of me as his perfect little princess. His good girl. The one who’s going to marry a lawyer or be a congressman’s wife. Not only would it destroy him to know about this, but he’d be sick about the fact that you and… um…”

“Sonny.” I supply the name of my soldier.

“Yeah, that you and Sonny saw me. That would really piss him off.”

She’s absolutely right about that. I put a finger under her chin. “Summer, I’m not kidding around about punishing you. It wouldn’t be a game.”

It’s the only way I can justify it. That I’m actually trying to straighten her out, not perv on the don’s daughter by enacting every kinky fantasy I’ve ever had about her.

She sucks on her lower lip. “Okay.”

Gesù Cristo. I stroke her cheek with my thumb. I’ve never touched her this way before, even though I’ve always considered Summer to be mine—someday. As underboss to the LaTorre family business at the tender age of twenty-seven, I stand to inherit the kingdom—and that means I get the princess. At least in my mind. I’m pretty sure Don Alberto sees it differently, though.

“Please, Carlo?” Her voice sounds hoarse.

My breath stalls. When it starts again, my heart’s taken off at a gallop. “You’re giving yourself to me? For my correction?”

Does she have any idea what she’s getting herself into?

She sucks on her lip again and nods. “Yes.”

I look skyward. I should tell her no. This won’t work. A) Don Alberto will kill me. B) Don Alberto will kill me again, and C) If I go home with her, I’ll never want to leave.

But I’m already touching her. Her scent fills my nostrils, the warmth of her soft flesh ignites every cell in my body. I don’t want to tell her no. I don’t want to take her to Don Al and Carmen and tell them what I saw tonight, to bring hurt and disappointment to the couple who’ve become my new family. And now that I can practically taste Summer, I sure as hell don’t want to give up this window of opportunity.

Cogliere l'attimo. Seize the moment.

I blow out my breath. Releasing her wrists, I step back and open her car door. When she turns to get in, I gave her delicious ass a smack.

I climb in the driver’s side and adjust the seat back as far as it goes to make room for my long legs. “You’re going to get me killed.”

She unbuckles her high heels and toes them off. “Guess I’ll have to make it worth it.”

Chapter Two

Summer

Carlo doesn’t speak on the ride to the apartment he and my father helped me move into. I steal glances at him as he drives, noting the firm set of his square jaw, the furrow between his brows. Is he actually mad at me? Or just acting stern on behalf of my father?

I was surprised to hear his opinion that I need help. I thought I’ve been putting on a decent front since I broke up with John. I didn’t know Carlo paid any attention to my mental state. Knowing he does sends a shot of longing through me so deep and drastic that part of me wants to tell him to pull the car over, so I can run away. Because he’s right—I am fragile right now. And it wouldn’t take any coaxing at all for me to fall hopelessly for the guy I’ve been secretly lusting after for the past four years.

He pulls up in front of my apartment and parallel parks in a tight space without having to maneuver the car back and forth. But Carlo pretty much does everything well. At least from what I’ve seen. He probably wouldn’t treat me with scorn because I’m horrid at parallel parking, either. Carlo is never derisive like John. No, I’ll bet he’s secure enough in his manhood that he wouldn’t need to pick apart his girlfriend to make sure she measures up. Or to cheat.


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