Page 23 of Married to the Mafia

There’s a flicker of a smile on his face. “Want to find out?”

“Please don’t do this,” I try. “Please let me go.”

He shakes his head, reaching behind me and unhooking my bra clasp. “You shouldn’t think you need to be modest. Tomorrow, we will be married. You will be my bride. You will belong to me.”

“Why?” I say, my voice a whine. “I don’t understand why.”

“You don’t have to understand. You just have to obey.”

“Is this about the shelter? You can demolish it, I don’t care. Just let me go.”

He pulls at the bra straps and then I’m topless. I fold my arms across my chest, trying to maintain the last shreds of dignity. He smiles again, glancing down at my arms.

“Suit yourself,” he says, kneeling down on the floor. As he reaches forward toward my panties, I shove my knee into his face as hard as I can.

It smacks him in the mouth. I’m so surprised by my success I’m not sure what to do. I go to kick him as he spits out blood.

He catches my leg before I can make contact, twisting me sideways until I lose my balance. I fall to the tiles with a smack and all the air goes out of my lungs. “Try again if you want,” he says. “I like a woman with some fire to her.”

I lunge for him, still gasping for air. He bats my hands away, getting his arms around me and pressing me tight in a bearhug, lifting me back to my feet.

Something happens when he does it, something I never would have expected in a million years.

I feel something.

I can’t explain what it is. It’s the way he holds me. The anger subsides and I close my eyes. For a split-second, I feel safe in that hold. I don’t want it to end.

The heat of his body feels good. The solidness too. It’s so strong. I feel safe then, like he’s protecting me.

I ignore the feeling, shoving him as hard as I can. He doesn’t let go. It’s like pushing a freight train. He’s not going anywhere until he’s ready. I might as well try to move a boulder with my bare hands.

The strength fades from me. My shoulders sag and only then does he loosen his grip. At once, I miss his touch. What the hell is wrong with me?

He kneels again, and this time I let him do it. He slides my panties to the floor, and I’m naked. He remains where he is, his eyes staring between my legs.

It’s the first time I’ve seen him show any genuine emotion. There’s color in his cheeks, and he glances up at me with hunger in his eyes.

“Into the tub,” he says at last, getting to his feet and lifting me into his arms like I weigh nothing at all.

He lowers me into the water. It’s just the right temperature. “Take as long as you need,” he says. “Press the button by the door when you’re done.”

He unlocks the door and walks out without looking back. I immediately climb out of the tub and over to the window. It’s locked. As is the door. There’s nothing in any of the drawers but towels. No razors. No scissors. Nothing I can use as a weapon.

I try my best to get the door to open, but it won’t budge. I return to the tub and before I know what I’m doing, I’m climbing back into it, sinking down and closing my eyes.

He’s seen me naked. He stripped me. That’s the worst thing that has ever happened to me. I should feel awful and I do. That’s not what scares me so much, though.

What terrifies me is the fact that a tiny part of me enjoyed it when he stripped me. What the fuck does that mean?

9

Dino

Dino

While she’s in there, I get a hold of myself. The sight of her naked body did things to me I didn’t expect. I almost lost control. That’s never happened before.

In my line of work, you need to be in total control at all times. Which I was until I saw that pussy of hers. I never wanted to be inside someone so much in my life.

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