Page 13 of Roped By Ryan

Ryan's eyes darken with that familiar mix of love and lust. As he leans in to kiss me, his lips soft and insistent, I lose myself in the connection, in the shared hunger that pulses between us.

He lines his cock up with my wet opening and slowly presses forward. Another small orgasm blasts through me as he starts to slowly circle his hips.

I dig my nails into his muscular back and hold on as the speed of his thrusts increases.

When he reaches between us and presses hard on my clit, I come screaming his name. He keeps thrusting as one climax rolls into another.

Chapter 9

Ryan

I'm sittingat my desk, the glow of my laptop illuminating the otherwise dark room. The clock on the wall reads 11:15 PM, but my inbox is still buzzing with a steady stream of emails that need answering.

Earlier, I helped Michela unpack a few boxes and then took her to dinner at The Broadway Steakhouse. She’s sound asleep in my bedroom right now, and I’m down here in my study trying to concentrate on work while my cock urges me to forget about everything but my kitten.

I ignore the fucker since business waits for no one, especially in my line of work, and I’ve been slacking over the last week while Iwooed my little kitten. I’m halfway through my last email when my phone vibrates on the desk, the name "Lorenzo" flashing on the screen.

Motherfucker. My friend calling me at this hour can’t be good. I pick up the phone, bracing myself. "Hello."

"Ryan," he states, his voice is hard and clipped, lacking the usual camaraderie. "We need to have a little talk.”

Fuck me. There’s only one reason he’d be calling me so late. “What’s up?”

“I don’t want to discuss this over the phone. Come to The King's Castle. Now." What the fuck? Lorenzo came to Silver Spoon Falls without letting me or Michela know.

My stomach tightens as my heart pounds in my chest. The King's Castle is not just any place; it’s a private strip club owned by one of the most influential mafia bosses in the country. It’s a place where deals are made, and secrets are kept—and a place where things can get very dangerous very quickly. “What’s going on, Lorenzo?”

“This isn’t the time for questions,” he snaps, impatience clear in his tone. “Just get here. I need to talk to you. Immediately.”

I clench my jaw, resisting the urge to push back. "Alright. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Make it fifteen," he says before hanging up without waiting for a response.

I stare at my phone, cold dread settling in my chest. This isn't just a casual summons—something serious is going down. I just hope it isn’t my murder.

I quickly shoot off the half-finished email, shut my laptop, and grab my jacket. Heading out the door, I debate waking Michela up to let her know I’m leaving, but I don’t want her to worry. I know my little kitten won’t be happy with me, but I also know she’ll understand. First, I’ll deal with my future brother-in-law, and then I’ll make it up to my future wife.

The drive to The King's Castle feels longer than usual, my mind racing through all the possible reasons Lorenzo could want me to meet him there. Thoughts of Michela creep in, but I push them aside, needing to stay focused.

I pull up to the nondescript building, the neon sign casting an eerie glow over the dark street. Taking a deep breath, I get out of the car and head to the entrance. The doorman gives me a knowing look and lets me in without a word.

Inside, the air is thick with the scent of expensive cigars and the low hum of whispered conversations. I navigate my way through the dimly lit corridors, finally reaching the private rooms in the back. Antonio, Lorenzo’s head of security, stands by the door, his expression grim.

"He’s waiting for you inside," Antonio says, opening the door.

I step into the room confidently; it’s the only way to deal with my friend. Lorenzo sits at a table, a glass of whiskey in front of him, his expression unreadable. Across from him sits another man I recognize—Dante Arakas, the owner of The King's Castle and a notorious mafia boss in his own right.

“Ryan,” Lorenzo says, his voice measured but icy. “Sit down.”

I comply, pulling out the chair opposite him and glancing briefly at Dante. His presence here only heightens my sense of foreboding.

I sit back in the chair in a casual pose. “I’m here. What do you need?” I ask, staring into his eyes, looking for some clue as to what he’s thinking.

Lorenzo takes a sip of his whiskey and then sets the glass down with a deliberate slowness. “You and Michela.” His nostrils flare. “What in the fuck were you thinking taking my sister to a goddamn BDSM club? Have you lost your motherfucking mind?”

At least he didn’t just shoot first and ask questions later. All the speeches I’ve been practicing for this exact moment evaporate. “I’m a single, adult male, and Michela is a single, grown woman. We can go to The Sterling Rope together if we want to.” Probably the wrong thing to say, but the words are out there now.

Dante leans back in his chair, observing me with keen interest while Lorenzo stares at me with enraged eyes. “Ryan, you and I have history. I’ve always thought of you as my best friend.” He pauses to take a deep breath. When he pinches the bridge of his nose, I realize he’s trying to maintain his control. “But Michela is my sister.”

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