The Power of a Woman: A Mafia Erotic Romance

by Gina Whitney

  The morning sun reflected off the pool and streamed shades of blue through the window, illuminating the wisps of dust motes in the air. I pulled in a languid breath and held it for a moment. For the first time in a few days, my muscles didn’t ache. I smiled at that notion. However, I realized I had a different feminine ache only Stefan could quench.

  I had tried to reach out to him a few times over the last week, yet he continued to give me the same response—”you need time to heal.”

  Fuck that.

  Time seemed to stretch out, and I feared the separation between us would last forever. I looked at my watch before I stepped into a pretty summer dress. I needed some time with him. He wanted me to heal. However, what he didn’t understand was that my healing rested in his hands—literally. His hand, his mouth, and his cock. Besides, it was way too beautiful a morning to stay in my bed—alone. The longing I felt for him was on autopilot and completely independent. I was a woman on a mission. I had questions that needed answers, and this had to be done in person. He’d abated me with his short texts long enough. Before any family interruptions, I ran down the stairs, kissed my father’s cheek chastely, and bolted toward the door.

  He dramatically cleared his throat, which meant stop right there. I knew without a doubt the questions that would come. “Where are you going so early, Jordana?” His eyes scanned me, searching for compliance.

  “Gym.” My eyes closed as I remembered the clothes I had put on. Fuck. I wasn’t dressed for the gym. Quick. Quick. Quick.

  “Dressed like that?” I heard the rustle of his newspaper as he closed it and set it aside, which meant he’d start his worrying shit. Jesus, today was not the day for this.

  “Umm, actually, I have my clothes in my locker. I’ll change there. I’m planning on meeting Laura and doing lunch.” I shrugged before meeting his eyes, hoping like hell he believed me. The good thing about being the only daughter was being a Daddy’s girl. And with that title came manipulation. The kind of manipulation that all fathers were born blind to.

  He ran his hand over his freshly shaven face, and the scent of his after-shave reminded me of when I was a kid. His eyes narrowed and I knew the wheels and cogs were turning, so I stood firm, meeting his gaze as we squared off. I didn’t smirk or blink. Only stared.

  He nodded. Bingo. “I think the gym and Laura will be good for you. Maybe work off some of your anger over the mugging. You could use a meal, Jordana. Where’s my girl and her appetite?” His fingers came together in front of his face—it was the Italian way. “I wish you would eat. Then I’d know you’re happy. This…” He gestured toward my disappearing figure. “…isn’t a happy Jordana.” His lips thinned and his eyes watered.

  Food and our culture go hand in hand. It’s not merely a means for survival, it defines who we are. I mentally chastised myself to keep from rolling my eyes. He had no idea what I’d been through in the past week. The abuse I’d suffered. He only knew the story I chose to tell him. I needed to beat him at his game, so I stepped forward and hugged him tightly.

  “Daddy, you’re always right.” I smiled innocently up at him. “I plan on having a good meal this morning. I want to be properly nourished before I work out. That’s why I’m leaving so early.” I dipped in for another quick kiss before opening the door. “I love you, Daddy…” I called out before closing the door behind me.

  His key dangled from a silver Tiffany’s “J” initial key ring, and the weight squeezed my heart. This was no ordinary key. It was the key to his elevator, the only way onto his floor. I stuck the key in the slot and turned it to the right, and then pressed the button for the penthouse until it illuminated. There was no turning back now.

  Desperate to quell my nerves, I shook my hands out and prayed like hell he wouldn’t be too pissed at my wake-up call. The doors opened with a resounding ding, echoing around me and ringing in my ears. Could that be any louder? I shook my head and silently cursed at the quakes that had taken over my muscles, causing me to appear frightened.

  I wasn’t frightened…I was high on adrenaline.

  His suite was dark, silent, and there was no sign of Stefan. I smiled, anticipating waking him up in a sexy way. I swiftly slipped off my shoes and tiptoed across the marble expanse of his entryway through the kitchen. His room was the third door off the living room, the same room I’d shared with him for three days. As I approached his closed door, memories of the last time I was here flooded my head. A slight dizziness swept through me, and for a second, I almost panicked. I couldn’t quite explain why I felt that way, other than it was an instinctual response that clearly spoke of my state of mind. Inside, I was not as healed as my physical wounds were.

  I heard Stefan’s soft snoring through the oak door. As I pressed my forehead firmly into the wood—thinking of what the next few hours would look like—a calm came over me and desire flooded my panties. A thousand images played through my mind.

  Me riding him.

  Him bending me over.

  I opened the door slowly and watched the sheets rise and fall over his prone body. My mouth watered while my hands ached to run over his smooth, olive skin. I longed to feel the steady beat of his heart. The rhythm of his blood as it pounded through his veins. A fine dusting of dark hair shadowed his chest, and a narrowing thin line ran down beneath the sheet. The ridges of his body and hard planes of his chest as he drew deep, even breaths would forever be branded in my mind.

  My eyes quickly landed on his hardened cock, tenting the soft, white sheet that covered the lower half of his body. I couldn’t see his flesh, but I already knew what it looked like. I knew the veins, the skin, and the heaviness of his cock without needing to pull back the covers—it was ingrained in my memory. But what I didn’t know was…what was he thinking about?

  I quickly unbuttoned my dress and let it drop to the floor along with my panties. The morning sun beamed through the tiny slots of the blinds, casting an ethereal visage of him. He was anything but angelic. It was in that moment where I remembered something he’d said to me… “In times of need, even the devil eats flies.” Was I his fly?

  My eyes narrowed, taking in the articles atop his nightstand. A picture frame angled toward the bed, filled with a candid shot of me sleeping. He must have taken this during my stay here, I thought. A sob welled in my chest and I rubbed it in an effort to dispel it. I hated how feminine he made me feel at times. How emotional and sensitive he could make me. It went against everything I’d worked so hard for. The power. I leaned against the mattress, bracing myself against the onslaught of emotions that seemed to overtake me, fighting to make them go away. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes tightly to calm my frayed nerves, needing a moment to myself.

  Strong hands grabbed my waist, pulling me up and over him onto the bed, landing me on my back. My eyes flew open in surprise and my jaw dropped. I took in a deep breath, on the verge of releasing a panicked scream, but then I looked into the soft brown eyes of the only person capable of calming me.

  “Did you think you’d surprise me, Tesoro? If so, you’ll have to try harder than that,” he said as he hovered above me, his brow raised in question.

  I shrugged, not answering. Fuck, my heart was in my throat and I couldn’t seem to process anything past the shock of his surprise. If I hadn’t been staring into his comforting gaze, I would’ve screamed in panic. The feeling of surprise didn’t sit well with me, regardless of whom it came from. It didn’t matter. My nerves were still clearly fried after my rendezvous with Scarface, and I hated the reaction it left me with. I hated the increased heart rate, the lightheadedness, and the deep fear that caused my body to freeze up.

  “I practically sleep with one eye open. You can’t sneak up on me. I knew you were here before you even stepped on the elevator.” His eyes danced, almost teasing me. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked after taking my hand and forcing me to stroke his bare dick.

  I nodded while breathing heavily, desperately attempting to regain control of my emotions.r />
  He pulled my hand away and rolled me over, running his raging erection along the crevice of my ass. Heat spread through me like an unmanageable, devastating fire, and I couldn’t hold back the moan that ripped through my chest.

  “I’m happy to see you, Tesoro. Even though I’d specifically told you to rest.” He couldn’t hide the lust from his voice. His bare, fiery flesh covered my body from head to toe. Flesh I desperately wanted in my mouth, or pussy. Dealer’s choice… “But I believe I made myself clear that we were to wait. After everything we went through, you still don’t listen.” He tsked while grinding against my bare derrière.

  All I wanted was some alone time with him. I hadn’t seen him in a week, and we’d barely spoken through text messages. I’d missed him. Yes, I wanted sex, but that wasn’t all I craved. After spending three days having him all to myself, taking our relationship to new heights, I hated the separation no matter what his intentions were.

  “Whatever you’re thinking, forget it. You came here—after I told you to wait—for a reason. So let me give it to you.” Stefan leaned back on his knees abruptly, giving me enough room to roll onto my back, which allowed me to watch as he moved to his dresser. After some rustling, he turned, letting the length of his leather belt hit the floor with a thud. “Arms above your head.” His tone was severe and left me with no room to argue.

  He wound the belt around my wrists, securing it to the headboard. I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face, the anticipation of what was to come making wet and delirious.

  “Tell me, why did you come here after I specifically told you to wait?”

  I swallowed the dry lump in my throat. “I was horny.”

  “So you came here because you wanted me to get you off?”

  I bit my lip and nodded.

  His gaze moved to rest on his closet door. I followed, wondering what the fuck was in there. He left the bed, causing me to check out his bare ass, watching the way his muscles flexed as he walked. All I could hear were what sounded like boxes, moving and shuffling. When he reappeared, he waved around some sort of bar I’d never seen before. What is that for?

  “You wanted an orgasm…so I’ll make sure you get one,” he said while fastening my ankles to the contraption. A devious smirk covered the lower half of his face while his brown eyes lit up like embers from a blazing fire.

  “Oh, thank God.”

  “You won’t be saying that in a minute. You said you were horny and wanted an orgasm, so I’ll show you what that means. Maybe after this, you’ll think twice about coming here after I’ve told you not to.” His eyes darkened and a shiver rolled through my body clear down to my toes.

  “I only wanted to see you…” I whispered, unease choking me. I pulled against my restraints, suddenly realizing maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. The emotional scars Zeke left were clear to see as I struggled against the bindings. “Please,” I cried out in panic. And it fucking killed me to beg—the meaning now something very different after Scarface.

  He walked over to the top of the bed and kissed my forehead gently, as if he were saying goodbye. My stomach turned. Just when I thought this man couldn’t squeeze another emotion out of me. Bam. He wrings out another three. “I’ve got you, and always will. Trust. Without it, we have nothing. It’s bigger than us both, babe.” His fingers skimmed the length of my body, causing my flesh to rise. He then fell to his knees grabbing for something from beneath his bed.

  His breathing was tempered, his face fierce, and my mood darkened. A storm raged inside me, threatening to damage everything in my path—us. My gaze moved to the foreign object his hand as he swung it around like a singer would swing a microphone by the chord.

  “Wh–what’s that?”

  “It’s called an Hitachi. It’s essentially a vibrator.”

  Hitachi?

  He leaned onto the bed with his knee. “This will make you understand what it truly means to be horny. And after I’m done…I can guarantee that you’ll want me to get you off.”

  I turned away, refusing to look at him.

  He gripped my chin between his fingers, forcing me to meet his eyes again. “Although I appreciate the effort and desire to see me, you need to understand that when I say ‘not now,’ I mean, not now.” He sighed and closed his eyes briefly, appearing to pull himself together. “Fuck, Jordana. My father is in an uproar over Zeke. This building has been swarmed with him and his men this past week. I’ve wanted nothing more than to see you, but it’s not a good time.”

  I nodded, gritting my teeth. His eyes darkened as he hid the love that I desperately needed to see. His cock bobbed as he came to stand between my legs. Once. Twice. A single pearl of liquid danced across the top. I found myself hypnotized by the sight until the hum of the Hitachi regained my attention as he pressed it against my clit.

  My hips bucked, and my hands grabbed air. I squeezed my eyes closed, wishing I had something tangible to tie me to this earth. I had nothing…absolutely nothing. The sensation drove me mad. So I stretched my muscles painfully in an effort to redirect the sensations elsewhere. Fuck. My breaths came in little pants and my heart nearly pounded out of my chest. I turned and twisted to the best of my ability, trying to chase my orgasm. He moved the vibrator, angling it different ways before abruptly pulling it away.

  My head lolled to one side as my words shot out without thought. “What do you want? I’ll do anything…” I didn’t dare open my eyes out of fear for what I’d see. But the huff of breath against my lower stomach had my body clenching.

  The sound of the vibrations through the air prickled my skin as his hand skimmed across my pussy and up across my stomach where it came to rest against my heart. He didn’t answer verbally, but I knew what his gesture meant.

  “You have that!” I screamed.

  He applied steady pressure again, but now, pushing the head into me. The setting was on pulse. Pulse. Buzz. Pulse. Pulse. Buzz. And not a word…

  “Please,” I continued, demanding an answer. However, he now set the Hitachi to the highest level, and pleasure came barreling toward me like a freight train. All vibration stopped just before I got off, leaving me in a fit of rage. My eyes popped open angrily, my breath strangling me. “What the fuck do you want?”

  He leaned in and a hum of pleasure left his chest. However, his mouth was now parked against my ear, heating that up, too. “Everything.” The gravel in his voice rubbed my clit as if he were against it. The words didn’t register at first, but the door softly latching behind him spoke volumes. My love wasn’t enough…or my words. He wanted it all…

  It could’ve been hours…it felt like days. I lay on that bed, my legs spread open, my body bare, my orgasm peaking before going away time and time again without release. I didn’t know what was worse: the loneliness, the fear, or the relentlessly painful ache between my legs. At first, it was the ache, definitely the ache…the deep throb when it was at the peak, and then the lingering tingles when it stopped. Those lingering tingles turned into harsh frustration after the fifth time, and by the tenth, a raging fury spread through me that only deepened with each passing cycle. Once I realized Stefan had no intentions of coming after me anytime soon, the loneliness took hold of my emotions. Sadness. Despair. Complete and utter isolation. Before I knew it, my mind had been transported back to the last time I’d found myself in forced seclusion. And that’s when the fear came, consuming me until I was left nothing more than a sobbing, shaking mess.

  The door opened calmly, yet what I felt inside was anything but. The man walking toward me wasn’t Stefan, at least that’s what my mind told me—it was Scarface. He woke from the dead and came after me. I looked at him and blinked—Stefan—blinked again—Scarface, with a bullet hole in his head and revenge on his face.

  I screamed. I thrashed about. I fought against my restraints.

  And then a harsh hand grabbed my face, pinching in my cheeks until they were caught between my back teeth. “Open your eyes, Jordana. Look at me!�
� Anger was not what I heard…no, it was pain, hurt, and rejection. That’s why I opened them.

  Stefan. Stefan was in front of me. Not Zeke. And his eyes were dark and hard as he took me in. His lips thinned in a straight line on his face. His nostrils flared with every hard breath he took.

  “You still don’t trust me,” was all he said. No, he growled the words, his hot breath searing my face as he panted an inch in front of me. It wasn’t anger I heard in his tone, but a deep hurt. A painful rejection.

  My head shook as much as it could around his hard grip.

  “If you trusted me, you wouldn’t be scared right now. I can see it in your eyes, Tesoro. I see the fear in them right now. I heard it in your screams when I walked back in. Your body is shaking with fright. The only reason you should be quaking beneath me is because of adrenaline and pleasure, not this. You don’t trust me.”

  “You left me alone,” I argued once he released my face.

  “Yes. Because I needed to take care of some business first…and I wanted to teach you a lesson. This can’t work if you don’t trust me.” He backed away, yet his face was still hard as stone. I couldn’t read what it meant. However, even though his jaw was set and clenched, his brow pinched together in the middle, his eyes said something else. Yes, they were dark, deep, and bored into mine, but they were also filled with unspoken apologies. This wasn’t what he’d expected, and he felt bad over my reaction.

  I hadn’t meant to freak out and overreact. I hated that I did. I would always be trapped by my fear of what the devil did to me if I didn’t do anything to change it. And I refused to let that monster control me.

  “I do trust you. I swear.”

  He pressed his arms into the mattress on both sides of my head, leaning into me. “Prove it.”

  I gasped, not understanding what he meant or what he planned to do. Stefan jumped from the bed, rooting around in his closet before coming back with a black, silk necktie. I stared at him until he had it tied perfectly in place over my eyes, blocking out all light. Without my sight or the ability to move, I was left with nothing but my hearing and the sensation of touch.