Page 39 of Marrying the Mobster
Viktor stands up straight, his eyes becoming icy and sharp, his nostrils flaring. “Was that a threat?”
“That’s a fucking certainty,” Diego fires back. “I won’t warn you again. Keep your eyes down and your mouth shut around my lady, or you’ll suddenly lose the ability to look at or speak to anyone ever again.”
With the shocked gazes of the entire party on us, Diego takes my hand and pulls me away. Despite being nearly the same height as him, I have to trot to keep up with Diego, who’s charging past his guests like a raging bull. My heart pounds when we near the bathhouse on the other side of the yard, afraid of what might happen once we’re inside.
I barely get a good look at the white interior of the bathhouse, with two closed-off showers and a sauna—before Diego slams the door and takes hold of my shoulder. My back meets the wall and he crowds into me, eyes blazing. He’s lost his glasses, and the bright lights show me just how pissed he is. But there’s something else, too. The heat that makes me catch fire whenever he’s close; the need that emanates from him and infiltrates the deepest part of me.
For a long while he just stands there looking at me, chest swelling with heaving breaths, jaw clenched so tight I can see the flex and protrusion of the muscles through his skin.
“Are you mad at me?” I ask, unable to stand the silence another second.
Diego doesn’t reply with words. Instead, he brings his lips crashing against mine with a savage groan. He presses so close I can feel every hard, hot inch of him—even feel his heartbeat, thumping wildly against my breast. His hands frame my throat, then move up to cup my face. Diego’s grip isn’t gentle, but I don’t need it to be. I go up in flames like a struck match, kissing him back with an intensity matching his. Our tongues thrust and push against each other’s, and the stinging bite of his teeth makes me cry out and then beg for more with soft whimpers. He’s consuming me, pulling me apart and taking what he wants. I’m helpless to resist, and I don’t want him to stop.
My body does the talking for me. I touch him everywhere, my fingers sliding through his hair and down his neck, my nails raking his back through the fabric of his shirt. Diego tilts my head and invades my mouth with his tongue, filling me with the taste and wet, warm feel of him. One of his hands slips between us, skimming my belly toward the edge of my thong. I part my legs when he slips his fingers inside, his knuckles running along my slit.
“Yes,” I whisper against his lips. “Please … Diego.”
With a grunt, he snatches his hand away and then spins me to face the wall. I’ve hardly caught my breath before he captures my hands behind my back and kicks my feet apart, leaving me vulnerable and spread.
“It’s too late for begging,gatita,” he rasps, lips trailing along the edge of my ear. “You asked for this.”
Confused and drowning in a haze of arousal, I try to look at him over my shoulder. I can only see the edge of his jaw and his full, perfect lips set in a hard, stern line. Fuck, it’s turning me on. Everything about him turns me on, even when try my best to hate him.
“But … you said if I was good—”
His hand cracks against one of my ass cheeks, shocking me into silence. My skin grows hot, leaving behind a tingling sensation.
“And you think you’ve been a good girl?” he growls, biting my ear until I yelp, then running his tongue over the throbbing skin. “You’re a goddamn tease and a troublemaker. Coming out of the house in that bikini and strutting around knowing I was watching, knowing how sexy you look. Then you come over and lay on me and start rubbing this tight ass all over my dick, and you thought you would get away with it?”
“I … I thought it would help convince Oleg and …”
He slaps me again on the opposite cheek. My legs jerk, and it’s all I can do to stay on my feet. My ass is uncomfortably hot and starting to throb, and I know he hasn’t even hit me as hard as he’s able to.
“You thought it would get me hot and bothered. You thought you could lead me around by the dick. But you’re forgetting one important thing, Elena. Iownyou. I can have you when I want, wherever I want, however I want, and no amount of teasing or games is going to change that. Do you understand?”
I’m too caught off guard by the question that I don’t answer fast enough to satisfy him. Three more sharp blows land on my ass, making me arch against the wall. The wide spread of my legs and his hold on my hands keeps me from bucking away, so I can only stand there with tears welling in my eyes and feel it all. He leans into me, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against my ass through his slacks. I’m panting and squirming in his hold, dizzy from the sensations racing through me—things I never realized could feel so good.
“I asked you a question, Elena.”
This time I respond on command, my cheeks clenching at the thought of another spanking. “Yes … I understand.”
He slaps my upper thigh, right where it meets my butt cheek, and the pain of it sends me up on my toes. A scream burns in my throat, but I choke it down, not wanting anyone to hear what’s going on in here. It’s already mortifying to know they’re probably speculating over what Diego is doing to me.
“Good girls get rewarded,” he whispers, squeezing my throbbing ass so hard my knees buckle. “Bad girls get punished. Are you a good girl, Elena? Or are you a bad girl who needs to be punished?”
Oh, God. My legs are shaking and the wall is the only thing keeping me on my feet. I can feel myself getting wetter the longer he does this to me, making me crave his depravity. I can’t believe I’m actually aroused by a spanking and the degrading things he’s saying to me … but damn, I can’t seem to control it. Something inside me is coming alive, reveling in having all control taken away and being forced to accept whatever Diego dishes out. There’s a rush in my veins that sends my head floating on a high better than the few times I’ve tried pot.
“I … I’m a good girl,” I whimper.
Diego snorts. “No, you’re not. But you will be when I’m finished with you. Get on your knees.”
He releases me so abruptly I don’t have to expend any effort doing what he says. I fall to the floor, using my hands to keep from going face-down on the hard tiles. Diego is still standing close, his tattooed hands working at his belt buckle. The hard outline of his cock against his pants is unmistakable. My pussy clenches and throbs as I watch him unbuckle, unbutton, and unzip. He’s wearing black briefs, the fabric showing a wet spot of pre-cum. Pushing them down, he takes hold of his cock and starts stroking it. It’s as monstrous as I remember—big and thick and bulging with juicy veins. More pre-cum leaks from his head, and his heavy balls draw up tight against his body.
Snatching the rest of his shirt buttons open, he steps closer and angles his cock toward my lips. “Suck me.”
I become Diego’s pet again, acting on command in hope of a reward. No, that’s not true. I act on command because I want to … because the sight of that perfect cock made me want to take it into my body. Because for the first time in months I finally feel like I’m in control of something. Diego has made his point—he’s in charge here, and he doesn’t want me to forget it. But the actions I’m taking now—wrapping my fingers around his shaft and licking at his swollen head—aren’t being forced or coerced out of me. I’m doing this because it will feel good, because I’m tired of being afraid and uncertain. Even for a few minutes, it’ll be nice to feel something else. Something pure and raw and real.
Diego’s deep, rough moan sends another bolt of lightning through me. Resting a hand against the wall, he holds the back of my head and pushes into my mouth. He doesn’t stop until he reaches the back of my throat, backing up a few inches when I gag. But then he’s thrusting right back in, ruthlessly fucking my mouth and taking his own pleasure. I widen my jaw and try to relax and keep up with his hammering pace. My eyes burn and start to water, and after a while I can only kneel there with my mouth open and let him take what he wants.
