Conquered by the Mafia Boss

“Why the fuck should I? You insulted me last night.”

My laughter chokes my throat. “What are you, the Godfather or something? I insulted you because I didn’t want to fuck you?”

“You’re a real smart-ass. You know what you did.” His grin widens. “I could have any piece of ass in this room. Why should I waste my time with you?”

I take a bold step forward, showing him that I’m not afraid of him despite whatever the fuck he thinks he has to prove. I take his tie in my hands, watching how his eyes flicker over my lips.

“Because I’m the hottest piece of ass in the room.”

A smile tiptoes over his face, and there’s real laughter in it, unlike the condescending grin he keeps wearing.

I pull his tie slowly, his head inching toward mine, and he lets me draw his face in. His lips crash against mine, tongue darting inside my mouth to taste me. A shock zaps through his lips into mine, running all the way down my back in a delicious line. He still tastes like tequila. Fingernails slightly dig into my scalp as he fists my hair and forces my mouth against his. I lean into him as every part of me starts to heat up. It’s as though my body’s waking up after a long sleep, and he feels amazing and it’s just kissing. I’m not going to regret this.

When he pulls back, it’s not because either of us wants to. It’s just to breathe. He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “All right. Let’s get out of here.”

He pulls away from me for a moment to whisper something in that guy’s ear, and then he returns to my side, wrapping his arm around my waist. He digs his phone out of his slacks and makes a call.

“Chris. I need you to pick me up. All right.”

Then he ends the call and shoves it back into his pocket.

There’s just so much that doesn’t add up about this guy.

He pulls me toward the exit, never letting me go for a second. A black Audi pulls up to the curb and Johnny lets me go to open the door for me like a perfect gentleman. Man, he’s so different from the guys back home. I feel heat emanating from him as I walk past him and slide into the backseat. He joins me, his thighs pressing against mine.

“Take me home, Chrissy.”

The driver, a young guy wearing a leather jacket, nods and pulls the car away from the curb. How strange. The driver isn’t wearing any kind of professional clothing. For some reason it makes me a little nervous.

Fuck it. Who cares?

I want to think about his hand casually resting on my leg, his fingers wrapping around my knee, and the thrill that it gives me. He looks at my legs, my thighs, my tits, as if he’s deciding what he’s going to do with me. It’s a bit awkward with the other man in the car, but Johnny doesn’t seem to care.

We drive back to his place in silence. It’s a bit unnerving, and the closer we get to his home, the harder it is to ignore my frantic heartbeat. He kneads my thigh, inching up higher, dragging my dress over my skin as I turn sideways. He tips my head back with a single finger under my jaw and his lips fall over mine. They start out soft, at first, oddly restrained, and then they’re hard and biting. He slides one of his hands up my waist and grabs me roughly, as if he can’t decide which part he should focus on. I gasp into his mouth as his palm slides between my breasts. He grabs one of my tits-just groping it roughly, sliding his thumb over my peaking nipple.

“Tabarnak, your tits.”

My face burns scarlet, or I imagine that it does. Suddenly I’m reminded of the driver’s presence and I pull away from Johnny, returning my hands to my lap. His arm stretches behind my head, his fingers tickling the back of my neck. I burn at the sight of amusement on his face.

We finally arrive at what looks like his high-rise apartment.

“Thanks, Chris.”

“No problem.”

He doesn’t pay the guy. Huh.

I take Johnny’s hand and climb out of the car as he waves goodbye. The car rolls away, and a jolt of fear suddenly hits me as he guides me toward the lobby.

I can count on my hand how many times I’ve had sex, and never before have I had a one-night stand. I want him, but I still feel racked with nerves. He’s too gorgeous, too slick. My confidence can barely keep up with him.

It’s too late.

The elevator doors slide open, and I’m lulled into a false sense of security.

“I’m starting to think that you’re not just a bar owner.”

Johnny leans his back against the mirrored wall, grinning wickedly. “Yeah? What gave you that idea?”

“Everyone treats you like you’re a king.”Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

This time he really does laugh. It rebounds sharply in the elevator, and he pushes himself off the wall, advancing upon me like a predator. Until my breaths get short and I have a hard time focusing.

“Maybe I am.”

Oh God.

“Ever think about that?”

He’s connected. No fucking way.

An icy feeling spreads inside my chest as he pulls me against his body roughly without giving me any time to respond.

This is what you wanted, remember? You went to that bar because you knew Dad hated Italians, and what’s worse than an Italian?

A Mafioso.

It all fits-the bad-boy attitude, acting as though nothing in the world can take him down, his fucking ego, and the guys sucking up to him.

Oh shit. Oh God.

I’ve no idea how high up he is, but he’s a soldier, at least. He’s a made member. I’m sure of it.

Dad would fucking kill him. And me.

The elevator pings open and I’m half-tempted to think of some kind of excuse to bail, because this is nuts. I’m the daughter of the president of the Devils MC, and he’s in the mob. I almost want to laugh at how panicky I am right now. The other, louder part of me wants to do it anyway. It’s wrong. It’s exciting. I’ve already gone too far.

He leads me down the hall, and still I haven’t made a move to suggest that maybe we should call this whole thing off. Save my fucking skin and his.

Instead I let him pull me into the darkness of his apartment. Into that horribly terrifying silence that simmers with desire. It’s always the most awkward part of first dates. The whens and the hows are torturous. When should I kiss him? I could handle him if he was an ordinary man, but he’s the opposite.

He’s a predator.

Like a black hole, he’s the brightest thing in the universe. I could pick him out in a crowd instantly. Get too close and you’re dead. You’re gone.

He shuts the door and locks it. The moment I hear the locks slide home, I know I’m fucked.

Johnny’s face seems different in the darkness. There’s no levity, just a humorless look and a predatory stare. It makes my heart jump in my chest. Then he flicks on the light, illuminating a vast, gorgeous apartment.