Becoming the Mob Queen: An Angel City Mafia Novel (Angel City Mafia Romance)

by Renee Strong

  You don’t get to be good at what I do without trusting your instincts—and my instincts were telling me I needed to make this woman mine.

  I know, I know, it was against my rules. I was always the “fuck ‘em and forget ‘em” king. I couldn’t do any relationship that lasted longer than breakfast. But I felt this irresistible draw to Lexi. I’d put my rules in place for good reason: I’d always thought that you don’t get to live happily ever after when you’re a scumbag like me.

  Since I’d first seen Lexi though, I’d let myself imagine us together, against my better judgment. I’m not some sissy-ass dude who moons over ever broad who flashes an ankle at him—but goddamn, Lexi brought something out in me that exposed my soft little underbelly. The compulsion to make her mine was stronger than any feeling I remember having…ever.

  The best way I could think of doing that—to make her mine for good—was to fuck her better, longer, and harder than she’d ever been fucked before.

  I grabbed her by the waist, hoisted her onto the counter, and pushed her legs open.

  All of a sudden, Dominic was in front of me, just staring hard into my eyes. My legs started to quiver in anticipation. They were shaking so hard, I was sure Dominic could feel it as he slotted his whole body between them.

  “What are you doing?” I asked and wanted to give myself a slap upside the head. It was kind of obvious what he was doing—at the very least I could make an educated guess. From the way he was looking at me, and the steady rise and fall of his chest as his breathing got a little heavier, this man was about to do something to me that would feel very good.

  From out of nowhere, a thought jumped into my head. I tried to make it go away but it wouldn’t leave me alone. I heard myself saying it out loud without even meaning to.

  “Is this some sort of…payment…for you helping me earlier?” I bit the side of my tongue between my molars to stop any more words coming out.

  Jesus Christ, Lexi, who cares why he’s doing this? I asked myself. Just let him do it.

  But the truth was, I did care. I didn’t want sex with him to be like some sort of trophy or goodie bag for good behavior. That wasn’t who I was; I needed to have a real connection to someone to let them inside of me. I couldn’t give it up for someone who thought of me as a piece of meat or sex as something that was owed to him for a job well done.

  Guys like Dominic—they were used to just taking what they want…and then discarding what they didn’t want.

  I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t handle this being a one-time deal, a meaningless encounter to him that he felt entitled to.

  So though my lady parts were screaming for me to shut up, once again my brain and my goddamn heart were pulling in opposite directions. But my sensible side finally decided it was willing to throw this chance for my first ever decent fuck away to preserve my heart.

  Dominic stopped caressing my arm and looked at me with a grin.

  “When I want payment from a pretty lady, I prefer that she blow me. But, I’ll take payment in fucking.”

  His grin widened and those treacherous parts of me shouted again, Shut the hell up, Lexi, and get boned good.

  But nope! My heart wouldn’t let me.

  “I don’t want to use my body as payment with you. You might be okay with fucking someone without emotion but it’s not who I am.” I dropped my eyes to my chest. “I’m sorry. If that’s a deal breaker for you and you want to leave, I understand.”

  The room was suddenly too quiet for me, the silence that hadn’t troubled me a moment ago deafening in my ears. I waited for him to step back…to walk out the door and to never come back.

  But instead, he caught my face under my chin gently with his index finger and thumb. He pulled my face up so that my gaze met him.

  “Hey, I was kidding around,” he said. He rubbed his thumb over my bottom lip and I hungered for him to kiss me. Instead, he moved his hand to begin tracing the lines of my face, wordlessly rubbing his fingers softly over my cheekbones, my eyebrows, running his middle finger down my nose. It felt like he was trying to memorize my face by touch alone.

  “I like you, Lexi. That’s not usual for me. I don’t usually get cut up over a girl. But I can take things as slow as you need me to. I promise you, I’m not going anywhere. We can wait until you’re ready.”

  I didn’t need any more convincing. This Adonis, this chiseled jawed gorgeous man, who could have anything he wanted by taking it by force, was upending everything I thought I knew. This mafia hitman, in that moment gave me more respect than some of the guys I’d dated for months or years in the past.

  It was a surprise to realize that a dangerous gangster heard me, listened to me, and cared about what I wanted to happen. A surprise that made my stomach dance with butterflies.

  “Okay,” I said and he smiled sweetly at me.

  “Okay?”

  “Okay,” I said again. “I’m ready.”

  Mind-blowing sex. I’d read about it in books. Saw it in a couple of movies on late-night cable. But the reality had never happened. I’d long since given up on that earth-shattering, hair-messing, scream-inducing kind of sex that everyone else seemed to be having.

  Sitting on the edge of that countertop, he gave me everything I thought was for other people—the kind of sex that seems to only happen to people in books and on TV.

  And boy, did he give it to me good.

  It was like years of hope and repressing my urges came tumbling down as he got to work kissing me deep. First, he dropped a gentle kiss on my lips, nibbling the bottom one lightly for just a couple of seconds. Then, he parted my lips with his tongue and stroked my tongue gently with his.

  In return, I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him to me so that he could kiss me harder.

  The more he kissed me, the more the veil started to lift on just how unsatisfying my former sex life was.

  In the years before I met Dominic, I had decided that “good enough” was good enough. If the guys I dated weren’t performing in bed, well then, I decided, I could just tend to my own needs later.

  What an idiot I was.

  If someone had have told me this kind of sex was on the cards for me, I would have stayed celibate. There’s no point filling up on boxed wine for years before tasting a thousand-dollar bottle of Merlot. It just makes you sad you wasted so much time on shitty vino.

  Dominic pulled back from the kiss for a moment to hold my face between his hands again and—God!—the feeling of his slightly calloused palms gently pressing on my skin as he kissed me deep again sent shockwaves through my entire body.

  When he pulled away once more, I was disappointed. Was he stopping? Were we done? Had I put him off with being so hesitant?

  But then, he got on his knees. Just like he was the night before, he was wearing an expensive suit—a deep, navy one this time—and my first thought was that I hoped my kitchen floor was clean enough that he wouldn’t dirty his knees.

  Then he stood a little and in a couple of fluid movements, he unbuttoned and shimmied my jeans and my panties to the floor. Once he did that, I didn’t care anymore how clean my floor was.

  Clearly, things were going to get dirty fast and I was going to let them.

  The air of the kitchen hit the skin of my ass and I realized he could see me in daylight now. I wondered if he would hate what he was seeing without the cover of night to cover up my lumps and bumps.

  That fear disappeared in a heartbeat as he held my two legs out straight and began to plant butterfly kisses from my knees to my thighs, starting with one leg and then with the other. As he reached my inner thighs, the trepidation made me want to cry out, to tell him to go further, but I resisted. He seemed to know what he was doing; I should just let the master work.

  So instead, I clasped my hands around the edge of the countertop to steady myself as he started to kiss and lick his way toward my expectant pussy. He still had my legs still in his grasp, and when he shoved them open, I tilted my pelvis up for hi
m. After one more teasing lick of my pubic bone, he took my clit in his mouth, flicking his tongue gently against it as he sucked.

  Soft and wet, his mouth warmed my clit and my soul, and a rush of blood gushed to my vulva as he kept up his gentle flicking.

  His fingers stroked a line up and down my thighs, soft then hard and then soft again, in a way that made my body tense as my muscles figured out how to handle his touch.

  With each gentle stroke of his fingers, my skin gave a little shiver. Each time he followed that with a harder scrape, his fingers digging into my skin and leaving thin, red lines, I just wanted him to take me immediately. The switch between the two physical sensations—gentle then gorgeously painful—was driving me crazy.

  Until, without warning, he plunged two fingers into my pussy, and I cried out in pleasure. I could feel how wet I was around his fingers. I was so wet, the two fingers barely registered, so when he entered a third finger, I spasmed once in pleasure. Slowly at first, still sucking my clit, he caressed his fingers against my wall, finding a nub I never knew existed. When he pressed on it, I clenched my jaw shut in ecstasy. The feeling was one I’d never experienced before.

  “Oh God, what is that?” I said breathily and he stopped to look me in my eyes, breaking from my clit for just a second.

  “That, my queen, is your g-spot...and I’m going to tickle it until you cum hard for me.”

  “No!” I cried out, sounding more horrified at the prospect than I should. He looked at me with one eyebrow raised in surprise.

  “No,” I said again more softly and seductive this time. “I want to feel you inside of me. I want to cum with your dick inside me.”

  He smiled a sexy little smile and pulled me forward so that I was standing, my back leaning against the counter once more.

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  As he reached into the pocket of his jacket, I clawed at the belt on his trousers, my hands too shaky and clumsy to do it easily. After what felt like an eternity, I managed to loosen it and get to his button and zipper. More adept this time, I opened his trousers and they fell to the floor with a satisfying clang of his belt buckle.

  I watched for a moment, taking in his glorious beauty, as he stood in tight black boxers in front of me, his erection large and full beneath them.

  As I stared, he pulled out his wallet from his jacket pocket. Still too many clothes on him, I decided, so I tugged at his tie. It came free with a moment’s movement. He licked his lips as I did it, his breath heavier now.

  Planting the wallet on the counter, he took his jacket off. It dropped to the floor to meet his trousers. Next, he unbuttoned his shirt, a teasing look in his eye as he undid each button achingly slowly. He was obviously enjoying how much I wanted him—and that made me feel like the sexiest woman alive.

  The second he got to the last button was the last second I could stand to not touch him. I reached forward and palmed his chest. It was just as hard and toned as I had imagined it to be when I saw him first. Each ab looked like it had been carved into marble, so perfect were they.

  I needed him to enter me right now, I decided with frantic lust.

  I tried to pull him closer but he shook his head.

  “Not so fast,” he said, his voice a teasing purr. “Help me out of my shorts first.”

  I didn’t need to be asked twice. Pushing my fingers under the back of his waistband, I savored the chance to touch his taut and round ass. If I ever die, I’ve figured out the way I want to go—grabbing that amazing ass with both hands.

  I let my hands linger a few moments later than I absolutely needed to, enjoying the warmth and the curve of his toned butt, before I pushed his shorts down.

  Prior to that unveiling, I was not one of those girls who liked the sight of cocks particularly much. I was of the opinion that if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all, and none of them are particularly attractive.

  Let me tell you: I was wrong about that.

  When I pushed down his shorts and saw the beast I had freed, I stifled a gasp. If there was such a thing as the one true cock, I thought in nerdy appreciation, Dominic’s was it: long, thick, and smooth. I dropped to my knees in genuflection at it.

  I didn’t stare long; I was hungry to taste it, to wrap my mouth around it, so I did just that. He let out a surprised “oh” and the sound of it spurred me on to make him cum. Slowly at first, then faster, I moved my wet mouth along his length, reveling in his appreciative murmurs as I did.

  “Fuck,” he breathed. “Fuck that’s good.”

  With each pant from him, I wanted to do more to him. I reached out to cup his balls and ran my lips back and over the head of his penis.

  “You’re going to have to stop,” he said after a little while, “or we’ll reach the big finale sooner than either of us wants.”

  I pulled my lips away and grinned up at him for the compliment.

  “Goddamn, you’re sexy,” he said as he looked down at me, and I flushed with pleasure.

  I’m no slouch in the bedroom—I know my way around a dick—but before Dominic, I was a paint-by-numbers kind of gal. I knew exactly what to do to get a guy to cum as quickly as possible so that it would be over for me as soon as possible. It was like playing a computer game for me: Press button A and wiggle joystick B and then you can finish the game quickly.

  But with Dominic, I wanted to bring him close to the edge, to hear him scream out in pleasure and shout my name as an orgasm wracked through me. Just the way he looked at me made me feel sexy and wanted. I ached to please him and to be the one to make him cum hard.

  “Go lean over that chair,” he said to me, pointing to the kitchen chair I’d pulled out to clean his wound. “But first, take off the rest of your clothes for me.”

  I did exactly what he told me and found myself eagerly, and for the first time in my life, giving a striptease. My jeans and panties were gone already, but I pulled at each sleeve of my jacket slowly, then wriggled out of it in time to music only I could hear. Next, I slowly, teasingly, grabbed the bottom of my shirt and shifted it inch by inch to pull it over my head.

  Shirt off, in just my bra, I paused a moment as Dominic gave a low whistle. Then I reached behind and undid the clasp, flinging the bra away from me once loose.

  I don’t know what had come over me. I’m not the kind of woman who drives guys wild—but to Dominic I apparently was. In front of him, I didn’t care about my imperfections. The way Dominic stared at me made me feel as though I was just perfect.

  His mouth opened appreciatively as he took in my naked form, his gaze lingering on my breasts as it had done the night he met me.

  “I have to fuck you now,” he said commandingly and I shivered with excitement and lust.

  He strode over and pressed my naked body to him, kissing me fully and passionately. My mind swam with pleasure and fragments of thoughts I couldn’t quite grasp.

  He pulled back and growled into my ear. “I thought I told you to lean over that chair.”

  I felt myself gush wet for him as I turned and pressed my stomach over the chair, my ass facing into him. I heard the rustle of a condom—he must have grabbed it from his wallet—and I held my breath waiting for his next move.

  And then, with a cry of pleasure from his lips as he entered, he plunged his cock into my wet and waiting pussy. A sound of ecstasy I’ve never heard from myself fell from my lips. As wet as I was, his cock was still big and filling me up.

  I caught my breath again as he pulled it out and pushed it back in, over and over. Each time he pulled out, he stayed out a little longer, pushing me to the edge of anticipation until finally I couldn’t take it any more.

  “Please, Dominic,” I begged. “Just fuck me hard and fast.”

  He pushed into me one more time then leaned over me.

  “Say please again,” he said, his breath hot on my shoulder.

  “Please,” I said quietly once. He began to thrust slowly, building up to a hard rhythm. “Please, please, pleas
e!” I cried out, crying louder with each harder and faster thrust.

  “God, it feels so good to be inside of you,” he said. “Better than I even imagined.”

  The words made me hungrier for him. I grabbed his hand and brought it to my clitoris and he took the cue, rubbing and caressing as he pumped.

  And then—I swear a choir of angels should have appeared for the miracle I’d just experienced—I started to cum, in shuddering, ragged breaths. As my cervix spasmed around his length, I heard him moan a single time, then exhale one long, hot breath. He slumped over my back and we sat there silently like that for a few moments, just panting against each other.

  “We need to do that a lot,” he said.

  I grinned. Yes, we absolutely did.

  Lexi finally got to make that coffee that she had promised before we’d gotten...let’s say...sidetracked.

  I sat myself into her armchair to enjoy the view.

  She had put on my shirt and her panties. I could have just sat and stared at her for the rest of the day—the peek of her breasts from under the expensive cotton was a sight to behold. I never wanted to wear that shirt again. It could never look as good on anyone as it did on Lexi.

  Each time she caught me staring, she flushed a little and gave a small smile.

  “Quit it,” she said with just the hint of a grin the final time she caught me.

  “Why?” I said. “You’re gorgeous.”

  Her cheeks and chest reddened.

  “I am not,” she said, adorably embarrassed.

  “You are,” I said firmly. “And I’ll tell you that every day until you believe it.”

  It wasn’t a line. It was damn near criminal that a woman like that didn’t realize just how stunning she was. Any of the guys I knew would give their right arm and maybe a leg too to be with a woman like her.

  I couldn’t understand why she didn’t see herself like I did. Maybe she’d spent so long around losers and drunks in that bar that she must have thought their viewpoint and way of being was normal. She had no one telling her how gorgeous she was every day. Like I said—it was damn near criminal.