by Sam Crescent
Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2019 Sam Crescent
ISBN: 978-1-77339-972-0
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Editor: Karyn White
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
THE MAFIA’S CURVY WOMAN
Curvy Women Wanted, 15
Sam Crescent
Copyright © 2019
Prologue
There was something sexy about watching a woman take care of children. Marco Guidi stared across the garden of the man he was currently visiting to do business with. Dean Marshall helped the mafia out whenever they needed him, and in return he got to live a life of total luxury with his wife and kids.
One of those kids was none other than twenty-one-year-old Petal, who had his attention and had been holding it since she turned eighteen. He shouldn’t keep coming here. It would get suspicious, but when it came to Petal, Marco had no control over who he wanted.
She was the reason he made every excuse he could to see Dean.
The man was good at what he did, clearing computers and creating new identities as well as making people disappear.
“This is everything you need,” Dean said, handing him a large brown envelope.
“Thanks.” Marco grabbed the envelope, taking a peek inside just to make sure. Dean was good, but if at any point he thought he could get away with shitting on them, Marco had no qualms about putting a bullet in his head.
“It’s all there. You know I’m good for it.” Dean rubbed his hands on his jeans.
“I’ve got to check.” Once he was satisfied, he pulled out his much smaller envelope with the money needed to pay, but held it back as he looked toward Petal.
“Why don’t we trade something else?” Marco asked.
“Excuse me?” Dean looked from Marco toward where Petal was standing and back again. “Oh, I know why you come here, Marco.”
“Mr. Guidi.” He reminded the other man of his place.
“Sorry, Mr. Guidi. Petal is a beautiful girl.”
“I know. So why don’t you tell me about her?”
“You want to know if she’s a virgin? Yes, she is. She’s sweet and kind too. No guy has been sniffing around her.”
He liked that. “I want her.”
“She’s twenty-one.”
“I don’t care about her age.”
Dean looked toward his daughter as if he wanted to disagree.
“I will only ever conduct business with you. I will also raise my other payments by twenty percent for each request I make of you.” Marco knew he was making the man an offer he couldn’t refuse. “I’ll take care of her, and she’ll want for nothing.”
“You want to give me money and take my daughter as well?”
“Yes. Do we have a problem?” Marco could take her if he wanted. He didn’t need to make a deal like this. Whatever he wanted, he got.
Marco wasn’t normally the kind of guy to take human beings as payment. This was a personal transaction between him and Dean. He needed information on one of the Capos who he believed was taking bribes from the local cops, but he also wanted Petal, and he’d been wanting her for some time now.
Normally it was the cops in their pocket, but it would appear this Capo had been put in a vulnerable position and now it was up to Marco to deal with it.
One more glance over at Petal, he couldn’t deny how captivating she was. There was only so much he could take, and he’d denied himself so many times. Would it really be wrong to take her for his own? No, he didn’t think it was.
“Not many guys would take her. She’s too fat for them.”
Marco wanted nothing more than to grab his gun and shoot the bastard’s fucking face off. Petal wasn’t a slim girl. She had curves, and they were in all the right places. Nice, full tits, more than a generous handful. Her waist was small, but flared out into wide hips that made him want to hold her as he fucked her hard. Her thighs were not small either. She didn’t have the gap between, but he wanted them wrapped around his waist as he pounded inside her.
He wanted this curvy woman all to himself.
“Deal?” pressed Marco.
“Deal,” Dean said.
He was more than willing to take Petal off of Dean’s hands. What the other man needed to realize was he wasn’t going to get his daughter back.
Chapter One
Petal wasn’t stupid. Her father and mother liked to pretend she didn’t have a brain or that she couldn’t hear. They wanted to keep her wrapped up in a tight little bubble where she didn’t know they worked for the mafia or did a lot of illegal shit. She knew they were on the local law enforcement’s watch list.
She had seen them come in and arrest her father in the middle of the night. By the time morning came, her father was back home and not a mention to him being escorted out of the house at night.
Just like she knew arriving at Marco Guidi’s apartment in the middle of the city wasn’t some housekeeping job. She had heard her parents talking. They didn’t like having her around the house. She asked too many questions, and they were worried she’d open her mouth or talk to the wrong kind of person.
She loved her family very much, though maybe a little less as she knew she was being sold. She’d never, ever snitch on her family. They meant the world to her.
Still, she stood in the middle of the sitting room, waiting.
Marco Guidi.
He was a handsome man. Sexy in a dark, mysterious kind of way. Whenever she looked at him, his gaze always seemed to hold dark secrets.
Secrets she knew she shouldn’t want to know but intrigued her still.
There was no denying an attraction to him, and knowing she’d been “sold” to him turned her on. She wasn’t ignorant of the kind of man he was either.
Maybe she should be.
Marco confused her in every single way.
He was a deadly man, fierce, strong, and she had no doubt he’d killed a lot of people in his time.
Still, her want of him hadn’t diminished or faded, even knowing partially what he was capable of.
Running her fingers through her brown hair, she looked around the pristine apartment.
There was no reason for him to have a housemaid. From how clean the apartment was, she figured he had someone he trusted come in a couple of times a week.
Stepping over to the windows, she quickly moved back.
Heights were not her thing. She was terrified of them, and even when she watched movies based on heights, her body got all sweaty.
“It’s a wonderful view,” Marco said.
She spun around to see the very man himself in the main living room, watching her. She hadn’t even heard him come in.
“Were you here?” she asked.
“No, I stepped out.”
“Oh.”
“Do you like the view?”
“It’s lovely.”
He wore one of his classic suits. She had noticed her only ever wore black suits, and once again, he was in black. Did he always expect to attend a funeral?
“You’re afraid of heights?”
She glanced behind her, not wanting to look down. “A little bit, yeah.”
“I’m afraid it’s something you’re going to have to get used to.”
“I guess.” She pressed her hands together, not really sure what she should or shouldn’t be doing. “What kind of job is it that I’ve got?”
“Your father told you it was a job?”
“Yes.” She nodded her head.
Marco walked closer to her. Each step he took, Petal found her body responding to him. She wanted him to touch her, to put those huge hands on her and make all of her fantasies come true.
Living with her father, she’d been restricted in everything she could do. She wasn’t allowed to attend a regular high school. She’d been shipped off to an all girls’ school, only allowed to return when he wanted her around or for the holidays.
The men around her always kept their distance, until now.
Marco was the first man she had been alone in a room with. Her father or mother would always miraculously enter a room.
She often wondered what it would be like without her meddling parents, but she had yet to find out.
Petal had no choice but to tilt her head back as Marco advanced closer to her.
“I don’t want you cleaning my place, or touching anything.”
“Then why am I here?” she asked.
His lips were so close.
She’d never been kissed. Never even been felt up by a guy.
The only thing her father hadn’t restricted was her reading. She could read as much as she wanted for as long as she wanted. She had absorbed every kind of romance there was, and even more so. Anything that was related to romance in any way.
She craved it.
To be loved.
To love.
Sex.
Fucking.
All of it.
It was probably wrong for a twenty-one-year-old virgin to have an illicit affair, to be at the mercy and skill of an older man and to even fall in love, but it was what she wanted. She fantasized a lot about her future, even with this man in front of her.
Marco had featured in every single dream, and she wanted his touch more than anything else.
He reached out, and she tried so hard to hold her gasp as he stroked her cheek.
“You’re here for one reason and one reason alone, to please me.”
His words made her pussy wet. She wasn’t embarrassed, humiliated, or upset. Why would she be? Marco was the man she had wanted.
“You’re to be my Pet, Petal.”
****
She wasn’t running away screaming, and Marco considered that a plus. It never ended well if they were always screaming. He often found it really fucking annoying, not that he’d propositioned a woman like this before.
He fucked and left. That was his thing.
“What do I do then?”
“You wait for me.”
“I wait for you?” she asked.
“This is your new home. You can do whatever you want. Have what you want.” He pulled a credit card out of his wallet. “This is yours.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“You’ll get it all the same.”
“So I’m going to be a whore.”
“No.”
“But by the very definition, I will be. You want to fuck me, and you’re going to pay me for the pleasure.”
He knew what he wanted to do with her dirty mouth and it was have those lips wrapped around his cock.
“A whore takes whatever client who wants her. I won’t be sharing you. You’ll belong to me. You won’t be a whore. In a way, you’ll be my wife.”
“Your wife?”
“Yes. Without the need for a ring or any of that other bullshit people seem to like.”
She stared down at the card. “This makes me a little uncomfortable.”
“But knowing I want to have sex with you doesn’t?”
“No.”
He stared at her, even more intrigued. Glancing down, he admired her curves in the tight jeans and revealing top she wore. It was a camisole top with thin straps but molded to her body.
One of the straps was falling down her shoulder, and every couple of seconds, she moved it back up into place.
He wanted to peel her clothes off.
Why not have a look at the goods?
“Strip.”
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
She still held the credit card, and he stood back as she looked back at the windows.
“We’re far enough up, no one can see us. You’re safe.” He would have to set some ground rules with her. There was no way he’d let anyone look at her or even glance at her. She belonged to him and only him.
He wasn’t very good at sharing. Never had been.
She put the credit card on the nearest table, and then, working with her jeans first, she unsnapped the button.
He watched her as she swung her hips from side to side as she wriggled out of the jeans, kicking them off.
The torture was prolonged as she picked them up, folding them. He didn’t need to know if she was neat or not. What he needed was for her to just get naked.
Next, she lifted up her camisole shirt, doing exactly the same as with the jeans, folding it neatly.
She stood before him in a pair of white ankle socks, an off-grey bra, and the same colored panties.
Ugly underwear aside, Marco didn’t have a problem with her. She was fucking stunning.
“I said strip. I didn’t say you could stop.”
Her cheeks were red, but she didn’t voice a complaint or ask him to stop.
He watched her, completely entranced.
She flicked the catch of her bra first, and she had beautiful, tight, red nipples. They were made for his mouth. She pulled her panties off, and then with her hands once again clasped in front of her, pressing those tits together, she kept her head bowed.
Like the perfect little submissive.
He’d called her pet, but he was no Dominant. He liked to fuck and use a little bondage, but he wasn’t a master.
He grabbed her arms and moved her into the center of the room so he could get a good look at her.
Some men wouldn’t want her, as she was on the larger side, but he had a thing for her curves. He wanted to get his hands all over her, to have her spread out for him, at his mercy, begging for his touch.
He wouldn’t have cared if she was a virgin or not, but knowing no one else had touched her, well, that was one of the best fucking dreams in the world.
She would belong only to him. He took her hands, lifting them up so he could see every single part of her.
“Do you like what you see?” she asked.
Marco walked around her. He placed a hand on her stomach, and he couldn’t help but wonder what she’d look like swollen with his child. Avoiding her pussy and tits, he already saw how erect her nipples were, and the apartment wasn’t cold.
He liked to keep it a certain temperature as he didn’t like the cold himself.
Walking behind her, he placed a palm on her ass, feeling the curves.
She let out a little gasp as he slid his hand down her thighs, then up, inspecting her as a man would some kind of brood mare.
When he stepped back in front of her, he knew he’d pissed her off.
“I more than like.” Taking her hand, he placed it on his rock-hard dick for her to touch. “Feel that. It’s what you do to me every single time I’m in the same room.”
He expected her to just hold him, to keep her palm resting on his dick. Petal was full of surprises as she began to rub him through his clothing. Slow at first, but then she gripped him tightly.
Not so tightly there was pain, but enough to know she wasn’t afraid of him.
He liked it. He wanted more of it.
Stroking her cheek, he tilted her head back, wanting her lips. Just as he was about to take the kiss he wanted, his phone rang.
He sighed. “Duty calls.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled away from temptation and went and dealt with business.
After all, business would always come first.
Chapter Two
One week later, Petal chopped up the vegetables to go into her stir-fry. It had been a week of being in the apartment with nothing to do but wait for Marco to arrive. He’d left unexpectedly and had yet to return.
Since he left her in the middle of his sitting room, naked, he’d not called or given her any details.
She’d made up her own entertainment, fed herself, and cleaned.
Her days were spent either cleaning, unnecessarily, any of his rooms, thoroughly, apart from his office and bedroom. She knew how much her father hated it when someone entered his zone and would often bitch if they even dared to step inside.
She wouldn’t go into any of those personal places.
The last thing she wanted was to get shot. She didn’t want to die, nor did she have any kind of death wish.
One day, she hoped to have a family of her own. It was a wish of hers and possibly even more far off than it was a week ago. Still, she would always hold out hope for her own happy ever after.
She drained the noodles and tossed them into the wok, giving them a good stir. Today she was really hungry, but she had made way too much.
“Lunch tomorrow.”
Grabbing her bowl of food, she made sure the stove was turned off before heading into the dining room.
Marco lived in a rather luxurious apartment. It was spacious, and even as she was going stir crazy, it wasn’t so bad most of the time. She had a small placemat for her meal as she didn’t want to damage the wood of the table.
She used the chopsticks she had found and began to slurp up her food, enjoying the explosion of flavor on her tongue. Closing her eyes, she ate some more and paused when she heard the door opening.
Should she go and see who it was? Was it even Marco? Had someone come to kill her?
Her thoughts went rampant until she watched Marco enter the dining room. She couldn’t speak as he looked at her. His gaze was on her and then the table.
