Page 27 of Mafia King: Matteo
Our tongues merge in a deep kiss that leaves my cock so hard I could use it as a kickstand. I lean against her, pinning her to the wall. Her body melts into mine, and she slides her arms around my neck.
CHAPTER 10
ALENA
Some drunk practically falls in my lap, and after he’s gone, I realize he passed me a note. I cautiously open the napkin under the table.
My heart pounds in my ears. Mr. Grey is here. I’m immediately soaking at the mere thought of seeing him. I can’t wear panties with this dress, which is a problem.
I’m convinced Mr. Grey knows more than he should about me. I’m thrilled to hear from him and unsurprised when the note implies he doesn’t want me to be followed.
I excused myself, telling Kirill I needed to pee.
What does Grey want? My heart is filled with anticipation, which leaves me slick between my thighs. I ball the napkin into my fist before tossing it under a table as I pass.
I reach the stairs, glance over the railing, and see Kirill chatting up the waitress. I sigh in relief. Good. He has no idea what I’m up to.
The line waiting for the bathroom is long and can’t just be girls needing to use the toilet. I’m aware that cocaine is still the drug of choice for those who can afford it. Those who can’t wait any longer can be seen snorting white powder off the back of their hand. Others are blatantly popping pills or smoking legalized marijuana. These people remind me of a bunch of junkies outside a methadone clinic.
I walk down the corridor to the bathrooms lined with A-listers who frequent the posh place. This is the hottest place to be, but it doesn’t look so pretty right now.
Without warning, someone grabs my wrist and pulls me into the darkness. As soon as I smell the familiar cologne, I know it’s Grey. I part my lips to say something, but his lips cover mine, and a cold liquor fills my mouth and slides down my throat. The alcohol relaxes me, and I melt into his strong arms.
I’m lost in the darkness I see in his dark eyes. I parted my lips to say something, but his lips covered mine. The kiss is soft, and my knees grow weak. His arms pull me safely into his chest.
He puts his empty glass on a nearby table and takes me by the hand.
He pulls away from our kiss, which has intensified.
“This way,” he says as he leads me back through the crowd, and we enter a dimly lit hallway. “Who are you with?” His voice is hostile and accusing.
“A friend.”
“I suggest you don’t go out with other men. You’re mine.”
“You don’t own me,” I snap back.
“We’ll see about that, Il Mio piccolo angelo,” he replies, pinning me against the wall.
I’m sure that last word is angel. One can’t live in New York City and not pick up some words in another language.
“You’re sexy as fuck in high heels. I can’t wait to make your toes curl when you come on my cock.”
I’m breathless with my need for his cock to be inside me. I’ve wanted him to thrust himself into my wet pussy from the second I received his note.
“You are mine,” he mutters against my ear. His warm breath brushes the tiny hair on my neck, causing goosebumps to spread like fire up my back. “From now on, you can only wear this dress when I’m with you,” he says as his hand slides under my dress and his fingers slip inside me. He fingerfucks me until the noise of the club fades into the background. “You’re dripping for me,” he murmurs.
His teeth nip at my neck, and his hand grabs my breast, and he massages it through the fabric. I writhe under his attention. My nipple betrays me as it forms into a hard nub when he rubs his thumb over it. My knees buckle in submission.
He grabs the back of my thighs and lifts me off the floor. Grinding his pelvis into mine, I feel his hard cock between my legs and cling to his shoulders, bracing myself to be fucked.
I’m helpless, pinned against the wall. It’s exhilarating to give myself to him when he forces his porn star-sized cock into me. I moan and bite my lower lip to keep the noise muffled.
He moves in and out of me, faster and faster, until he’s pounding my pussy into a tantric state that makes my toes clench inside my shoes. Fuck him for being right about that.
His hands are under my butt cheeks, holding me as he continues to thrust inside me. My back is riding the wall, and my dress is shoved to my waist. With all the friction he creates, I wouldn’t be surprised to have my back torn up from riding the wall. I’ve had carpet burns before; wall burns—no. A cold draft caresses my naked ass. It’s exhilarating and liberating.
What if we’re caught?
