Page 8 of Stolen By the Mafia King
I can see that waiting out his month is the logical way forward—but is it? A lot could happen in a month under his control. Either way, will he stick to his promises?
Yes. Whatever else the kingpin is, I think he’s a man of his word.
In which case… I sneak a look at him. He’s fit. Muscled. Bulky even. But is he agile? I might have the edge there. And if I can escape…
If I get out now, I’m at a double advantage. I don’t have to spend a miserable lonely month in yet another gilded cage. And I won’t have to resist throwing myself at Grant and being humiliated. Because god knows, it will be resisting. He has a force around him, like he’s one of those spaceships that draws in smaller ones. A planet pulling in a shining meteor to its orbit, only to burn it up upon entry to the atmosphere.
He is scary, and though there’s a savage creature in me that likes that, I’m not under any illusion. This man would take what he wanted from me if I offered it, and break my heart.
So the race is better, right? I win and leave. I’ll figure out how to make a new life and stay one step ahead of Colin and David. Or if I lose the competition, at least I’m only with Grant for one day, not a whole month where I’d drive myself nuts about what he meant when he said,I want you. For what? To be his maid? What could he want with a girl like me?
Besides, would it be so bad to be his for one day? I don’t know what he’d demand, exactly. But a warm shiver goes through me at the thought of Grant being my firsteverything. The outer recesses of my mind acknowledge that I’m more than a little curious about what he’d make me do. What depravity he’d inflict on me.
I might enjoy it.
He’s waiting stoically while these chaotic thoughts cascade through my head. His arms are crossed over his chest, like he’s holding in all his power and strength.
I can do this. I’ll win and be out of here. No long month knocking around his house like a single pinball. Even twenty-four hours at his mercy is better than that.
Lifting my gaze to his, immediately I’m drowning in that grey. Lost in it like he’s a snowstorm at dusk.
I open my mouth and he reads the answer before I say the words. The flash is brief but I know I saw it.Relief. For a game? Is my billionaire kingpin bored? Or… I see it in a strike of insight through those apparently cold eyes. Lonely?
My heart spasms in sympathy. “Yes. I accept.”
4
GRANT
I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I do this. Her.
And she has just made it all the hotter by accepting a race she must know she can’t win.
“How much of a head start do you want?” I ask as I strip off my shoes and socks. She flicks her heels onto the other side of the room. Sensible girl, they’d slow her down.
But the arch of her foot—so damn pretty. Everything about Jessa is sexy. The combined effect of the image in my mind of what I’m going to do to her when I catch her—because this is predetermined, I will catch her—and the allure of being the hunter, means my cock is rock hard.
“I don’t know your house. Thirty seconds.”
I chuckle. “Sounds like you think you’re not fast enough to outrun anold man, sweetheart.” Turning forty last year I did momentarily feel like I was on a downhill. Too many years of work to get to the top of the London mafias. But remembering Jessa was out there, just nearly at the age for me to claim? Seeing her in snaps and bursts when I can get away from my duties for an hour and replace her driver, or watch her while she goes for a run. That makes me feel eighteen again, but in a good way. Without the inexperience of being a new mafia boss, but with the all-out horniness, constant hard-on, and cockiness that luck is with you.
“I know I’m faster. I just don’t trust you,” she snaps, but I see how she can’t help but be drawn to the sight of my body. She’s noticed my erection and keeps flicking her gaze to the bulge in my trousers then away, like she’s repeatedly telling herself not to look. That thin silk dress is revealing and her chest has gone pink with… Is it arousal? I’ll enjoy finding out.
“You will.” There is nothing like overwhelming pleasure and multiple orgasms to prove good intentions. “Ten seconds.”
“Thirty seconds, or no deal.” Her throat bobs as she swallows and she scuffs the carpet with her bare toes.
My proud girl. I almost remind her that this was her idea and I wanted to woo her gently over a whole month, building her trust gradually until she begged me to fuck her. But she won’t accept anything less than a man so much stronger than her that he can take her down with a ridiculous handicap. An impossible handicap. Alright. She needs a display of masculine power to make her feel safe. I’ll do that. For her.
I can’t deny that I’m turned on as fuck by this. And while her final capitulation—me thrusting inside her deep, breeding her as I’ve thought of every night for the past few years as I harshly fisted my cock until I came—will only be when she asks me for it, there are a lot of other things I can do to her in twenty-four hours.
I hold out the key to the front door. “One. Two.”
Her eyes go wide.
“Three.”
Snatching the key from my palm, she takes off at a run, a blur of blonde hair, white silk, and pink skin as she jerks the door to her suite open and flees into the hallway. Her fist holds the key, clenched. I follow to watch her from the hall as I continue counting aloud. I’ve watched her run before, but this is so much better. She reaches the end of the corridor as I get to ten.
