Trapped: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Anna Ray

  Do I notice a hint of a blush in Massimo’s olive skin? No, it can’t be. I’m just imagining things.

  “You really do think highly of yourself, don’t you? Well, I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re nothing but a spoiled princess. Girls like you are a dime a dozen in this city.”

  Tears burn in my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. “That’s rich, coming from a heartless bastard like yourself. Have you always been like this? Or did your heart turn hard and black when my father murdered your family?”

  The anger that burns in Massimo’s eyes tells me I’ve gone too far, and I flinch out of the way of his oncoming strike. But the hit never comes. Massimo stands above me, his hands balled into fists at his side, panting.

  He looks down at me like he’s torn, and before I can process what’s happening, he’s grabbing my hands and pulling me to my feet. Massimo and I stand just inches apart, our chests heaving, and he crushes his lips against mine.

  For a moment, I’m stunned. But then I melt into the kiss and part my lips to allow Massimo’s tongue entrance. He kisses me desperately, like his life depends on it, and I feel myself swooning in his arms.

  I’m just getting into the kiss when Massimo abruptly stops. He pulls away, and I stare up into his eyes to see a horrified expression on his face.

  Cautiously, I reach out for him, but he moves away from me. He storms out of the room and out of the house. I’m left alone and more confused than ever.

  What the hell just happened?

  The air around me feels charged with electricity, and my body thrums with pent-up energy. I know part of it is the adrenaline rush from stealing a knife from the kitchen and trying to cut through the security fence. When those armed men showed up out of nowhere and started shooting, it did nothing to calm my racing heart. Who the hell were they?

  But that’s not the only reason my body feels like it’s on fire.

  It’s him — Massimo.

  Am I insane for wanting him and thinking he might want me, too? God, I must be, but I’m sure I haven’t imagined the way he looks at me sometimes when he thinks I’m not paying attention. It’s hungry and predatory and makes me feel things in my core I’ve never felt before.

  I shake the thoughts from my head and go upstairs to take a cold shower. I try to tell myself I’m being ridiculous, that it’s all just part of Massimo’s revenge plan against my father. But if that’s the case, why does he insist on keeping me here in such good conditions? Surely if he wanted to provoke my father into action, he’d have me chained in some dark basement. Maybe he’d even have tortured me already and filmed it to send to my father.

  But aside from the occasional outburst, he’s actually… nice? I can’t believe I enjoy spending time with him and wonder if it would be the same if we met in different circumstances.

  You want him, a voice in the back of my mind says, and I allow myself to admit the truth. I do want him. It’s purely physical, of course, and probably due to his rippling muscles and piercing eyes.

  He’d never look twice at someone like you, another voice taunts, but that voice does nothing to convince me of the truth. I felt the truth in the way Massimo kissed me hungrily, like he wanted to devour me.

  A ripple of desire tingles down my spine and I shiver.

  I hope he comes home soon.

  15

  Massimo

  A million thoughts swirl around in my brain as I try to work out what Giuliani is up to. Were the gunmen a distraction? Or was he trying to make me believe they weren’t sent by him? After all, the bullet only grazed Alessandra. But to what end? It’s like Giuliani is playing cat and mouse with me. Does he plan to outplay me somehow and finish the job he started ten years ago when he killed my family?

  I slam my fist into the steering wheel. Goddamn it! What is he planning? Why can’t he just call me and agree to my demands?

  Then what? A voice in the back of my head asks. You’re really going to kill Alessandra?

  The plan has always been to lure Giuliani to an undisclosed location under the pretense of exchanging his daughter for fifty-million dollars. Only, at the last moment, I had intended to shoot Alessandra before killing Giuliani. I wanted to make him suffer by forcing him to witness me murdering his daughter. Now I wonder if he even cares?

  That’s not the only reason you don’t want to kill her...

  Giuliani will die — there’s no question about it. He will pay for what he did to my family, but as Alessandra keeps insisting, she’s innocent. She was probably only nine when her father killed my family; she had no involvement in his plans.

  She’s just a woman. Why do you care so much? I ask myself.

  The answer is clear as I taste Alessandra on my lips. I picture her lean, shapely legs — her petite, but curvaceous figure, her lustrous, curly brown hair, and those enchanting, amber eyes. I want her. She was right about that, too.

  And wouldn’t that be the perfect revenge? I can still kill Giuliani, but before I do, I can tell him about how I’ve turned his daughter against him and claimed her as my lover.

  But how can I have her and kill her father? Won’t she hate me for it?

  Not if I show her he is the monster, not me.

  She already thinks he doesn’t care about her; it won’t be hard for me to convince her he doesn’t love her, but maybe I do. And the easiest way to do that? By making her feel like the goddess she is, by ravaging her body and giving her pleasure like she’s never experienced before.

  The thought of having Alessandra laid before me, at my mercy, makes my heart pound and my dick hard, and the path before me becomes clear.

  I drive through the city and to the closest mall and seek out a lingerie store. There, I tell the sales assistant I’m looking for something special for my girlfriend and give her Alessandra’s measurements. She shows me a variety of choices: bra and panty sets, lacy negligees, corsets, bralettes... the list is endless. I decide on a black lacy baby doll that unties at the front and matching panties, which I think will look breathtaking on Alessandra.

  With the purchase made, I drive back to the house. All is calm and quiet, and the smell of garlic, onion, and herbs in the kitchen tells me she had the cook make dinner. I peer into the fridge and see leftover chicken cacciatore and cannolis. My stomach growls with hunger — I haven’t eaten all day. But first, I have a much more urgent desire to sate.

  Taking the black bag from the lingerie store, I make my way upstairs and stand outside Alessandra's room.

  My heart pounds. Am I really about to do this?

  Yes! My heart and mind scream, and I knock on her door.

  “Come in,” Alessandra says, and I push open the door to find her lying in bed in cozy pajamas.

  “I bought you a gift,” I say simply, holding up the bag from the lingerie store.

  Alessandra’s eyes widen as she takes it from me and unwraps the baby doll from the tissue paper.

  “What’s this?” she asks, her eyes smoldering.

  “A peace offering and a proposal,” I say, heat blazing through my body. “I want you Alessandra; I can’t get you out of my head.”

  I gaze at her intently and see her blush at my confession.

  “And I want your time here to be more pleasurable. If you accept my gift, I can make you feel things no man ever has. In the bedroom, I’ll be your master, and you will do exactly as I say.”

  Her eyes widen and she asks, “What does that mean?”

  “It means, if I tell you to bend over and let me fuck you from behind, you’ll do it. If I spank your ass until it’s red and sore, you’ll allow it. I can bring you to the heights of pleasure and pain. The only way I will stop is if you expressly tell me you want out of our agreement. If you do that, I vow to stop instantly. Do you agree?”

  16

  Alessandra

  I take the black negligee Massimo offers. “I need some time to consider,” I say before closing the bedroom door. I take it as a good sign that he doesn’t start ham
mering on the door, demanding I speak to him.

  Instead, he calls out, “I’ll be in my room when you’re ready.”

  Once I hear him walk away, I take the negligee over to the bed, sit down, and study it. The lacework is intricate, and the item seems well-made. This isn’t some cheap crap he bought at Walmart. He went to a specialist's shop for this. That thought alone is flattering, but I need to process what his “proposal” really means before I accept. I want him, badly, there’s no denying that, and the thought of surrendering to him completely in the bedroom turns me on more than I thought it would.

  But after we have sex? Then what?

  If I accept, will he stop with the moodiness and brooding? That would be a welcome change; when Massimo isn’t stewing over why my father hasn’t answered his demands yet, we actually have fun together. If it could be like that all the time…

  You’re still his prisoner, my mind screams. I understand he wants revenge against my father. But that doesn’t change the fact he’s holding me here, against my will. No fancy negligee or promise of peace changes that fact, no matter how much the idea that he bought this sexy outfit for me with the intention of making our relationship physical turns me on. The thought of wearing the lingerie for Massimo and what that could lead to fills my body with fire…

  Yes, I want him, but do I want him enough to hand over my freedom?

  It’s not like he’s keeping you chained in the basement, another voice in my mind argues. This is the voice that hungers for Massimo’s touch, to feel his naked skin against mine, to explore what could happen between us if I just allow it.

  If I just allow it. This is the choice Massimo is giving me. Accept the negligee and his “proposal,” and the dynamics of our relationship change forever. Or reject his offer and I remain nothing more than his prisoner until my father makes his move.

  Knowing the choice is mine fills my body with a fire I can no longer deny, and I pick the lingerie up off the bed and carry it through to the bathroom.

  I quickly shower, making sure I’m neatly groomed, and apply some moisturizer and slip into the negligee. I glance in the full-length mirror, pleased with my appearance, appreciating how the material hugs my curves. I dry my hair so it hangs in a cascade of curls down my back, and my bronzed skin shimmers in the overhead light. I feel like a goddess. Is this how Massimo sees me? Is this why he bought the negligee? The idea causes my heart to pound, giving me the final burst of courage I need to leave my room and walk down the hallway to his.

  I take a deep breath and knock on the door.

  “Come in,” Massimo calls, an unusual huskiness to his voice.

  I push open the door to find a room slightly larger than my own but with a similar layout, including an ensuite bathroom. The room is dominated by a king-size bed covered in black satin sheets.

  He is freshly showered and wearing nothing but silk sleep pants, his muscular chest bared for me. The room smells faintly of masculine products, and the aroma of musk, sandalwood, and pine needles is intoxicating.

  I glance at Massimo, whose eyes are feasting hungrily on my lace-clad body.

  “You look amazing,” he tells me, and heat blazes through my body.

  Blushing, I say, “Thank you. You got my size perfectly.”

  “I’ve spent a long time studying you, Alessandra,” he says, standing from the bed and crossing the room to stand before me. “So, you’re accepting my proposal?”

  “I am,” I say confidently. We both want this. What’s left to hold us back?

  “I need you to be a hundred percent certain. If you have any doubts, tell me now.”

  He studies my face as though searching for any hints of deception, and finding none, a wolfish smile covers his lips. My body buzzes as I imagine relinquishing complete control to him, and I feel moisture pool between my legs.

  “I have no doubts,” I say honestly.

  His wolfish grin transforms into a full-on smile. “Good girl,” he says, gripping my waist and pulling me flush against his body. “If you do exactly as I say, you’ll be rewarded.”

  I’m about to ask what it is he wants, but he silences the question when he crushes his lips against mine, and the simple contact makes me see fireworks behind my eyelids. If I’m feeling this from just one kiss, I can’t wait to see what’s coming.

  His fingertips graze my waist as he grips me tighter and plunges his tongue inside my mouth. My heart hammers, and I return the kiss with equal fervor, lifting my leg and hooking it over his hip as I grind against him. I feel him harden and know he wants this as much as I do.

  He pulls away from the kiss, his hands trailing up from my waist to grip my shoulders, and he gently pushes me down onto my knees in front of him so I’m at eye level with his obvious erection. His demands are clear.

  After making sure I’m in a comfortable position, I carefully peel down Massimo’s pants and reveal his muscular, toned legs. His cock is still concealed in his tight, black boxer shorts, but I can already tell it’s a good size. But before I get to that, I take my time to run my fingertips up and down his thighs, enjoying the feel of his skin against mine.

  But taking our time obviously isn’t on Massimo’s agenda, and he grabs a fistful of my hair, tilting my head up so my gaze meets his.

  “I want to fuck your mouth,” he demands, and the request sends a spark through me that makes my inner muscles tense with anticipation.

  With Massimo still gripping my hair, I pull down his boxers, and his cock springs free, long and thick. I open my mouth and happily accept it, swinging my tongue around the tip. With a jerk of his hips, he forces himself deeper into my throat, and I gag for only a moment before deep throating him.

  My fingers claw at his upper thigh and ass as he plunges his cock in and out of my mouth. Even though he’s controlling the pace, I control what I do with my mouth and aim to surprise him by changing up my technique. One moment, I’m sucking hard, the next, I’m swirling my tongue against his tip, the next, I’m gently grazing the shaft with my teeth. I suppress a smirk when he groans, and I feel his thigh muscles tense, pleased to know I’m having the desired effect.

  He grips my hair tighter, forcing his cock deeper down my throat, his cum shooting out, warm and salty. I dig my nails into his ass cheeks as I swallow down his cum, and his grip on me goes limp.

  With a smile, I lean back and wipe my lips on the back of my hand.

  “Good girl,” Massimo says with half-closed eyes. “Now, it’s time for your reward.”

  After giving himself a few more moments to recover, he pulls up his boxers and pants and extends his hands to me. I take them, and he helps me to my feet.

  “Lie on the bed,” he demands, and I do as instructed.

  He climbs onto the bed with me and grabs my knees to part my legs. He nestles himself between them and says, “Don’t close your eyes.”

  I do as he says, our gazes locked with each other as he presses his index finger to my clit. Even through the lace of the negligee, I can feel the pressure of his finger, and his touch makes me squirm with need. For a moment, Massimo does nothing more, and I squirm beneath him, desperate for more, but being deliciously denied it.

  When I let out a heaving breath, he smirks and swipes his finger down to circle my opening through the lace of the lingerie.

  “You’re so wet,” he whispers huskily.

  “That’s because I want you so much,” I reply and am disappointed when he pulls his hand away.

  “Naughty girl. No speaking,” he taunts, and I know if I want him to continue caressing my pussy, I need to keep my mouth shut.

  After a beat of silence, he slides his fingers inside my panties and once again presses against my clit. I suck in a breath, afraid if I let it out, he might stop again. When I squirm beneath his touch again, he swipes his finger down and plunges it into my opening. He pumps his finger inside me for just a moment before trailing it back up to press against my clit.

  He continues this pattern of pressing aga
inst my clit and then pumping his finger inside me until I think I’m going to go insane. It’s just enough to keep me on the edge, but never enough to push me over.

  I want to beg for more, but dare not speak, afraid doing so will cause him to stop just when I don’t want him to.

  With me at his mercy, he watches me intently as he drives me wild, his unoccupied hand snaking up my body to pull the negligee aside so my left breast tumbles free. He kneads it with just enough force to hurt — but not painfully so, making sure to pinch and tweak my nipple.

  As my hips rock, hoping for a change in pressure or pace, he swirls his finger around my clit. The sudden difference makes me let out a breathy sigh that has him smirking. Then his finger once again dips inside me, and he curls it around so I feel a delicious pressure against my inner walls.

  When his fingertip returns to my clit, his pace is faster, and soon, my hips are bucking to meet his touch. My breath comes out in frantic gasps, and I can feel the climax building. I think I’m about to cum when he pulls away.

  Part of me wants to scream, “What the fuck?” at him, but the devilish grin on his face tells me this is all part of his game, and a moment later, he plunges two fingers inside me, curling them around to press against my g-spot. I’m almost on the brink of climax again when Massimo pulls away.

  This time, he says, “You only get to cum when I want you to.”

  The agonizing mix of pleasure and torture has my whole body shaking as he rapidly rubs his finger over my clit bringing me closer and closer and closer... only for him to stop. After a moment's pause, he moves to my opening, and again, brings me right to the edge, then stops.

  I lose all sense of time, space, and awareness. The only thing I know is the building pleasure and how desperate I am for release. I need it now. I’ll do anything.

  “Please, Massimo. Make me cum,” I beg, and I’m relieved when, rather than stopping as I feared he might, he keeps going. His finger positively vibrates on my clit as he brings me to climax. He plunges it inside me as my inner walls clench, and he presses on my g-spot. And he doesn’t stop … he keeps going, even as the waves of orgasm crest, pushing past the limit any guy has gone before, past my limit. My legs are quivering, my chest is heaving, and I’m going to explode.