The Mafia Don strode out, limping ever so slightly and made for his room, slamming the door behind him. He was breathing heavily. The scene with his little wife had been unpleasant. Seeing her distress had made him feel sick of himself, an emotion he had never felt before.

The sight of the little vixen never failed to arouse him. That luscious body, the fragrant hair, the way she melted when he touched her. And the sight f her soft, plump lips, her eyes, wide and so fresh, so innocent ...