Dirty Mafia Sinner (Dirty Mafia Kingdom #2)

Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

RILEY

Trapped in paradise, I walk the grounds, anxiety accompanying every step. A cool ocean breeze tries to offer comfort, but low male voices deep in conversation keep it in check.

I don’t hear Alessandro.

But, as I pass his office window, the curtain falls closed.

He was watching me.

He always knows where I am.

His obedient little prisoner is free to wander the grounds. I do so, but walk on eggshells, anticipation building for today’s two o’clock appointment and the twisted things he’ll demand of me.

Evidence of yesterday is outlined on my body. A red collar around my throat. A bruise on my right breast where I whipped it without mercy. Strokes of light red welts everywhere else.

I should feel horrified. Used. Dirty .

Except images burn into my mind and mark it, as well. Deep blue eyes, the color of the sky before a storm. Massive, muscled arms, chest, and thighs, flexing with power. Hard monster cock suited for hammering things with equal force, like nails and women. A face still bruised and battered yet now resembling the man I knew. But my thoughts keep pausing on his wild expression, seconds before release, when his control slipped and I forgot everything, and we were lost in the moment together.

I shake my head. So reckless, Riley. He could have choked you to death.

So dangerous.

Beyond thrilling. Did I really offer to lick his seed off my fingers? Did I actually tease him, push his buttons and tempt him?

My face flushes.

You did, Riley. And the twisted part is you got off on it.

I stop at an old stone wall separating the grassy area from a massive drop to the white sandy beach below. The only safe way down is a long, winding staircase accessible from the pool patio.

I head there, but stop short, catching sight of the guards stationed there. They pretend not to see me. All except one, that is.

My eyes lock with Tommaso’s.

He nods, and then returns to his discussion.

Emily. He can tell me if she’s safe.

Heart in my stomach, I quicken my steps toward him, but my path is cut off by another man hurrying toward me. The same soldier who summoned me to meet Alessandro yesterday.

“Boss says to get your ass into his office now.”

I frown, certain I’m not late. I’m keeping my end of our arrangement so long as Alessandro’s kept his. “What time is it?” I ask him, flustered.

“Eleven forty-five.”

“But he said two o’clock.” Lord, I hoped to shower and perhaps drink heavily beforehand.

The man shrugs.

With a sigh, I follow him inside. Butterflies dance in my stomach. I’m anxious, but not necessarily for the right reasons. I’m anxious because I’m excited.

And because I might be as twisted as he is.

He’s at his desk when I enter, glaring at me … and my bravery splinters.

“You asked for me?” I breathe.

His suit is neat, without a wrinkle in sight. His blue tie perfectly in place. He’s dressed more for a board meeting in a New York high-rise rather than for a luxury villa office fuck.

“You took your time getting here,” he says, his voice flat. His eyes rake over me from head to toe, and I’m conscious of my appearance after my lengthy tour of the grounds. “Is that dirt on your uniform?”

My lips part as I glance down.

A black smudge is on the material partially covering my right breast. With a sigh, I brush it off, but it’s not budging. What does he expect? His obsession with everything white isn’t practical for daily wear. He slapped a monitor on my ankle and offered me more freedom. Dirt happens when you’re outside and exploring nature.

But do I say all this?

No. Not a peep.

I stand before his desk, the vision of obedience, the nervous energy buzzing around us holding me in place.

His blue eyes meet mine, and an electric charge zips down my spine and strikes directly between my thighs.

God help me. Forgive me for the sins I’m longing to explore. Because how could I want this? And from the monster who kidnapped me?

Except it’s there. This thing. That same sensation I felt when I saw him across the bar. Like I had to get close to him, had to feel his power embrace me, and strike life into me. Chasing extremes after everything else went black.

He licks his lips, feeling it too.

But the second we both realize it, he tenses and looks away. Then ignores me, thumbing through the screen on his phone like he’s forgotten me already.

I wait. His stubborn arrogance is unparalleled by anyone else I’ve met. But it’s better this way. I understand my role in his place—and it has nothing to do with emotional connection.

I’ll do what I have to do. If the curious facets within me get off on his kinks, so be it.

His impatience is what does it. He abruptly stands and then, still ignoring me, clears his desk. My eyebrows rise, but my lips remain tight.

He rounds the desk, and my pulse kicks up. Only to be disappointed when he disappears into the small bathroom connected to his office.

Curses drift out, then the splash of running water.

When he returns, the hair around his face is damp.

His eyes lock on mine, daring me to comment.

Well, pull out the prize box. Because if this is a test in obedience, I win.

He steps toward me, and I gasp when his fingers brush my breast before he clasps the zipper. Without a word, he tugs it down until the material falls open. His expression’s hard, but the familiar hunger within his eyes as they devour me for a few wicked heartbeats before he finishes undressing me.

His movements become more rushed. I’m scooped up, tossed on my ass onto his desk, and then pushed down until I’m sprawled across it. Anticipation building, I stare at the ceiling, not knowing what comes next.

There’s the rustling of clothes followed by a whispered curse.

He climbs onto the desk with me and, in all his glorious nakedness, straddles my hips.

“Nothing to say today?”

I blink. “Do I have permission to speak?”

He grunts.

No help there.

He stares at me, then without warning, arches forward and sinks his teeth into my nipple.

“Ahsss,” I hiss.

The pain eases as he sucks me in deeper.

Lightning strikes once more at my core.

He releases my nipple with a pop, and dives toward the other. I clench my thighs together, my excitement growing.

My nipples are two stiff peaks caught on fire. His mouth, lips, tongue the firestorm wreaking havoc on my senses.

He sucks harder.

A moan escapes from deep within my throat like a death sentence announced for all to hear. And he does hear it.

“Fuck.” His response rolls across my skin, a prelude to the moment ending. He straightens while disappointment bears down on me.

I don’t say a word or make a sound, not even when his heavy erection presses against my abdomen.

“You wet?” he demands.

“Yes,” I reply. No sense in lying when the proof is the dip of a finger away.

For a long time, he’s silent, deep in thought. If only I could read his expression. Understand him better, even if it’s on a sexual level rather than an emotional one.

He tenses—a decision’s reached.

I bite my bottom lip, prepared for his filthy worst.

“Clasp your fucking tits together.”

My lip pops out from between my teeth. I cup each breast from the bottom, and as demanded, hoist and squeeze them into each other.

His irises darken.

I don’t dare move as he shuffles forward to straddle my upper abdomen, his steel cock dragging across my body for the ride.

“These perfect fucking tits,” he grunts, grabbing and stroking himself.

At first, I believe he’ll jerk off on them, like he’s done many times before, including yesterday—and the day my world turned upside down. Everything about us has changed except for his freakish obsession with them. At least, he’s predictable that way, which is comforting.

But he glides his erection across my skin, and when the fat, bulbous tip nestles between the valley of my breasts, his intent becomes clearer.

“Oh,” I gasp.

And nearly mew at the sight of his lips curling.

“Hold them tight, or I’ll blister your ass. Capisci?”

I nod.

He sinks his teeth into his lip as he thrusts forward and buries himself between my breasts. I relax yet keep a firm grip like he demanded, not for my efforts at complete obedience but because deep down inside, I’m thrilled at the prospect of watching him get off.

His movements lengthen and pick up speed. So does his breath, until I’m quite certain he’s panting.

Lord, he’s a sight to see. Lips parted and eyes wild. So untrusting, so unforgiving, yet so handsome it’s no wonder my excitement coats my clenched thighs.

I lick my lips.

His eyes narrow. He’s well-aware I’m provoking him, and like yesterday, almost seems shocked I’d dare.

And like yesterday, his movements now become more aggressive. His hips flexing as his cock thrusts accelerate.

I recognize the moment he’s about to unleash. It’s hard to miss, as loud grunts turn into murmured curses.

I part my lips in offering.

His blue eyes turn black, but he shakes his head no. Eyes closing and head angled back, he comes hard and fills the tight tunnel I’ve created for him.

I hold him in position long afterward, and mentally prepare for the inevitable.

He springs off me, then delivers.

“Get out.”

I roll off the desk, and then find my uniform. “Should I report back at two o’clock?”

There’s a long silence. “I’ve got shit to handle.”

“Okay.”

As I step out, I can’t shake the thought: if this was all for his pleasure, why is my body still humming, every inch of me alive, vibrating with the aftershock of what we’ve just done?