Negotiation: A Mafia Romance

by Kiera Silver

  Rather than continue to comment on his family dynamic, an area that shouldn’t concern her at all, and one about which she was entitled no opinion, she sipped her champagne again and let her gaze wander around the events hall, which had been set up lavishly for the evening with crystal chandeliers, the best champagne, tables laden with an exotic assortment of finger foods, and an area for dancing.

  When he suggested it, she acquiesced to a trip to the buffet tables, and then they chose seats away from the dancing. She was surprised when he began to feed her, his manner light and flirtatious. She couldn’t help responding in kind, and soon her panties were damp, and her need for him was overwhelming. It was decadent, but if he wanted to fuck her right there, she probably would have let him.

  Fortunately, he appeared to have better control than she did, or was at least better at faking it, because after eating, he held out a hand and invited her to dance.

  They spent the next hour snuggled up together, dancing to all the songs that played. Even during the fast ones, they could barely tear themselves away from each other. She couldn’t believe how entranced she was with this side of him, the seductive and tender lover. She’d seen that more than once, but never in this kind of setting, and never when her body had to maintain a slow simmer, because release was impractical at the moment.

  Eventually, they drifted from the dance floor, and she tried not to be jealous when a woman a few years older than him put her hand on his arm and drew him away, discussing one of her charitable endeavors in New Guinea. It sounded like foundation business, and she had no knowledge of that, so she reached for her third champagne of the evening as a tray floated by and tried to tuck herself out of the way.

  “If you were with me, I wouldn’t leave you alone even for a moment.”

  She turned and regarded the roughhewn, dark-haired man who had spoken to her with a hint of incredulousness, though she struggled to maintain a polite façade. “It’s very flattering and forward of you to say, sir.”

  “Yes, but it’s the truth. A woman like you should be kept close at hand. If Moretti isn’t careful, he won’t know what he’s lost until it’s already gone.”

  She grimaced at him, not liking his overly familiar manner. Seconds later, she let out a gasp of outrage when he took her wrist in his hand in a forceful grip, pulling her toward the dance floor. “Excuse me, but I’m finished dancing now.”

  “Nonsense. You can’t let Dante monopolize you for the whole evening. It wouldn’t be fair to the rest of us poor suckers waiting for a chance to dance with such a beautiful woman.” He snatched her champagne glass from her other hand and set it on a tray as they passed a waiter, before grabbing that hand in his as well.

  By that point, he had her at the dance floor. She had two options. She could make a scene and wrench herself away, perhaps even shouting for help if warranted, or she could tolerate one dance with this man, who seemed to be completely lacking in manners, and then make her way back to Dante. Considering the elegant surroundings, and the amount of money flowing through the room, hopefully all toward the Moretti Foundation, she gritted her teeth and relaxed slightly, though she didn’t allow him to put an indecent amount of space between them.

  Each time he took a step toward her, she took a step back, glaring up at him. Through a forced smile, she said, “Please maintain your distance, sir. I’m certain Dante wouldn’t like you trying to hold me so closely.”

  He flashed her an easy grin, one that looked completely unconcerned. “Oddly enough, I couldn’t give a fuck about what Moretti prefers. I simply wanted to get a look at you.”

  She frowned at him. “What? Why?”

  He shrugged. “Why not? You’re beautiful, vivacious woman, and it’s clear that you’re something special to Dante Moretti.”

  Her heart rate increased at the words, but she forced herself not to overreact with giddy excitement at his words. “Whatever your reasons, Mr.…” She trailed off, but he made no move to inform her of his name. She let out a heavy sigh. “Whatever. You’re being disrespectful to me and to Dante with your wandering hands.”

  To emphasize the point, she grabbed hold of the hand that was slowly inching toward her buttock, digging her nails forcefully into the back of his hand. His eyes widened in reaction, but he showed no other signs of pain.

  At least his hand stopped venturing farther south, and a moment later, she sagged with relief when Dante’s hand settled on her shoulders, pulling her away from her dance partner. “May I cut in,” he said, not bothering to make it a question as he pulled her away from the strange man, spinning her around the floor for a couple of cursory steps before grasping her hand and dragging her quickly enough off the dance floor that she had to almost run to keep up with him.

  “Dante, slow down,” she hissed when she started to trip on the too-high heels.

  He grunted and slowed down marginally, but that was the only concession to her words as he led her out of the main room and down the hallway. She could hear the bustling activity from the kitchen a few yards away, and she grunted with surprise when he opened a door to shove her inside, following immediately behind her.

  She shivered when she heard the lock click a second before the light turned on, allowing her to identify the space as storage. Commercial-sized cans lined the shelves, and another wall was devoted to cleaning products, with the third and fourth walls offering a shelf with stacks of utilitarian clothing, along with a large laundry bin. All crammed together, it left very little space for them.

  She started to turn around, and then grunted when Dante pushed her deeper into the room, sending her colliding with the laundry bin. It was scratchy canvas, soft enough to absorb the impact, with a metal frame that was sturdy enough to keep her from falling. “What are you—”

  “I was gone for ten minutes, and you let some creep put his hands all over you?”

  She scowled. “It wasn’t like that—”

  The ominous sound of his belt sliding through the loops of his dress pants made her shiver, and a second later, the leather slapped across her buttocks. She let out a sharp gasp of surprise, and then a muffled protest when his hand slammed over her mouth to keep her quiet as he bent her backward, forcing her back to bow and making her butt angle into the air. He slapped her again with the belt, and she tried to glare up at him from the side, but he was pointedly not looking down at her. Instead, his gaze was centered over her shoulder, likely where his belt was meeting her ass for the third time with barely restrained force that made her legs tremble, her skin burn, and most humiliatingly of all, her panties wet.

  “I didn’t bring you out to be someone else’s whore. You belong to me, Lily.” He punctuated his words with three more strikes across her ass.

  Tears were wetting her eyes now as the pain in her backside increased. It hurt, but it didn’t diminish the level of her arousal, or the slick heat pooling between her thighs. She glared harder at him as she tried to maneuver her mouth so she could bite his fingers and force him to free her. Unfortunately, he maintained a good, tight seal around the lower portion of her face, indicating he had some practice with the maneuver.

  “Next time I take you out, you stay right beside me.” After two more strikes, he finally put the belt down on the shelf holding the uniforms, but he clearly wasn’t done with her. Dante slid up her dress, and his fingers hesitated over her mouth, where he squeezed lightly. “Not a word.”

  When he moved his hand, she licked her lips and wanted to give in to the fierce urge to scream at him, and to demand an apology for his rough treatment, while also commanding him to fuck her hard and fast. She wanted to slap him as much as she wanted to screw him.

  He moved around behind her, bunching her dress at her waist before tearing the gossamer black panties from her body forcefully enough to make the elastic dig into her hips. She winced, but then sighed when his fingers rubbed the spots where the elastic had dug in, soothing the slight sting. It was the gentleness interspersed with the harshness that kep
t her coming back for more and was quickly making Dante her addiction.

  “This is my pussy.” He reminded her of that fact by shoving two fingers deep inside her, finding no resistance in the slick fold. Dante fingered her with one hand as he bunched her hair and brushed it off her shoulder with the other. His lips found the bend of her neck, and he sucked and nibbled there gently while he roughly plunged his fingers in and out of her with a wet sound. “All mine. Have you forgotten?”

  She shook her head, no longer certain if she was forbidden from speaking, but unable to do so as his fingers probed deeply inside her while his mouth teased her neck. She angled her hips backward, thrusting harder against him in her search for relief.

  “You’re so wet. I think it’s obvious you know who owns your pussy, but what about your ass?”

  She whimpered her protest when he withdrew his fingers, and then her eyes widened when his fingers went further upward, probing the rosette nestled between her buttocks.

  “Your ass is still tight, but those plugs have really made a difference. I think it’s time to show you who owns this part of you too, Lily.”

  She shivered, a mix of excitement and apprehension. He’d spent the last two weeks working her toward this point, first with his fingers, and then with a series of butt plugs that had gotten larger, and though she thought she was probably physically ready to take his large cock, she was still nervous about the idea—especially in such a public place, and with no lube. “Dante, I don’t think—”

  “Don’t.” His movements were almost rough when he shoved her own panties in her mouth. “Don’t talk and don’t think. Just feel. Remember who owns this hot little body until I say otherwise.”

  She could have ripped the fabric from her mouth and defended her actions, or refused to cooperate, but somehow, she felt her fingers digging into the bin of the laundry cart instead to steady herself. As Dante reached over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of a large bottle that he pulled back toward himself. Her eyes widened in the struggle to read the label, but only she made out an “I” and an “L.”

  Before she had a chance to fully work out what that could be, she felt something slippery running down the crack of her buttocks a moment later, and she jumped as the liquid was poured over her. Then Dante’s fingers were working it deep inside her, three of them moving in concert to get her slick and ready for possession. It seemed obvious he was using a variety of cooking oil, and she wasn’t entirely certain about the hygienic standard of such a lubricant used in that fashion, but she couldn’t deny it was pleasurable as his fingers glided into her tight back passage.

  “Do you feel yourself gripping around my fingers, Lily? Your ass is practically begging for my cock. Are you ready for it, honey?”

  She moaned and nodded her head frantically, pushing her buttocks back against him to display her eagerness. She no longer cared what had brought them to this point, or about his macho display of ownership. All she wanted was for him to fulfill the dark promise he had made weeks ago, that he would be claiming her ass along with every other inch of her. She was far more eager than nervous at this point.

  “I’ll have to remember olive oil is so thick and smooth,” he said with a chuckle before moving completely behind her. The rasp of his zipper came a moment later, and then it seemed like not even a second passed before the head of his cock nudged her backside, pressing against the puckered hole only his fingers and plugs had breached before. He let out a harsh groan. “You’re tighter than I expected, Lily. If I die from pleasure, I blame you.”

  She lifted a hand to pull out the panties. “This is all your fault. If only you’d given me a chance to explain…” She stopped speaking as his thick head breached the sphincter that resisted his entry. Once he was past that stubborn ring of muscle, he was able to slowly glide inside her.

  It was slightly painful, but mostly it just felt really good. She whimpered and pushed back against him, deciding she could enlighten him about the dance that had made him angry later. Right now, she wanted to focus on this moment, to ensure it remained pleasurable only, and didn’t turn to some twisted form of punishment.

  Slowly, he withdrew from her, giving up territory he had previously conquered, save for his cockhead, which remained lodged inside her. The ridge of his cock rubbed against her insides as he withdrew and thrust back in again, generating more liquid heat between her legs.

  “Rub your clit, Lily. I can’t reach it, and I want to make sure you get off. I know I’m going to, and it probably won’t be long with the way your tight little ass is squeezing me. So rub your pussy. Rub it hard and fast, and come all over both of us.”

  She moaned her delight at his dirty talk, which was shocking and should have been off-putting, but was all the more exciting because it was so illicit, and almost taboo, especially when combined with the fact that he was currently anally fucking her while she masturbated in an attempt to get off with him at the same time. In light of those facts, that his dirty talk turned her on seemed almost prudish.

  As he began to move faster, his balls slapping against her ass, he cupped her breasts through the dress and tugged forcefully on her nipples. His mouth was buried in the side of her throat, and she was certain she would have a hickey within minutes under the forceful onslaught of his mouth. At that moment, she couldn’t care less as she surrendered to the sensations coursing through her.

  Everywhere felt good, and it was truly a full-body orgasm when she started to come, her clit pulsing against her fingers as her empty pussy clenched around nothing, and her back passage tightened around his large cock.

  With a groan of surrender, Dante let loose inside her a moment later, filling her back passage with his cum. It was the first time he’d been bare in her, since they had always used a condom before, and the sensation of him coming inside her, even deep in her backside, prolonged her release and sent another wave of pleasure spasming through her pussy.

  He leaned against her for a moment after they had both come, his breathing harsh in the small space. Hers was coming out just as rough, and she was leaning heavily on the laundry cart, thankful it was wedged between the shelf and the corner of the wall, or surely it would have tipped under the workout it had received during their encounter.

  “Don’t forget who you belong to anymore, Lily.”

  She sighed, annoyed that he had ruined the moment. Rolling her eyes, she looked over her shoulder at him. “I don’t know who that was, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He basically hustled me onto the dance floor, and I could either dance with him to avoid a scene, or I could shout the house down and risk all the donations that people are no doubt making at this very moment—even though their host has sneaked away to fuck his mistress in the supply closet.”

  He let out a small laugh before leaning forward to kiss her cheek. “If you’re ever in that situation again, shout for all you’re worth. I don’t care if it’s embarrassing or causes a scene. No one gets to manhandle you or do anything you don’t want them to do.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to enter the fit the fateful words, except you, but she bit back the impulse. Dante could be demanding and dominating, but he hadn’t actually forced her to do anything she didn’t want to. He’d exposed her to some experiences she’d been certain she wouldn’t enjoy, but thus far, he had proved her wrong every time.

  Instead of saying something that would cause discord between them, she turned slightly, angling awkwardly so she could press her lips to his in a light kiss. When he would have deepened it, she broke away. “You should get back to your party, and I need to clean up and attempt to look like I wasn’t just ass-fucked in the supply closet.”

  He grunted before pulling back. “If you insist on doing the right thing, Lily.”

  She wasn’t completely joking when she shooed him toward the door with a motion of her hand, adding, “I don’t think I’ve done the right thing since I met you, Dante Moretti.” He disappeared through the door a moment later, and she got a
handful of paper towels over the sink to set about righting her appearance.

  She could only imagine how shocked and appalled the wealthy crowd mingling in the main hall would be if they realized what she and Dante had been doing for the last ten minutes in the supply closet. For some reason, the thought of their stunned and dismayed expressions of horror sent her a thrill through her, and she chuckled as she did her best to restore her appearance before slipping from the supply closet and rejoining Dante a few moments later. She was positive only she—and maybe he—noticed the slightly ginger way she walked, thanks to a mild ache in her butt.

  His anomalous behavior continued after the party, when he directed the driver to take them back to his place. The sex was almost vanilla compared to the earlier dose of kinky, but it was still amazing and satisfying. Afterward, she lay beside him for a few moments, waiting for him to get out of bed or give another obvious sign that it was time for her to leave.

  Instead, he started snoring a few minutes later. She waited another moment before starting to slide from the bed. Lily barely made it an inch before his arms tightened around her, and he clamped her against his sleeping form. He mumbled something into her hair. She couldn’t really make out what he said, but it sounded like, “Stay.” Since she wanted to, she allowed herself to accept that translation of his sleep-garbled word and curled against him. She soon followed him into a deep sleep, her body wrapped around his in the dark. It was easier to be vulnerable with him then, and perhaps he felt the same way.

  Chapter Six

  She woke alone the next morning. A glance at the clock revealed it was still early, and she slid out of bed and looked around for something to wear. Someone, presumably Dante, had hung the red dress on a hook near the bathroom door, but the idea of climbing into the formal gown again this early was unappealing. Since it was a weekend, and she thought she remembered Dante saying once in passing that he gave his staff weekends off, she padded to his closet and chose a white button-down shirt.