Page 37 of The Mafia Heir's Obsession

“That’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair. Me having to fuck you with everyone knowing so they can see your virginal blood isn’t fair. Girls like you taking it up the ass exclusively to preserve that virginity isn’t… well, okay. It isn’t fair to you. I like ass fucking, but… now that I think about it, I like options. I fucking love pussy.”

“You spilled yours. Blood.”

“My virginal blood? I don’t think I’ve been virginal since I was fifteen. Although the girl was age appropriate, if you’re wondering.”

“I’m not.” But she blushes fiercely. “I’m a virgin in all places.”

I lift her chin with a finger. “You told me there was a boy. I’m betting you gave him a hand job and he touched you, or knowing guys, got you to put his dick in your mouth.”

“Not answering that.”

“Well, two virginities out of three works for me.”

Or none of them. Virginity doesn’t bug me.

Does it?

It never did.

Until now.

Until sweet, snarky, unexpected Lucie.

Suddenly I’m glad the majority of her virginities are mine.

The heat in the room slides around us, and my cock throbs with need as it swells. There’s something about her, there really is. The reason I saved her, why I chased her, why I obsessed over her. And fuck, she’s not leaving this room.

“You’re mine, Lucie. Every fucking inch. You were since I laid eyes on you in Queens. When I killed that fucking prick for you.” I lean in, mouth to her ear, breathing in her sultry scent. “And one day in the very near future, we’ll be having a conversation about who he was to you and why you were there. But right now, I’m going to shower, so go and eat pizza with my brothers.”

I step back because being too close to her is like that mindfuck of a moment when you give over control to the inner darkness, the violence. When you pull that trigger and throw that first fucking punch. She’s an explosion of all the lust and hunger there is.

“But—”

I put my finger against those plump, soft lips. “Not right now. I’m not in the mood for lies and denials. When we talk about it, there’ll be truth. I like truth.”

“Okay, so why did you come after me?”

“You piqued my obsessive nature, my intrigue. You were a hot little mystery piece that didn’t fit, and those fucking legs are beyond distracting. I wanted you.”

She imitates a fish drowning on land, her mouth opening and closing like she wants to say something but can’t formulate words.

I slide a hand into her hair, taking a fistful and pulling her to me. “You’ll be sleeping in my bed. Every fucking night. My wife, my rules.”

“Barbarian.”

I brush my lips against hers. “Now you’re getting it. I’m afucking cunt, too, like I’ve said. Go have pizza or Thai or whatever the hell they settled on.”

I let her go and walk away to the en suite. “And Lucie? Get changed. Big, baggy, covered up. That’s an order. I’m taking a shower.”

When I’m in the bathroom, I strip and turn on the water, and then I get under it. I’m hard and aching, and after washing, I let the water hit my face. My hand grasps my dick, the other massaging my balls, both hands soaped up. I slowly start to stroke my hardened cock, working the silver rods of the dumbbell piercings on the ladder, all nine of them, until I reach the tip and the curved dumbbell Prince Albert. It’s a primer to getting off, a form of self-torture, and after, I jerk it a few times. Then I go a little harder, rougher, until my cock’s straining.

Oh fuck. I can just imagine the damage?—

Shit. Lucie.

I stop, switch the water to cool, then cold, thinking of my day tomorrow instead. Not the violence or threats, but the boring shit, checking shipments, visiting my new sex club to go through the books and inventory.

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