The Mafia Boss Who Captivated Me

He runs his fingertips over my cheek. "Why are you so nervous, Kat?" he asks in a deep, commanding tone that makes goosebumps prickle out all over my body.

"This isn't... I don't usually do this kind of thing," I say, my voice little more than a whisper.

"Have sex?" he asks with a flicker of amusement.

"With strangers who I don't even like, yes," I snap. If he's trying to intimidate me, then he can go to hell.

"There's my feisty little kitten." He slides his hands over my hips and onto my ass, pulling me close to him so that I can feel his hard cock pressing against my stomach. "But you have nothing to be nervous about. You already know how hard you make me and how much I want to fuck you."

He reaches for the edge of my t-shirt and starts to peel it off me, and I lift my arms to help him. And now I'm standing in front of him completely naked. His hands coast over my back, running over every inch of skin, including the hideous scar just above my ass. I shudder when his fingers brush it, and he doesn't touch it again.

"You're beautiful, Kat," he murmurs as he trails soft kisses over my neck. "I want to see every part of you. I want to taste you."

He pushes me back against the bed until I'm lying on it.

His strong hands slide up my thighs as he spreads them wide open until I'm completely exposed to him. The look in his eyes makes my thighs tremble, and before I can stop him, his head is between my thighs and his mouth is on my clit. "You don't have to do that," I whisper, tugging at his hair.

He looks up at me with a look of bewilderment on his face.Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

"I'm ready, is all I meant," I say with a swallow. God, I'm such an idiot.

"Yeah, I can see that, but I'm not eating your cunt to make you ready, kitten."

"Then why?"

His brow furrows into a frown. "Hasn't a guy ever eaten your pussy just for the sheer fucking enjoyment?"

"Well, yeah, I suppose. And I have enjoyed it."

"I meant his own, Kat. Although yours is important, obviously, but fuck."

"I'm sorry. I feel like I keep ruining these moments.

Maybe I should just go back to my own room?"

He pushes himself up to his forearms. "My face is inches from your pussy. You smell fucking delicious, and I swear if I don't eat you right now, I might implode. So unless you have any legitimate objections, I'm just going to go back to doing what I was doing."

I smile at him in spite of the weirdness of this situation.

"I have no objections."

"Thank fuck," he growls before he dips his head, pressing the flat of his tongue against me. He licks the length of my wet slit and damn near makes my eyes roll back in my head.

"Fucking heaven," he murmurs before he sucks my clit into his hot mouth and swirls his tongue over the sensitive bud of flesh.

"Holy fuck," I hiss as my toes curl and my thighs tremble.

He is so good at that. How much practice has he had?

Suddenly, I don't care. Heat and pleasure builds in my core and rolls through my thighs while he feasts on my pussy with more skill than any man should have all to himself.

When he slips two fingers into me and starts to fuck me while he eats, I enter a whole new realm of pleasure. In fact, I think I might just have drifted onto another plane of existence. And when I look at his face, he catches my eye and winks, and I almost pass out. He didn't lie about enjoying this, he's getting as much out of it as I am.

I press my head back against the pillow, silencing my constant internal chatter and focusing on his magical fingers and tongue and the pleasure they are currently wringing from my body. And when I come with a breathy cry of his name, he doesn't stop. Not even when I pull his hair and tell him I've had enough.

"I haven't," he growls, wrapping his arms around the backs of my thighs to hold me close to his face as I squirm.

"Give me one more and then I can fuck you as hard as I want to."

A wave of pleasure rolls over me, knocking the breath from my lungs and rendering me speechless. And only when he has wrung another mind-altering orgasm from my body does he stop. Pushing himself up and rolling on a condom, he plows into me, burying his face in my neck as he nails me to his mattress. And all I can do is cling on, with my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as he fucks me better than I had ever even dreamed was possible. DANTE and I lie in bed, facing each other, which feels strangely personal even after what we've just done.

"Why don't you like it from behind? Does it hurt?" he asks.

Yes, but not in the way you think. "It's not that." I try to swallow but my throat is dry. "It's... I have some bad memories."

I wonder if he's going to say something cruel or unkind.

"Is it anything do with the scar on your back?"

Oh God. He saw my ugly, ugly scar. "Yes."

"It's a strange scar."

"I know. It was a word," I say, forcing down the emotion that lodges in my throat.

His eyes narrow, and I feel under way too much scrutiny. "Somebody carved a word into your skin?"

"Yes, and then I tried to carve the word out so nobody could ever read it."

"Is that also to do with the reason you have nightmares?"

I blink at him as my cheeks turn pink with shame. "You know about my nightmares?"

"It's kind of hard not to hear you screaming in your sleep almost every night, Kat."

"I'm sorry about that," I whisper.

"Don't be."

I take a deep breath. This might be the strangest conversation I've ever had in my life. Maybe that's what makes it easier? Neither of us have any investment in making the other feel better about anything. "Yes, it's why I have nightmares too," I whisper.

"But before that. Were you okay with being taken from behind?"

"Yes. It was my favorite," I admit. "But now. I mean, I haven't been with anyone since, but the idea of someone behind me, holding me down..." I shudder again.

"So you have two lives, right? One before and one after whatever it was that happened to you," he says, and I'm taken aback by his insightfulness.

"Yes, exactly like that. There's before the attack, and after."

"Hmm," he mumbles absentmindedly as his fingers trace over the skin of my back. He avoids my scar, and I wonder if he's doing that on purpose, and if so, is it because he's being kind or because he's repulsed by it. Not that he seems repulsed by my body at all. In fact his impressive erection suggests the exact opposite.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask him, a little scared of the answer.

"I'm not going to lie, Kat. Your ass is a thing of beauty and I want to see it bouncing when I'm nailing you. I spend way too much time thinking about bending you over every piece of furniture I own and fucking you until you scream. So, are you open to working on the issue with me?"

He wants to work on this? Like we're a couple or something? Is he for real? The man who kidnapped me wants to help me work through my issues. But despite those thoughts, the words that come out of my mouth are, "I'll think about it, sure." His response is a half groan, half growl, that makes goosebumps prickle over my forearms. Who am I kidding?

A few more orgasms like the ones he's given me tonight and I'm going to let Dante Moretti bend me over whatever the hell he likes.