Page 38 of The Mob Boss' Pet

But Vincenzo isn’t my boyfriend.

He’s my captor.

I swat at his hands, and he releases one cheek, only to grab my wrist and pin it to my back and push me forward. I’m not under the water anymore. My body is pressed against the white tiles, and his body is pushed up against my back.

“What’s wrong, pet?” His sultry tone wakes up my libido. I try to jerk out of his grasp. Arousal isn’t my goal here. “No, don’t fight me, Stephania.” He thrusts gently against my ass; his cock fits snugly between my cheeks.

“I just wanted a shower,” I whine.

“And you’ll have one. But first, tell me what’s bothering you.” He releases my ass cheek and cups my shoulder. “I think I know, but I want to hear it from you.”

“You read minds now?” I snap at him.

He switches his hand holding my wrist against me and uses his right hand to smack my ass.

“Do you need a spanking?” he asks, slapping my ass once more. Water splashes as he delivers three more smacks.

“No!” I wiggle beneath his grasp, but I’m not going anywhere. Not unless he wants me to.

“You’re going to defy me?” he asks in that tone of his that suggests he knows damn well what’s going on, but he just wants to be sure I’m aware of it too.

I’ve only known him a short time, but already I understand his tone of voice, his mannerisms when he moves. I can sense his mood just by the way he looks at me. Worse, it only takes a soft smile from him, a sensual command and I melt. Infuriating.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I tell him, letting my muscles sag. I’m not up for a fight. I won’t win anyway.

“What you want isn’t my concern right now. What you need is.” He lets me go and takes a step back in the shower. The top of the shampoo pops open. A moment later his hands are in my hair.

“What are you doing?” I ask, confused by the tenderness of his touch contradicting his harsh voice.

“I’m washing your hair,” he says flatly.

“Uh. Why?” I stare at the wall through the spray of water while his hands massage my scalp. Where the hell did he learn that? Never mind. I don’t care, so long as he doesn’t stop.

“Because you need to get clean,” he says simply. “Rinse,” he orders and pats my shoulders.

I turn around and walk back into the water. Before I can raise my hands, he’s already working the shampoo out. The conditioner is next, and then he grabs the soap.

“I can do—”

He stops and gives me a heated glare. Apparently, I’ve given up my rights to wash my own body. Once he’s finished washing all of me, he drops the soap back onto the dish and points to the water for me to rinse again.

It’s all very platonic, his actions, which makes my reaction to him even worse. He ran his fingers over my pussy, but he didn’t touch me—not the way I wanted.

“Good. Nice and clean,” he says. “Now.” He reaches around me and turns the water off. “Tell me what’s bothering you.” He lines up his gaze with mine. The intensity of his stare makes me take a step back, but there’s nowhere to go. I’m trapped in the shower with him still.

“Nothing. I feel better now,” I sigh.

He frowns. Disappointment touches his eyes, but he stays silent. Is he giving me a chance to dig the hole deeper?

I startle when his lips crash over mine. His hands dive into my hair, fisting my wet locks. I can only moan when his tongue invades and lashes against mine, willing me to concede. And I do.

Holding his hips, I bring him closer. His cock is hard and thick beneath my fingers, as I wrap my hand around him. Stroking slowly at first, I increase my grip until he groans against my lips.

“Fuck, Stephania,” he growls.

As I sink down to my knees, his cock is level with me. I glance up at him, not sure if this is okay. Do I have to wait for him to tell me what to do, or can I act on my own?

Another way he’s broken my mind.

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