Page 13 of Captured Fantasy

“Oh, God, right there,” she gasped. “Don’t stop…please.”

She came hard and I sucked her clit gently until she came down from the high, her body shuddering. She lay there, panting, her face flushed as I stood and rolled on a condom and knelt between her legs, pulling her body to mine. We both gasped as I slid home, entering her with a single thrust.

We fucked in silence, the bed thumping lightly against the wall. For some reason, now that I was inside her, my body wasn’t as excited as I’d been in the shower. It felt good, she was wet and she knew how to grip me and work my cock with her pussy. But I was still listless, my mind already disinterested in what my body was doing.

“Gonna come,” I said, flipping her on her stomach and entering her from behind.

“Go ahead, I’m good.”

I looked down at her and pictured Mrs. Russo like that. On her knees in front of me, her gorgeous back arched so her ass spread, presenting that tight, little pussy to be fucked. I would gather her hair in my fist so it spilled over my knuckles and thrust into her until she cried out. Until she let go and showed me just how dirty perfect Mrs. Russo could be.

CHAPTER FOUR

LORENZA

The day after my meeting with the underbosses, I woke with a new determination to fix my situation. I called Federico and asked him if someone could pick me up and bring me into town and he agreed to send one of his men around noon. Then I went upstairs and made a list of all the groceries I would need for the next two weeks.

As I wrote down the last item, a swell of rebellion moved through me and I sat back. It wasn’t fucking fair and I knew how to fix it, I just wasn’t sure if I had the spine to do it. Years of living around made men and being married to one had taught me one important piece of information—that men had a weak spot in their pants. If I could get hold of some of the underboss’s weak spots, perhaps I could negotiate with them.

Perhaps, if I could get them to trust me, to want me enough, I could have my freedom back. Or at the very least, get them to grant me favors when I needed them. A surge of resolve moved through me. Getting to my feet, I shoved the chair back and marched upstairs to my closet.

I dabbed a bottle of my most expensive perfume, the kind that smelled of money and sex, behind my ears and at my throat. After my makeup was done, I brushed out my hair to soft waves. There was a fire in my reflection’s eyes as I pulled on a set of white lace panties and a bra. Never in my life had I tried to seduce anyone, but I was pretty confident I could do it.

I picked out a blue sundress that just brushed the middle of my thigh and wrapped around at my waist. When I sat down, it would gap in the front and show my cleavage and the skirt would pull back to show my thigh. All by accident, of course.

I went downstairs and made a basket of baked goods for Amadeo and his wife because he was the only man who had stood up for me the last time I’d visited the downtown office. By the time a black SUV pulled into the driveway, I was ready and waiting on the porch.

Amadeo stepped out of the car and opened the passenger seat. “Rico said you needed a ride and I was out this way.”

I settled in my seat and put the basket on the floor. “Thank you for driving me. I made scones for you and your wife.”

He glanced at me, surprised by the gesture. “Thank you, I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

“It’s the least I can do. I hate imposing on you to drive me everywhere,” I admitted. “If I had my way, I wouldn’t.”

He nodded, pulling back onto the main street. We drove in silence for a while and then he turned on the radio and the car filled with the faint sound of classic country music.

“Where to?” he asked.

“I need to see Federico again, there was a few things I didn’t ask that I need to speak with him about in private,” I said. “And I have to go to the grocery store and to the post office to mail something.”

“Bills? I can set them up to be automated.”

I shook my head. “A card for my grandmother. It’s her birthday.”

He seemed surprised again. “I thought she passed away.”

“She’s the mother of my biological father.”

“Oh, I see.”

The fact that my mother had cheated on my father and gotten pregnant with me by an outsider was always an awkward topic of conversation. Amadeo’s jaw worked and he fiddled with the volume knob for a minute and sat back, stretching out his long legs.

“Is your biological father alive?” he asked lightly.

I shrugged. “He never wanted anything to do with me.”

Amadeo frowned, but remained quiet for the rest of the drive. We pulled up in front of the same building I’d visited the day before. Amadeo put the car in park and released a slow sigh.

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