Page 33 of Marrying the Mobster
His warning should scare me, but I choose to accept it as a challenge. Diego isn’t the only one with fire inside him, and I’m not the only one capable of being burned.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I slip the thin straps of my dress off my shoulders, then push down the matching thong. I work up confidence I don’t really feel on my way to the bathroom, my hands trembling and my pulse thumping hard in my throat. Shutting down my thoughts gives me the last push I need to walk into the bathroom.
I can see Diego through the shower glass—every inch of him gloriously naked and glistening. The shower jets are affixed in the walls as well as overhead, so he’s being soaked from every angle, water battering him like a churning storm. My insides melt and my nipples tingle as I take in the parts of him I’ve never seen before. Diego is all hard muscle, lines of definition collecting rivulets of water as they roll down his sculpture-worthy body. His back is dark with ink, but I can’t make out the designs from here. His ass is tight and firm, and his thighs are powerful.
I’m still dazzled, staring with a slack jaw, when the water suddenly shuts off. I blink, and Diego’s standing just outside the shower, holding a white towel. His eyes go molten as he looks me over, taking his time and lingering on my most intimate parts. My inner channel clenches and my clit throbs as his eyes linger on my pussy, the skin freshly waxed. His chest rises and falls with each breath, his nostrils flaring. Beads of water trickle down his body, and I can’t help following them until I’m staring at his cock.
Holy fuck. Even flaccid it’s huge—long and thick and hanging against his thigh. It starts to stir while he looks at me, filling with blood and rising to attention. I squeeze my thighs together and bite my lip, feeling like I might faint.
“See something you like,gatita?” he asks, the raspy quality of his voice like a stroke of hands over my naked skin.
I swallow and try to make my tongue move, but I can’t manage words. Now that I’m here, uncertainty has taken over again. I’ve become a deer in the headlights, helpless and at the mercy of the man with the power to destroy me.
He finishes drying off and drops his towel, approaching me with slow steps. “Is this what you came for?” he teases, taking hold of his cock and giving it a stroke. It grows harder, the tip swelling and flushing red. I can feel my own wetness on the insides of my thighs, and I’m lost to that unexplainable, magnetic pull. “Is it, Elena? You want me to bend you over and stuff you full of this cock?”
His words are disgusting and crude, and hot as all hell.Yes, I want to tell him.Yes, that’s what I want.
He’s close enough now that I can see beads of water clinging to his long, spiky eyelashes. “I told you to be careful,” he continues, reaching out to clutch the back of my neck. Heat radiates from him like a furnace. “I warned you, but I don’t think you really understood.”
I choke on a gasp as he whips me around and pushes me against the vanity to face the mirror. He holds a fistful of my hair while crowding my back, pressing my thighs into the cool porcelain. His tight grip has me up on my toes, my neck yanked back so I’m forced to confront our reflection. He looks larger naked, every rope of muscle and inch of skin both threatening and tantalizing.
“Now I have to make sure you know what you’d be getting yourself into,” he rasps, lips pressed to my ear. His breath tickles the sensitive skin of my neck, making me jerk and shudder against him. He bares his teeth and drags them along my shoulder, then gives me a stinging bite. “I’m not a gentle man,gatita. When I take you to bed, it won’t be to give you sweet kisses and make tender love. It will be to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. I’ll take your mouth until you choke on my cock. I’ll fuck this pussy until you beg me to stop.”
I stiffen when he slips a hand between my legs, his middle finger sliding along my slit. He makes a low, growling sound when he finds me wet, and his finger lightly presses my clit, making me see stars.
“When I’m done, I’ll turn you over and fuck your sexy little ass,” he says, catching and holding my gaze in the mirror. “I already own every inch of you, but I would take everything else. I’d spank you until your ass is red and throbbing, bind you so you can’t move while I lick you until you come … clamp your nipples and shove a plug up your ass to get you ready for me. I’ll use you every way I can think of, then I’ll invent new ones. I’ll tear you apart,gatita.”
I slump against him, his threats and the slow circle of his finger over my clit drugging me into submission. I want to be afraid, regretful for thinking I could seduce Diego. I’m the one being seduced, and the threats he’s making don’t scare me. They make me pulse and ache, my pussy getting wetter as he tells me the filthy things he wants to do to me.
I’ve been frustrated in the past by men who treat me like a piece of glass, who ask me what I want instead of taking charge and giving me what Ireallyneed. Diego’s words aren’t idle warnings—they’re promises of pleasure and pain that make my body sing, and he’s barely touched me.
Diego pushes his erection against my ass, the thick rod pressing into my crack. He’s still stroking me, playing with me, pushing me closer to the edge.
He watches me in the mirror, satisfaction and cocky arrogance coloring his features. “You’re close, aren’t you, Elena? You’re so fucking wet. I can feel you … I can smell you.”
Embarrassed heat flushes me to the roots of my hair, and I let out a soft moan. I am close … so close I’m breathless with it, arching and straining into his hand.
“Yes,” I croak, shaking and stiffening as I feel an orgasm building. “Oh, God.”
Diego smiles—really smiles—for the first time since I met him, and snatches his hand from between my legs. The building spasms in my core vanish, and I’m left with fluttering pangs that make me double over and clutch the vanity.
He grabs my hair and wrenches me back up, his smile wiped away. He glowers at me through the mirror, cruelty and dominance rolling off him in tangible waves.
“I won’t tell you again. I’m in control here,gatita, not you. I decide when you can have my cock, and I decide when you get to come.”
He lets me go, and I nearly drop to my knees. Diego stands back and says nothing as I run from the bathroom, shaken and turned inside out. Rifling through my meager clothes, I find pajamas and throw them on. Then, I dive into bed and try to steady my breathing.
By the time Diego comes to bed, I’ve quieted myself enough that I can fake sleep. I feel the bed dip when he climbs in beside me. In the quiet darkness, I wait with bated breath for him to fall asleep.
I lay there for what feels like hours, listening to Diego toss and turn. The pills don’t seem to be working, and I can hear him huffing and sighing in frustration.
I’ve nearly nodded off when he leaves the bed, cursing under his breath. My eyes flare open, and I listen to him pad to the bathroom, clicking the light on.
Heart in my throat, I turn over so I can see what he’s doing. He didn’t bother to close the door, probably thinking I fell asleep hours ago. He’s shirtless, wearing a pair of pajama pants and staring at himself in the mirror. In the light of the bathroom, I can finally make out his back tattoos. It’s a battle scene of angels versus demons, flames rising up to engulf them from below, and beams of light shining from above. The Virgin Mary looms over it all, holding an infant Jesus in her arms as one tear rolls down her cheek. It’s a beautiful piece, and I can’t imagine how much time it took, how painful it must have been. It makes me curious over the depths of the man beneath the outward shell. His tattoos hint at a deep belief in Catholicism, but he obviously isn’t deeply religious. That would be in direct contradiction with his lifestyle of crime and dark deeds.
My attention diverts from the body art when I realize he’s not just standing there anymore. He’s hunched over, his pants pushed down to reveal his incredible ass. In the mirror I can see he’s using one hand to pump his cock and the other to fondle his balls. Soft pants slip through his lips, and then a low groan. I’m frozen to the spot and unable to look away, hypnotized by the sight of him pleasuring himself. He starts slow but eventually increases his rhythm, until he’s jerking his cock with a furrowed brow and parted lips.
Biting my lip, I let my hand slip along my belly, over the smooth silk of my camisole. Past the waistband of my shorts, I let my fingers tease downward. I’m wet, hot, and needy, my clit throbbing at the slightest touch. Shame tries to intrude on the moment, but I push it aside. That asshole got me all worked up and then left me hanging. He believes he can control when I get to come.
