Page 18 of Ruthless Boss

I’ll show you not to disrespect me again, bitch.

The sound of a slap across my face, followed by another and another, resonates vividly inside me as if it just happened. I try to blink myself out of this episode, this awful memory that quickens my heart rate in the worst way. But now, it’s different—harder than the other times.

“What is it?” Dante asks, a frown forming on his forehead.

“Talk to me,” I blurt out. “I don’t like quiet.” I lie. I like quiet, but this is the first time we’re having sex. It’s the first time I’ve had someone inside me since I left my ex. And I can’t think of Ciro right now. Then other memories—the pig-like grunting noises Ciro made, how his face twisted when he screwed me, and how fucking heavy his body was the second after he came—when he’d lay on me, regardless of how much bigger he was, for a long ass time, hurting me.

Those ugly images menace me. Dante must pick up on it because he doesn’t move and looks at me intently. “You’re scared.”

“Talk to me,” I whisper, a trace of despair in my voice like I’m about to run out of breath. If we don’t have sex now, this will be a failure. The problem will present itself, and I’ll be worse off. My past won’t be only a lingering uninvited guest; it’ll become a permanent resident of my mind. “You can do whatever you want. But don’t stop talking.”

It is as though we’re walking in a dangerous neighborhood at night, on foot, and I stretch out my hand to him—then when he gives it to me, I cling to it.

He lifts his eyebrow and shifts, and for a moment, I wonder if he’ll up and leave. He’s a hot man. He can find any woman willing to fuck him. A woman less messed up, without issues. Who am I? I’m nobody. And he’s a successful mafia boss.

Tears form in my eyes, and I close them violently, blinking them back. If I cry right now, the sex will be over. Dante will never touch me again. And I may never get over my past. Strangely, I know Dante holds the key to unlocking this trauma and helping me overcome it—even if he doesn’t know it. I need him now.

He watches me, and his expression softens. “Whatever I want,” he says and nips my jaw. “You’ll regret being so generous.”

I swallow the lump of uncertainty lodged in my throat. “Prove me wrong.”

10

Dante

I glance down at her.

Up close like this, my hot nanny is even more tempting. Her dirty blonde hair is on the pillow, her brown eyes flicker in a mix of fear and anticipation, and her lips are full and swollen from our kiss.

She's tense, her shoulders stiff. I may not be the most sensitive guy, but even I can tell something bothers her—she's triggered, and I wish I knew why. Asking her now is futile. She'll change the subject, anyway. My only option is to see this through and give her what she needs—while also getting what I want.Her.

Carefully, I move inside her. She's so tight that I have to gather all my focus not to let go and come straight away. She needs more—she needs me to talk. I haven't always been good at talking, but dirty talking is different. There are no feelings or secrets exposed. No regret and no promises. That I can do.

"I thought of you last night," I say.

"You did?" she hisses when I pull out midway.

I slam into her all the way to her hilt. "The way you looked when you touched yourself that night… I was jealous of your vibrator. I wanted to yank it out of your hand and slam into you."Like I'm doing now,I add inwardly, and to prove a point, curl my hips in a certain way, thrusting deeper into her.

She gasps and clamps her inner walls around my dick, and oxygen leaves my brain for a moment. I growl.

"I thought about you too," she says. "I touched myself."

A shiver of excitement rolls down my spine. "Did you use your toys?"

"Yes."

"Which one?" I quicken the pace, slipping in and out of her, fucking her. The image of her fucking herself with toys sneaks into my brain, and my internal temperature immediately rises.

"Both," she says, her voice breathy, her body softer, more relaxed.

"You're a filthy girl, Lucia," I say, my voice low and intimate. My balls are heavy, and anticipation stirs in my chest. Fucking her is heaven, but I need to cling to every ounce of self-control not to bring us to an early finish.

"Maybe I shouldn’t tell you I used them simultaneously," she says mischievously.

The image only fuels the fire, and I bite my tongue. If she continues like this, I won't last long. "Fuck."

She chews her lower lip, a glaze of raw desire crossing her eyes. "Yes."

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