Conquered by the Mafia Boss

It’s not that crazy. Women in the MC do it all the time for their husbands, but it sure as hell isn’t a requirement. My insides boil with excitement. It’s reckless and completely unlike me, but I know I’ll never be with anyone else.

Maybe this is my way of telling him that.

I lie on the bench after rolling down my panties and jeans. The needle slices into the skin in my back, right above where he loves to spank me. I grit my teeth against the pain.

Suck it up. Girls in the MC do this all the damn time.

It only takes about an hour, and then she makes me stand up and gives me a mirror. The elegant script wraps around my hip, dancing right over my cheek.

“He’s going to love it. Thank you so much.”

“No problem!”

She wraps it up and I walk to the front to pay, my skin smarting a little.

“Have a good time tonight!” she calls after me when I leave the store.

“Thanks, I will!”

I dig my phone from my purse and see a few text messages. We’re going out gambling as soon as we get back, and he wants me to dress up.

A slow smile spreads across my face.

* * *

The tattoo fucking burns.

The pain smarts as I lie on the couch, and I fight the urge to get up and look at the sprawling black ink in the bathroom mirror again. Fuck, it looks awesome.

It’s a pretty fucking crazy move to tattoo anyone’s name to your body, isn’t it?

That’s mainstream opinion, but I grew up in the MC, expecting to become someone’s old lady one day. I watched dozens of women get branded with their husband’s name and waited for the day where the same would happen to me.

Jack might not understand it, but this is my way of fusing our cultures together.

A jolt of excitement runs through my body as I hear him fiddling with the door, and I sit bolt upright, tugging my skirt over my knees.

“Beatrice?” he says, his voice echoing in the huge suite. “Are you ready?”

I stand up as his footsteps echo in the living room, his powerful voice sending a shiver down my spine. Then I see him, silhouetted in the doorway.

“I’m here.”

He turns his head and sees me standing there. “Well, come on. We have a VIP game to get to.”

I walk closer to him, studying the way his suit wraps around his body like silk. The dark-blue fabric makes his skin shine, and I think about those powerful muscles-his thick thighs hiding underneath.

Damn, he looks hot in a suit.

My hands reach out, touching his chest. I slide between his jacket and feel the broad muscles, and then I move up to play with his neck. Jack shuts his eyes, sucking in breath. He looks so made up and handsome that I have to taste him. The closer I am, the more powerless I feel, until my mouth falls on his. He kisses me before biting me softly.

“Baby-”

“I just want to show you something first.”

An uncertain smile staggers across his face. “Okay.”

Then I pull the hem of the skirt down until I feel it drag over the raw flesh.

“What the hell are you doing?”Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

“I got a tattoo.”

He lifts the back of my shirt and lets out a choked laugh. “Holy fuck. What does it say-Property of Jack?”

He rips my skirt down and his hand curves around my ass. “So your ass belongs to me?”

I can’t help but smile at that. “Yeah, along with the rest of me.”

He squeezes me. “Jesus.”

“You like it, then?”

Possessive hands dig into my hips and he gives my ass a sharp slap. “You knew damn well I would.”

I feel the evidence pressing against my leg.

“I keep picturing nailing you from behind while this is staring me in the face. Fuck, Beatrice.”

I love the grittiness in his voice when he hauls me upright, his hand still on my ass. The way his eyes gleam sends a thrill into my core, and then he kisses me. His tongue shoves down my throat, and I cling to him. A frustrated growl rocks through my clit.

“I can’t fuck you right now, so I’ll fuck you during the game.”

Wait, what?

“I told you not to tease me.”

“Jack, how are you going to-ah!”

He rips my underwear with one quick jerk. He actually tears them from my thighs and stuffs them in his jacket pocket.

“I’m going to fuck you in front of all those men, and they won’t even know it.”

What?

I try not to laugh at the maniacal grin on Jack’s face and I pull my skirt back up.

“Let’s go.”