Bad Boy: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance)

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Bad Boy: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) Page 3

by Willow Winters


  He cocks a brow and his voice softens as he says, “You haven’t heard my terms. How sure are you that you don’t want to be my pet?”

  Terms?

  Again the offer makes my pussy clench and my cheeks redden with a violent blush. “No,” I blurt out without thinking.

  His chest rumbles with a deep chuckle. “Some part of you wants me. There’s hope for us after all.” He smiles down at me and turns to walk away. My limbs refuse to move and attack him. Instead I stay frozen on the ground. I watch his corded muscles ripple as he walks to the door and enters in a code.

  “Where are you going?” I ask before thinking. Apparently the fear of being left alone in this room to rot is greater than my fear of him. I don’t want to die here, left to starve because he changed his mind. I may have said no, but I sure as fuck don’t want to die here.

  He turns and gives me the same sexy smirk. “My kitten needs to eat.”

  Tension coils in my body. I can’t let him leave. I need to get more information. I don’t like not knowing anything about this situation and not having any other options.

  “Wait. What--” I swallow thickly before continuing. “What are your terms?”

  He smirks at me as he opens the door and says, “The first is that you’ll listen to me. I’ll be back soon.”

  My chest rises and falls with anxiety and fear as I stare back at him in silence. I pull the throw tighter around my shoulders and watch as he walks through the door and leaves me in the dark room. I'm all alone and barely able to breathe. After a short moment, lights in the ceiling slowly come to life, illuminating the room dimly and gradually getting brighter. I look around my surroundings and see a small toilet in the corner and the metal chair my captor was sitting in, but nothing else. Tears prick my eyes and my blood runs cold. I can’t stay here like a prisoner.

  I stare at the door waiting for him to come back, letting everything sink in.

  I’ve been taken.

  And he wants to keep me.

  The only thing I’m certain of is that I need to find a way out of here. Run as fast as I can, and never look back. But I’ll have to rely on him to get out of this fucking cell first.

  Anthony

  I’ve never done anything that’s felt this wrong before. Nothing's ever come close to giving me this thrill that’s surging in my blood. Her reaction was perfect. I knew she’d deny me, but the fight in her is something I didn’t expect. I fucking love it.

  I had to be in there when she woke up. I didn’t want her freaking out, thinking she was going to die. Instead she can be absorbed with thoughts of me and being mine. My dick is fucking leaking in my jeans. I can’t help that I want this. I want her. And now I have her. But not her submission though. That much is obvious and expected.

  I feel like I’m on the highest high I’ve ever had in my life. I should feel conflicted. I should have second thoughts about this, or feel remorse. But I don’t. She’s mine.

  I pace back and forth in the kitchen as I think about what I’d like to feed her. I’m not sure what to offer her first. I need to make it tempting for her to obey me, but this isn’t a reward. I have to stay vigilant. I want to shower her with everything she’d ever want to convince her she’d enjoy being my pet. But that would defeat the entire purpose of all this, and she needs to know what her position is. She needs to earn her rewards just as much as I need to earn her submission.

  There are simple truths to this relationship.

  I will always give her shelter and food, no matter how disobedient she is. Even if she refuses every order, which I imagine will happen at some point. Hell, I fully expect her to try to kill me at some point, too. Even the best submissives refuse their positions at times. And she’s being forced into this, so I wouldn’t blame her if she did. There’s no reason for me to deliver physical punishment unless I’d like to prep her for pleasure. Which I can’t fucking wait to do.

  I imagine it’ll be her mouth that makes me blister her ass red. My dick jumps in my pants at the thought of watching her ass turn a beautiful shade as my palm smacks against her pale skin.

  Equally as important as punishment is reward.

  Although I’ll always feed her, some kinds of food are definitely a reward. This won’t be one of them. But it needs to be good. She didn’t eat dinner, so I know she must be hungry. It’s far past breakfast, so a light brunch it is.

  I looked up her credit card history and I know what she likes to eat. I’ve taken everything she does into consideration. I know everything about her. I’ve spent every day for nearly a month studying her habits and learning how best I can meet her needs and reward her. I also needed time to get the rooms together and decide on the best way to go about everything in between taking care of the other hits. I’ve fantasized about this day since I got the approval from the mob bosses. But I never imagined I’d get this fucking rush of adrenaline.

  One thing I hadn’t decided was what her first meal should be.

  Although she’s not too picky, I don’t want it to be mediocre. However, I can’t spoil her just yet, so I decide on fresh ahi tuna. It's something that will be simple to feed her. I smile as I realize I’m going to feed my kitten tuna. A rough chuckle rumbles through my chest. I’m sure she won’t find humor in that, but I sure as fuck do.

  I grab the tuna tartare from the fridge. It’s fresh. I bought it just for her since it’s one of her favorites. I’ll give it to her now even though it’s certainly on the reward side of food. She needs to know I’ll treat her well and give her what she likes so long as she obeys. She’ll probably throw it in my face or on the ground, but I’m prepared for that to happen. And then she’ll have to settle for something less appealing when I serve her dinner.

  If she’s a good girl, I’ll move her into her room. I don’t think she’ll react well to being kept and told to obey, but the thought makes my dick press even harder against my zipper. I’m dying for her to disobey me, but there’s a very real possibility that it’ll take a long time to convince her that she should listen to me. I can’t get carried away with my excitement. I have to be patient. I have to give her every reason I can to submit to me willingly.

  She will though. I’m certain of it. I know this turns her on as much as it does me. It’s what sealed her fate. We both have this fantasy, and I’d be a fucking idiot to let it pass us by. That’s why I watched her for so long. I needed to make sure this is really what I wanted. And it is. She's exactly who I want. Everything she does is perfect. She's a natural submissive.

  I pull back the plastic wrap holding the delicately pressed chunks together, and place the stack neatly in the center of a ceramic plate. It looks delicious. I grab the accompanying plastic container of sauce and put it on the dish. She’ll enjoy this...if she eats it. I thought about using a plastic plate, but I want the dish to be breakable. I want her to think about smashing it and using it against me. Fuck, in all honesty, I hope she tries. That way I can show her how useless her struggle would be. It feeds into my need to train her to be submissive to me. Maybe it’s wrong of me to tease her like that and to dare her to disobey me, but I don’t give a fuck.

  Right now I just need to get her to agree and follow a simple command. To eat.

  I have to adjust my erection at the thought of her parting those full lips and letting me slip chunks of tuna into her mouth. I’m so fucking hard for her. All I want to do is pin her down and sink deep into her hot cunt. I know she’s turned on by this. If nothing else she wants to fuck me. It’s a long way from her craving to be all mine, to wanting to submit to my every wish. But at least her desire is a start. A really good fucking start. I wasn’t anticipating that just yet.

  I thought she’d be crying by now. I imagined her screaming and begging to be set free. That's not what I want, but that would be a natural response. Maybe that’ll come later. I’m hopeful that it won’t though. She’s too smart for that shit. I think she’ll probably pretend to play along and wait for the perfect opportunity, just lik
e she did earlier. She'll go along with everything, waiting to see my hand and then calculate her next move.

  I’ll be ready though. I can’t wait till she lets her claws out and tries to fight me so I can show her just how easy it would be to take her.

  I shake my head, hating where my thoughts are going. I’m such a sick fuck. For as long as I can remember, I’ve had these dark desires. I want her to fight me, to run from me. I want to feel her body struggle against mine. But I want her to do all of that willingly. I want her eager for me to chase her and pin her down, forcing her legs open and fucking her until she’s limp and filled with my cum. I won’t give in to that temptation, not until she begs me. Not until I earn it.

  I can’t get carried away. I need her to want this just as much as I do.

  As I prepare to head back to her cell, my phone goes off in the dining room. From the sound I can tell it’s a text, and I know it’s from Vince. I put the plate on the counter and walk to the table to give him the news.

  Is the shipment taken care of? he asks in his text.

  Usually I’d reply with a simple yes, meaning that the unlucky bastard on my list is dead, but that’s not the case this time.

  It’s been delivered, I respond.

  You’ve kept the shipment?

  Yes. I’m quick to answer. My heart beats faster in my chest. He gave me permission, so now I'm keeping her. I don’t like that he's questioning me. Maybe he was wondering if I’d really go through with it. I watch my phone and see he’s writing a response. Then nothing. Then he starts typing again. I’m not sure if he doesn’t know what to say, or if he’s just trying to figure out how to word it.

  Will the order keep a shelf life? he asks, and I know what he’s really asking. Will she live? Am I going to kill her? Or possibly he thinks she’d rather die than be with me.

  I stare at my phone and look through the kitchen toward the back room where the door to the basement is. I’ve got all three of her rooms set up with locks on them. The cell, her suite, and her office. I didn’t do all this prep work and make sure she was the one for me only to have her taken away. Or worse, have her choose death. She may have said no to being mine out of a knee-jerk reaction at first, but she’s curious, and I know I can change her mind. She doesn’t mean it. Before I leave her cell tonight, I’m going to leave her wanting more. I want her to start fantasizing about being mine and what an opportunity this really is for her.

  I type in my answer and push send, leaving the phone on the table and walking quickly to get back to her.

  I’m keeping her.

  Catherine

  After a minute of watching the door, I slowly rise and take a look around the room. It’s small and a bit cold. The only escape is the door he went through. The one locked with a keypad.

  I can’t fucking stay here like a caged rat. My heart stills in my chest. That’s what I am to them. My eyes rise with defiance to the door. I did what I thought was right, and the only thing I could do to survive. They can all fuck off. I don’t deserve this shit. I’m not a mouse or a rat.

  I picture that sexy smirk and hear the man keeping me here call me kitten. It sends a shiver down my spine. I’m not his fucking kitten either. Even if I do think that pet name is sexy as hell, and it makes my pussy clench.

  I walk to the chair and imagine smashing it against his head when that fucker gets back in here. I don’t know the code to unlock the door though. I'd have to be on the other side of the room to get a good view of him punching in the keys. Even then, I doubt I’d be able to make them out; it’s too fucking dark. I need to get the fuck out of this room, and I don’t know how I’m going to be able to do that unless he physically lets me.

  I know pleading with him to let me go would be of no use, but maybe I can beg him to let me out of this room and into another. One without a fucking lock. I need to be smart about this. I grip the back of the chair wanting so desperately to just beat the shit out of him, but I can’t. First of all, I’m weak as shit. Second, no matter how much I don’t like it, I’m stuck here until he decides to let me out.

  My body tenses as the door opens. I watch as he walks into the room with a plate balanced in his hands. Anger heats my blood. This is a game to him. He thinks he can play with me. He stops as the door clicks shut behind him and he stares at me. I try to school my expression to neutral, so I don't reveal how I'm really feeling. But then I see his expression, and he looks pleased. He’s happy that I’m angry. I release my grip on the chair and take a step back before I give in to the urge to pick it up and throw it at him.

  “You look upset, kitten.”

  My nostrils flare. I decide to settle on the truth. “I am.” I keep my hands straight so I don’t ball them into fists. It won't do me any good to fight a man like him head on. I need to save my energy for when I'll have to fight him off, since I'm sure that's coming. I should also be adopting a more submissive tone considering I’ve come to terms with the fact that he’s the only way I can get out of here. But I’m holding on to my anger. It’s better than giving into the hopelessness of the situation.

  “With me?” He tsks and shakes his head as he takes slow and deliberate steps toward me. I take another step back as he sets the plate down on the chair. “Don’t be angry with me, kitten. I--”

  “Stop calling me that!” I scream at him, hating how he’s talking to me. Like he’s placating a disobedient child.

  His shoulders stiffen, and the soft angles of his face harden with anger. “Now now, you shouldn’t speak to me that way. You’re a smart girl, so you should know better.” His tone is soothing, like he's trying to appease me, but it's right on the edge of taunting me with condescension.

  “What do you want from me?” I ask with a choked voice. I want to get this part over with. That’s really what I need to find out. I want to know what I have to do to get the fuck out of this room.

  “I want you to submit to me,” he answers simply.

  “Fine.” I whisper the word. I need to play along in order to get the fuck out of here. I relax my shoulders, trying to channel a softer side of me.

  He tilts his head and echoes, “Fine?” A low chuckle rises in his chest, and I have to keep my eyes wide open and my lips slammed shut to avoid showing how much it turns me on. What the fuck is wrong with me? My breathing picks up and I take another step back, not trusting him or my reactions.

  “Alright, then...kitten.” He stares at me, waiting for a response to his pet name for me. I don’t give him one. Instead I hold my tongue and push down my pride. “Come over here and get down on your knees.”

  My heart sinks. I’m not doing that shit. He’s out of his fucking mind if he thinks I’m going to suck him off. As much as I want to obey him so I can get the fuck out of here, I’m not going to do that. I’m not a whore. I could bite his dick off though. I feel my eyebrows raise at the thought, and the tiny cellar fills with a deep, rough laugh from the man standing across from me.

  “You’re adorable, kitten. But that’s not going to happen. Not yet.” He shakes his head with a small smile on his face.

  “What’s not going to happen?” I play dumb, like I wasn’t that obvious just now.

  “You haven’t earned my touch yet, and you don’t need it right now.” He picks up the plate and moves the chair so it's facing me before sitting down. “Now come here and get on your knees so I can feed you.”

  I hesitate to move. I don’t believe him, not for one second. And kneeling before him would put me at an even greater physical disadvantage.

  “Come on, I know you’re hungry.” He sets the plate on his lap and motions with his fingers for me to come to him. “It’s almost eleven, and you didn’t eat last night. You must be starving.”

  My eyes narrow on him. I hate that he watched me last night. I knew it. I should have trusted my instincts. I knew someone was out there. “How long did you watch me?”

  “I've been watching you ever since I got the hit on you.” He’s quick with his response,
and it chills my blood.

  “Are you a member of the mafia?” I ask.

  He chuckles and says, “Which one?” The fact that he thinks this is funny really pisses me off.

  “Are you a Cassano?” I ask with force.

  “No. I’m not.”

  “So why are you going to kill me then?” My heart sinks. I don’t understand. How many fucking people did I piss off?

  “I’m not going to kill you,” he says with a hard voice. His blue eyes turn dark and I can feel the weight of the conviction in his voice. “It took a lot for me to be able to have you. But I bought you from the Cassanos, and now I’m keeping you.” I can’t help that my pussy twitches at his words.

  “Why?” my voice asks, without my conscious consent.

  He leans forward slightly. “I’ve asked you twice now to come and get down on your knees. You need to learn to listen.”

  My feet move of their own accord until I’m standing in front of him. My legs tremble as I slowly kneel before him. I swallow thickly. Finally, I sit on my heels and keep my eyes on the door behind him. I have to do what needs to be done. My heart sinks and I just want to cry.

  “Look at me, kitten,” his deep voice commands me, and I look up at him reluctantly. I feel weak, and I hate it. Everyone assumes I’m weak. Now that I’m on my knees without a fight, it’s hard for me to disagree. I look at his gorgeous face with nothing but sadness on mine.

  “Don’t be sad. You’ll enjoy this.” He leans forward and places a large hand on my shoulder. I fucking lean into his touch and close my eyes before I can stop myself. “Trust me.”

  My eyes harden at his words, but before I can spit back that I don’t even know him, let alone trust him, he takes his hand away and says, “You’ll learn to trust me.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek and wait for his next move. My eyes are drawn to his fingers as he reaches for a chunk of what I think is tuna. My mouth waters as he dips it into some sort of sauce and brushes it along the side of the cup until none of the sauce is dripping from the chunk of fish. He brings it to my lips and I instinctively lean back and move my hands up in front of my face.

 

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