My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 9 "Crucified" by Marita A. Hansen

Christo Donatelli commits a horrific crime that ignites a war, one that could destroy all of the mafia families on the island.

My masters' nightmare season 1, episode 9 "crucified"

Christo Donatelli commits a horrific crime that ignites a war, one that could destroy all of the mafia families on the island.

Christo's, Frano's, and Alessandro's viewpoints.

Genre: FICTION / Erotica / General

Secondary Genre: FICTION / Crime

Language: English

Keywords: mafia, erotica, FBI, Sicily

Word Count: 21,318

Sales info:

This episode belongs to a 15 part book serial, which is doing well around the world. Please see Episode 1 "Taken" first if you wish to translate My Masters' Nightmare.

Sample text:



I ground against Rita, the woman moaning under me. Dinner was drawing closer, yet I still didn’t want to leave the bed. Rita was all I hungered for, and with the way she was kissing and touching me all over, I was certain she felt the same way. I didn’t know how we could go from fighting each other to making love within such a short space of time. It was amazing, and something I never wanted to ruin.

I penetrated her deep, the wet, tight grip on me making me growl low, because it was taking everything in me not to pound her hard. Her hands moved to my ass again, the woman unable to keep them off it. Though, I definitely wasn’t complaining—as long as she didn’t get finger happy.

I leaned down and kissed her lips, enjoying their softness. She kissed me back, then trailed her lips over my chin, nipping at my stubble. She moved down to my Adam’s apple, making me arch my neck as she kissed it. She had been fascinated with it seven years ago too, and would kiss and nibble on it whenever she could, as well as running her fingers over the bump as though it was an erogenous zone. No other female had paid it any attention other than her, and it was sexy as hell.

She ran her lips back up my neck and over my chin, mumbling she loved my stubble, again giving it little nips.

“I don’t love your stubble,” I mumbled back, laughing as she jerked her head to the side.

“I don’t have stubble,” she snapped.

I rubbed my crotch against hers. “You most certainly do, it’s scratching me. I think it might be time for another visit to the bathtub,” I said, raising my eyebrows.

She groaned, her annoyance instantly vanishing.

Book translation status:

The book is available for translation into any language except those listed below:

Already translated. Translated by Veronica Picone
Unavailable for translation.
Translation in progress. Translated by Claudio Valerio Gaetani and Viviana Rafaella Gaetani Chinchilla

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