Page 26 of Mafia Princess

“I don’t think so.”

In one swift move he places the bread knife, one I didn’t realize he had on him, on the vanity and grabs my waist and deposits me on my ass. “I don’t take no for an answer.”

“I didn’t say no.” I stare at him. Jesus, what am I thinking here?

“Take your panties off.” He leans in, a flash of hunger dancing across his predatory features.

“You take them off,” I say defiantly. Two can play this game. I’m not one to be ordered around.

With a quick dart of his hand, he snatches up the serrated bread knife and lifts my dress with his other hand. “Do you trust me?” He regards me for a moment and before I can even open my mouth he has my panties in his fingers and with one sharp pull, he cuts them off me.

“I won’t ask again. Open your legs.” His voice turns vicious

For some reason, as much as I try to fight it, I do as he says. The excitement and the promise of punishing release gets the better of me. I’m going straight to hell, and there’s no turning back now.

I watch as his eyes darken a shade, if that’s even possible, and a wicked poison coats his aura. I feel like I’m getting in deeper than I want.

His large hand grips me around the waist and he pulls me until I’m at the edge of the vanity for better access. “Lean back, Principessa.” Milan stands to full height and from this angle, I can see why others find him so intimidating. He oozes danger like a whore oozes sex appeal. It’s all I see and it’s all I want. “Don’t make a sound.”

He runs his thumb along my opening, coating it with my arousal until he reaches my clit and presses against it. A sadistic smirk plays on his enticing mouth. I want this more than I care to admit. I want him to make me forget that I’m just as fucked up as he is. That we are one of the same.

“Are you ready, Principessa?” He pushes his thumb inside me and presses on my sensitive part, massaging it in rhythm with my heartbeat. A low moan escapes my parted lips in response, and I watch his eyes light up as he removes his thumb and sucks my arousal off.

He presses the handle of the knife to my clit and circles it and pushes the cold hard edge against me, flicking it at just the right angle to make me hiss. “You like that?” He slides the knife handle down to my opening and pushes it in, pumping it in and out agonizingly slowly at first. I watch his face as he picks up the pace, his gaze never leaving my pussy.

Fear washes over me at that point, heightening my arousal as he continues to fuck me with the handle of the bread knife. I watch him stare at his hand, and his expression both terrifies me and makes me grind against the handle seeking release.

“Make yourself come without a sound, Principessa.” His voice has lowered an octave, and he looks as though he’s fighting the urge to take me right here.

I do as he says and brace one heel up on the vanity, opening wider to him, all the while having complete faith he won’t slice me open. I circle my clit and pulsate it between my finger and thumb, the pressure already building. I watch as his breathing changes to match mine, my fingers working faster as my heart rate skyrockets. I’m so fucking wet, the sound is embarrassing.

I’m right on the edge of shattering and I don’t fucking care who hears me at this point. He looks into my eyes then and I see the devil staring back at me.

“Don’t make a fucking noise or I will slice you open,” he growls, as he presses the handle hard against me. This is all it takes to undo me, and I bite down on my lip as my orgasm rips through me. I keep eye contact with him the whole time, holding my breath to not make a sound. I feel myself pulsate around the handle as shockwave after shockwave vibrates through me.

“Good girl.” He slides out the knife handle, and I can see he’s cut his hand from the serrated edge.

I take in a deep breath that I so desperately need after holding it for so long and lean against the mirror for support, my legs still wide open. I watch him wash his hands and the knife under the tap and grab the washcloth to wrap around his hand.

“How are you going to explain that one?” I look at him, surprising myself that I’m not embarrassed for what we just did.

“I’ll tell them I saved the Principessa.”

“Like a true knight saving his damsel.” I snort and place my hand against my forehead, pretending I’m fainting.

“You’re no damsel in distress. The woman staring back at me is just as fucked up and ruthless as I am. So, why are you seeking a hero?” His expression turns cold.

“You’re no hero, Milan, as much as I’m no damsel.” I correct him.

I must hit a nerve because he returns to his usual emotionless self and glares daggers at me. He turns on his expensive leather boots and exits the powder room without another word.

I hop down from the vanity and quickly pick up my panties that have dropped to the floor and shove them in the bin. Grabbing the clean hand towel, I clean up the leftover drops of blood and throw the towel with the other trash before escaping back upstairs to my babies. There’s no way I’m going back to the dining room and sitting across from Milan after that. Besides, I know I don’t have a fucking say in anything, anyway.

TEN

Maya

Three days have passed since the powder room incident. I’ve been holed up here on Staten Island, planning my next move. I open up my laptop and check the surveillance Rico sent through. He’s the only other one I have divulged my secret to. The fewer people involved, the better. I watch the sick bastard on the screen as he drags an innocent woman by her hair into his strip club and fuck knows what she’s had to endure since. I just fucking hope she’s still alive. If all my ducks line up, I’ll have this fuckers head on a plate in no time.

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