Page 11 of Stolen By the Mafia King
“Do you want me to touch you?” he asks in a deep rasp against my lips.
I’m just… Looking down, and then back up again. It’s not a nod, I tell myself. He’s taking his part of this bargain. I’m his for the day. I have no choice.
“Hmm.” He makes a sceptical sound from his throat. “That will do for now. But I’ll have more before the day is out. I’ll have you screaming and begging. I’ll have you thrashing as you come and digging your nails into my back as you’re overwhelmed with pleasure.”
A whine of sheer desire comes from me, without my say so. I really shouldn’t want that. The floor is cold and hard and he’s heavy and hot and pressing me down. The combination is electric. It’s like he’s flicked switches in my brain I didn’t even realise I had. I have twice as many nerve endings everywhere than I used to; that’s the only explanation for how I feel.
I tell myself I don’t have a choice when his hand brushes over my knickers again. I honestly make an attempt to remember what I aimed to achieve only a few hours ago—freedom and to be on the opposite side of the world. But when he pushes the fabric aside, I arch into Grant’s touch as finally—finally—he touches me.
“You feel so perfect.” He groans as his fingers slide through my folds slowly, as though both of us aren’t panting. I’m shaking. He’s barely done more than skim my clit, but that feels like more than any of my efforts alone in bed.
It’s the forbiddenness and the taboo of the whole thing, I think. The way he’s doing this, I don’t have any responsibility. He’s taking without my permission, right? That was the deal. I shouldn’t like it, but I do. After all the planning of the past months and having to watch myself for my entire life, I’m loving that he is seizing control tomy benefit.He’s stroking me, gently at first, as though he’s waiting for me to pull away and stop him, but I don’t.
I don’t because, fuck that feels amazing.
Then he strokes more and harder, keeping me pinned and helpless. I’m not fighting now. I’m mindlessly chasing his touch as best I can given how solid he is on me. Our skin only touches in a few places, scorching. His hand holding my wrists. The back of his forearm, with hair that treads the line between soft and wiry. And his fingers in my pussy.
“That’s so good. You’re so good,” he tells me in a rough voice. “The little noises you’re making are sexy as fuck.”
I wasn’t even aware I was making any noises. But it’s true. Someone is mewing and whimpering, and someone is me.
The way he’s touching me, my body is hardly my own. I’m a creature of his making, of pleasure and vibration and feelings both in my heart and between my legs. He’s bolder than I would be with myself, but I’m wetter too, so it works. A synergy like sugar and butter, it sounds wrong, but it’s magic. He’s relentless. He strokes my clit in consistent patterns. Hard. Right over the nub that I would be tentative about, he pushes the pad of his fingers.
“My pretty girl.”
And then he kisses me. Soft lips and sandpaper stubble. I gasp. It’s more surprising than his blatant sexuality, this kiss. He takes my parted lips as an invitation, invading my mouth. Then it’s not subtle, it’s deep and filthy and sending the good sort of shivers down my spine. He is thrusting his tongue all the way against my cheek in a bold mimicry of sex. His other hand is still holding my wrists as he steadily drives me higher and higher. I’m mindless and out of control. I’m shaking with his touches and all I can do is moan.
“That’s it,” he says against my lips. “Give it up, sweetheart.”
It’s nearly, so nearly enough… Then he thrusts a finger—or maybe two or maybe four, who knows—into my passage and I arch and come apart at the seams. I scream. I shake and thrash like I’m trying to get away but at the same time I’m pushing my mouth to his like that point of contact is the only thing keeping me on the planet.
I’m not even certain I exist out of the throbbing pleasure where his fingers are easing in and out of me, and stroking over my clit. It’s only slowly, so slowly that I’m aware of my legs. Then my pleasantly curled toes and tingling calves. The heaviness in my torso. And then—more astonishing than my still having parts of my body in addition to my pussy, which is pretty shocking I can tell you—I notice my head. Specifically, my cheeks. My nose. My mouth and forehead. Each part of my face is being kissed by my captor. This is nothing like the claiming, possessive kiss while he stroked me to an orgasm so strong it might have caused concussion. Nope. These kisses are sweet and delicate as butterflies. They’re as unexpected as the way he effortlessly avoided everything I put in his path, and jumped over the side of the stairs to stop me from leaving.
He deserved that win. However desperate I was to get out, he wanted more for me to stay. What’s baffling is why. I thought if he won he’d just take his pleasure and my virginity on the floor in the most animalistic manner.
Instead, he has given me an orgasm better than anything I’ve achieved on my own.
Part of me wants to pretend that’s neither here nor there, but the way he pushed to the limits of sanity to win our competition? And then drank in my bliss like it was his own?
Yes. Yes.
I want to kiss him back. I want to return those delicate kisses.
But I’m so sated and exhausted. My eyes close. Sleepy. And… I belatedly realise that I feel… Safe. Because Grant might be a terrifying monster of a mafia boss, but he hasn’t hurt me. Quite the opposite.
My head knows I still need to get out. However much my body likes this man, he’s a merciless kingpin. So when he scoops me up, I should object.
“Where are we going?” I mumble instead.
“To my bedroom.” He presses his lips to my temple. His arms band around my thighs and shoulders and his hands hold me tight.
“But I should… My rooms.” I am incoherent.
“You’re sleeping in my bed,” he tells me and his gruff voice is a warm caress over my whole body. “You’re mine. That means I will have you with me every minute of our one day together, even when we’re asleep.”
He sounds obsessed. Unhinged. And damn, but… I like it. A lot.
6
