Page 62 of Mafia Mistress

Chapter Fifteen

Francesca

He tookme to the stables.

I paused outside, unable to take the final steps into the building. Was I really doing this? You teased him with it. God, I was an idiot. How had I ever thought to gain the upper hand with this man? He saw through my every move and turned it back around on me.

He slapped my ass. “Get inside a stall. Show me how much you want my cock in your mouth.”

The words melted my insides and weakened my resistance. I desperately wanted to suck him off. I wanted to be on my knees, choking on Fausto’s dick. Just the visual was enough to soak my panties.

He wants it, too. Show him what you can do, Frankie.

I would do this once. Never again. I was not Fausto’s mistress.

“I am not your mistress,” I repeated over my shoulder as I started inside.

He said nothing and watched my ass in the tiny shorts. I put a tiny bit of sway into my hips, hoping he enjoyed the show. Somehow, I would win this battle between us.

Two grooms were working in the stables—and Fausto immediately ordered them to get out. The men scurried from the building without a word, eyes averted, clearly terrified of the capo. That only turned me on even more, which I found both telling and terrifying.

Do not ever try to tell me you weren’t made for this life, that you weren’t born to rule as a queen.

No, I couldn’t allow that to be true. This was a game, a few days of fun before I left this place.

But I could think about that later. Not now, when I was about to give Fausto the blow job of his life.

The place smelled of hay and leather, the horses moving quietly in their stalls. When I found an empty stall, I went in. As soon as I spun around, he was on me, kissing me like he was starving. Fausto was a good kisser, better than David. My ex’s kisses were sloppy, his mouth too wide. But Fausto used the perfect amount of suction, not overwhelming me with his tongue. It was a mature kiss, like Fausto knew what he wanted and would take it from me whether I gave it or not.

He’d surprised me with the kiss earlier by the paddock. I supposed everyone would know I was fucking the boss now. What would they think of me? Did I even care?

Fausto broke off and dropped his hands from my shoulders. “Show me, monella. Show me how much you want my cock in your dirty mouth.”

His stare was almost a challenge, as if he expected me to change my mind. If so, he would be disappointed. I was every bit as stubborn as him. I lowered to my knees slowly, never looking away from his bright gaze. He held still but I could see the muscle in his jaw working. Upper hand, Frankie.

Once I was on my knees, I reached for his belt. He grabbed my hands. “Untie your top. I want to see your tits bounce as you suck me.”

I should have known he wouldn’t make this easy. But if he thought showing my breasts would feel degrading, he couldn’t have been more wrong. I liked the idea of being partially undressed while servicing him in the stables.

Lifting my hands behind my neck, I pulled the strings loose. Then I lowered the top completely, allowing my tits to spring free. Fausto’s chest rose and fell rapidly as his eyes tracked my movements. “Now, Francesca. Suck me.”

I took my time, sliding my hands up his thighs to skim his cock over the fabric of his trousers. He growled. “Do not play with me. Succhiami il cazzo.”

I knew cazzo meant dick in this instance, so it didn’t take a genius to figure out what succhiami meant. God, I loved when he spoke dirty Italian. I flicked open his belt, then unfastened his gray trousers. His black boxer briefs were made from a thin expensive material that was several notches above the plain cotton kind David owned. I let my fingers trail over the ridge near the head through the silky fabric as I watched Fausto’s face. His expression twisted in agony, his cheeks flush. “I will spank you,” he threatened. “No more teasing. Your mouth, now.”

I took him out of his clothing and got my first look at the thick glorious length of him. He was definitely bigger than average, and sized more like the men in the online porn I had occasionally watched growing up. Veins ran along the sides and the bulbous head was red and smooth.

Fausto must’ve lost patience with me because he put his hand on my head and grabbed the base of his shaft. “Succhialo.”

I opened my mouth and he thrust inside, the warm salty taste of him gliding across my tongue. Fuck, I liked that. I closed my eyes, but he snapped, “Eyes on me. Clasp your hands behind your back.”

My clit pulsed in happiness, my body drunk on him, completely turned on by his dominance. I complied, keeping my gaze on his and putting my hands behind my back as he started to tunnel in and out of my mouth. I tried to keep my jaw and throat relaxed, and Fausto took advantage, thrusting deep until I gagged. “That’s it,” he said. “I want to see tears streaming down your cheeks from having your face fucked.”

I couldn’t help it—I moaned. His nostrils flared. “Tu sei perfetta. Cristo santo, tu sei perfetta.”

He didn’t hold back any longer, fucking my mouth with rough strokes, his hand still on my head, guiding me. “Relax your throat, bellissima. Let me in.”

He pushed and I gagged, but he didn’t withdraw. Instead, he waited until I recovered and took another breath. Then he advanced a tiny bit more. Tears spilled over my lashes and I struggled to breathe.

---