King of Diamonds: A Dark Mafia Romance (Vegas Underground Book 1)

by Renee Rose

  Somehow, he still has the wherewithal to remember I haven’t come and he lifts my hips away from the sofa enough to get his hand under me and rub my clit.

  I go off, fireworks splintering in front of my eyes, my body convulsing under his rough touch.

  I’m stuffed full of his cock, dancing against his fingers for long moments—for an eternity. And then it’s over and I forget how to breathe.

  I collapse over the arm of the sofa, my vision black. No, my eyes are closed. I don’t know how long I’ve been lying limp like that, but Nico eases out and it rouses me.

  “Come here, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He spins me around. I can hardly stand on my two feet. I definitely can’t focus.

  His smile is indulgent right before he bends at the waist and places his shoulder against my hip. And then I’m in the air, tossed over his shoulder, my bare ass to the sky. He gives it a slap as he carries me to his bathroom. He holds me like a sack of potatoes as he turns on the water to the shower, then puts me down and pulls off my dress.

  “I wanted to fuck you in here, little girl. That first day I found you cleaning. I put you in the shower and it was all I could do not to strip and follow you in.” He strips now and I stand there, still a rag doll. “It was totally depraved. And then I heard you crying, and I felt like an even bigger asshole.”

  I don’t know what to say, because it is depraved that he wanted to fuck me after what he’d done. And yet, hearing it only brings me the thrill of power I get every time he talks about how much he desires me.

  This incredibly wealthy, powerful, dangerous man thinks I’m his weakness.

  It makes me giddy with power.

  And stupid. Because this is just about sex. It’s an infatuation, for whatever reason. And I’d better watch out or I could find myself in real danger.

  “You’re not really going to keep me prisoner here.” I say it like a statement, but it’s really a question. I have to ask, now that my brain is returning and the adrenaline of fear is starting to return.

  His lids droop to half-mast. He pushes me into the spray of water and follows me in. I find myself pinned against the beautiful Italian marble wall and his hands coast over my breasts, down my sides.

  “Am I going to let you go? It’s debatable. Not until I fuck you at least one more time.”

  My anxieties fade. He’s not insane. He wouldn’t really tie me to the bed—not if I didn’t want it. Not the guy who stopped to make sure I was okay when I whimpered during sex.

  I didn’t think so, but I needed to be sure.

  He grabs a bar of soap and lathers it in both hands, then strokes the suds across my shoulders, then over my breasts. He soaps my belly, down my outer thighs, then he turns me around and gets my back, my ass.

  He starts to stroke between the crack of my ass.

  My legs, already unsteady, start shaking. It’s both embarrassing and arousing to have my anus so thoroughly cleaned, massaged and stroked.

  “I bet this juicy ass has never been fucked before.”

  I stiffen, because, yeah. I’m totally an anal virgin and I’m definitely not into giving it up to him.

  He reaches around the front of me and cups my mons, stroking the tender flesh there ever so lightly. “You’re afraid.” He brings his lips to my ear and then nips me there. “That shouldn’t excite me.”

  My knees lock and I swerve my hips away from him. I definitely don’t want this. Especially not when it sounds like he wants to force it on me.

  He turns me around and cages my throat with his hand. He doesn’t squeeze, just uses it to hold me still for a harsh kiss. Water runs down my face, between our lips. He moves his mouth over mine, fucking me with his tongue, twisting and turning his lips over mine, changing the angle, devouring me.

  After a moment I relax into him, open for the onslaught.

  His hands coast around to my ass and he squeezes, cupping and kneading my cheeks as he makes love to my face.

  His cock hardens against my belly. “I need you again, bambi. Are you going to give it to me like a good girl?”

  Those words shouldn’t turn me on, but they do. My pussy clenches, pelvic floor lifts. I wrap one leg around his waist and invite him in.

  He groans against my lips. “I forgot to bring a condom in.” He removes my leg from his waist and pushes me against the shower wall. “Move from this position and I’ll spank your ass pink. Capiche?”

  “Yeah.” I’m breathless.

  He leans in and kisses me again, hard and twisty lipped. “So sweet.” But then he points a warning finger at me as he backs out of the shower. It’s a gesture that makes my knees weak. It probably makes his enemies piss themselves, his underlings jump into line.

  He’s back a moment later, already rolling the condom on. He crowds against me, leaning his forehead against mine, his cock sawing between my legs.

  “You too sore for this?”

  There it is again—the consideration. I don’t know why it always surprises me. I guess because the rest of the time he can be so harsh. It’s so damn appealing, this mixture of asshole and tenderness. It makes him beyond attractive.

  I am too sore, but I can’t refuse more sex. Not because I don’t want to disappoint him. Because I need it. Even with the orgasms he already gave me, I’m hungry for more. Want to know how this scene ends.

  “Not too sore.” My voice sounds scratchy.

  He presses his thumb in my mouth and I suck on it. “I don’t do gentle, amore. You’d better know that.”

  He pulls his thumb out enough for me to answer, “Are you warning me off again?”

  He kicks my feet wider, then lifts my thigh, but instead of putting it on his hip where it was before, he slaps my pussy.

  I gasp. My nipples harden to diamond points.

  He spanks between my legs again. It’s a punishment of some sort, but I’m not sure what it’s for. Or maybe he just likes to hurt me.

  It wouldn’t surprise me if the mafia kingpin was a sadist. His world is crime and violence.

  But then he melds his mouth over mine and lines up his cock with my entrance. “Take it, then.” His voice is gruff and deep. He thrusts in, filling me.

  I throw my arms around his shoulders and claw the back of his neck. He shoves up, lifting my other foot from the shower floor. I wrap it around his waist and he cups my ass. “You gonna ride my cock good, bambina?”

  My pussy clenches, even as I’m offended. Is this the way he talks to the whores he usually uses?

  But then I forget my ire in the next moment because he starts muttering against my neck as he plows in and out, “So sweet. So fucking good. This pussy could save a man, I swear to Madonna.”

  My upper back presses against the shower wall and he guides my movements, lifting and lowering me as he angles his thrusts up into me.

  The heat of the water and steam, combined with the frantic sex makes me lightheaded.

  Nico’s rough, no doubt about it. I have no control over our movements—he’s driving and he knows exactly what he wants and what he’s doing. My moans take on a higher and higher pitch and then I’m squeezing around his cock, slapping his shoulder.

  “Don’t come,” he commands. “Don’t fucking come until I tell you to.”

  Again, I’m offended. I can’t tell if it’s supposed to be hot or he’s just that controlling. Except it is hot. So hot, I can’t help but obey him, just because I need to know what the reward for obedience will be.

  Just because I’m desperate to reap my reward.

  Nico’s panting, shoving harder and faster, flattening me against the cool tile, the stubble of his five-o’clock shadow scraping and scratching my neck.

  He shifts one of the hands on my ass to brush my crack and I jerk as a jolt of sensation sizzles through me.

  My heart beats too fast, too hard. I’m too hot—I fear I’ll pass out from the steam and the sex. He keeps brushing the tip of his finger over my anus, and the sensation ignites me.

  A low gr
owl echoes off the shower walls and his movements grow jerky. He mutters a string of filthy curses—half in English, half in Italian. Then he roars and shoves deep, biting my neck as he comes.

  At the same time, the bastard breaches my anus with the tip of his finger.

  I want to hate it, but it’s too good. The sensation in my ass is awful and incredible. I go off like a shotgun, coming around his thick cock as his finger eases in a gentle pumping motion.

  I choke on a strangled cry, my inner thighs squeezing hard enough to break his hips as my spasming channel milks his cock for any last fluid remaining.

  And when it stops, I’m wrecked. A low sob comes from my throat. Tears sting my eyes, but it’s only from the release. From the incredible, life-changing, orgasmic release.

  Tacone croons something in Italian and turns off the water. He carries me out of the luxury shower and drapes a towel around my wet back.

  I hardly register what’s happening. My body’s gone limp and my mind hasn’t returned from my trip to outer space.

  Nico lays me on my back on his giant bed and wraps the ends of the towel around my front. Then he flops down beside me. Before my brain clears of the fog stirring, his snores cut through the room.

  I guess good sex is always the cure for insomnia.

  Smiling, I ease away from him and off the bed, then find my clothes in the living room and get dressed.

  I didn’t finish dusting, but I skip it. I’m pretty sure he won’t report me.

  Actually, maybe he’ll punish me for it.

  And that thought has me smiling even wider.

  I push my housekeeping cart out. Tony, his beefy bodyguard, is coming off the elevator headed toward Nico’s room. “Is Mr. Tacone in there?” he asks.

  “Yes, but he’s sleeping.”

  Tony halts in his tracks, then turns back to face me with interest burning in his expression. He takes in my wet hair, my flushing cheeks. I ignore him, hitting the elevator button several more times.

  Tony leans his back against Nico’s door. “You have something to do with him sleeping?”

  I shrug, but can’t stop the smile playing around my lips. “Maybe.”

  Tony shakes his head. I’m thinking he’s going to say something offensive, but instead he breathes, “Thank fuck.”

  The elevator dings and the doors slide open. I escape inside with my cart, eager to call Corey and tell her everything.

  Chapter 7

  Nico

  There’s an actual spring in my step as I stride through my casino the next day. I slept sixteen hours and woke up with a boner hard enough to pound a nail. I didn’t let myself rub one out, either, because now that I’ve finally dipped my cock in Sondra’s tight little pussy, nothing else will do.

  I knew it would be that way.

  She’d better not run, because I’m not about to let her out of my clutches now.

  First thing I did when I woke was make sure she hadn’t checked out of the suite I put her in. She hadn’t. And her employee name tag was sitting in the room, so chances were good she was there, still sleeping.

  Everything seems to be in perfect order at the casino. Things went on without me. I stop at the business office to verify the income from the night before, and start to respond to the forty-seven texts I received while I slept like a bear in hibernation.

  Meanwhile, I’m famished.

  And somehow, I end up on the eighth floor, standing outside the suite where I put Sondra. I pull my keycard out.

  I’m a first class asshole for not knocking. I’m definitely not acting like the gentleman my mamma raised me to be. But I can’t deny the pleasure it gives me—the sheer sense of power and ownership, to slip my keycard into the lock and open the door.

  Sorry, bambina. I warned you I was trouble.

  It’s another fucking wet dream, because I find Sondra in her panties and bra, standing at the mirror in the bathroom. Her head snaps up in surprise, but I don’t give her a chance to say anything, because I’m stalking toward her like a starving man headed for his next meal.

  She’s an angel, her full lips parting in surprise, blue eyes wide but not frightened.

  No, they’re trusting.

  And that should bring my sense back enough to have some decency. To treat her with some respect and courtesy.

  But instead it only fuels my power-crazed lust for her.

  She’s going to let me.

  Again.

  It’s written all over her face.

  I move right in for the kill. Wrap my fist in the back of her soft hair and tug her head back for a kiss at the same time I meld my body to hers.

  She opens for it. Her lips move against mine, and I swear to Christ, she pushes her pelvis out to meet me.

  “Baby. You’re too beautiful.” I mouth fuck her harder, with more insistence. I back her against the bathroom counter and lift her soft ass up on it. “You gonna part those legs for me again, sweetheart? I’m already addicted to your pussy.”

  She opens her knees, arches her breasts up to me.

  I growl and push the cups of her bra down to play with her nipples. “I slept all fucking night. From the time you left until 6 o’clock this morning.”

  She probably has no idea what I’m talking about—how would she know I haven’t slept in months?

  But she smiles—like she’s genuinely happy to hear it. “I know.” She actually looks smug. It’s so adorable I try to kiss the lips right off her face.

  I bring the pad of my thumb between her legs and stroke the tiny swatch of satin separating me from heaven. “How’s your sweet little pussy today? Still sore?”

  She sucks her lower lip between her teeth, which makes my thickened cock go rigid. “Yeah.”

  “You gonna let me in there again, anyway?”

  She doesn’t answer, so I lean down and flick my tongue over her nipple. “Need some convincing first?”

  She weaves her fingers into my hair. “Yeah.”

  Challenge accepted. I still can’t get the sound of her sweet little yes, pleases out of my head from yesterday. I can’t wait to make her beg me for satisfaction again.

  I continue a light, slow stroking over her panties while I suck and pinch her right nipple. It’s pebbled up—has been since I walked in. “Bambi, you have the best set of tits in Nevada. Probably the only real set, too.”

  “Corey’s are real.”

  “Corey’s aren’t half as hot as these.” I don’t want my girl comparing herself to her cousin. Maybe she doesn’t—I don’t really know. But Corey has an exotic beauty that might make some girls envious. It doesn’t do anything for me. Sondra is my new and only template for the perfect female. Smart, sexy, freakishly sweet. A little naughty. Way too nice.

  The need to possess her overwhelms me. I want to flip her around and bang her hard from behind, but I dial it back. I have big plans that involve her begging and pleading my name.

  I move to her left nipple. Her panties grow damp under my thumb. I slip it inside and tap her clit.

  Her teeth snap shut and she throws her head back. “You like that?”

  She rocks her pelvis forward.

  “Hmm?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “You need my tongue between those legs?”

  “Um…” She’s pulling my mouth back to her nipple.

  “I think you do. Spread wider, Sondra. And pull your panties to the side so I can taste you.”

  Her knees snap open and she pulls the panties away.

  I swear to Christ I never thought I’d find myself on my knees for any girl. Now twice in two days I’ve contorted my body to get at this magic pussy. I’d do fucking anything just to have another taste. I throw a folded towel on the floor and drop down, pulling her pussy right up against my mouth.

  Two licks and she’s moaning, tearing at my hair. Her pussy gets wet, wet, wet, and it’s not just from my tongue. I tap her clit while I make my tongue stiff and penetrate her with it. Then I lick all along her slit, tracing the inn
er lips. When I finally suction my mouth over her clit, she screams.

  “Please, Nico!” She clamps her thighs around my ears.

  “That’s it.”

  I can’t wait any longer. I rise and pull her off the counter, spin her around to face the mirror. “Push that ass out for me, little girl.”

  She obeys.

  I yank her panties down and off and nudge her feet wider. I can’t get the condom on fast enough. “Pinch your nipples,” I command as I roll it over my length.

  I get to watch her face in the mirror when I enter her—the way her mouth softens and jaw drops open. The flutter of her lashes as her eyes roll heavenward. I fill her slowly, feeding inch after inch into her tight channel.

  She whimpers and arches her back more.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “No.” It still sounds like a whimper. “I just want it so badly.”

  Ah, fuck. She shouldn’t have said that. Because now I can’t hold back—not even for a second. I grip her hips and start fucking her like there’s no tomorrow. I’m careful to protect the front of her pelvis from banging against the marble countertop, which means I gotta hold her hips away. It’s not enough. I can’t smack in hard enough, can’t get deep enough.

  I loop an arm around her waist so her hips will hit my arm instead of the counter and now I can fuck her as hard as I need to.

  My vision goes blurry, my thighs are already shaking. I slam into her, lights exploding behind my eyes on every instroke.

  I need her.

  I need this.

  So much.

  I can’t stop. Can’t wait. I can’t even—-

  I roar, cum shooting down my shaft. I slam in deep and stay there, my lips against the back of her head.

  It feels so fucking good, I forget completely about satisfying her.

  Fortunately, she found it on her own, because her pussy starts squeezing my cock, the muscles contracting in short bursts of perfection.

  I could die right then and be happy.

  I’m a man who has every material thing, and not an ounce of pleasure in his life. Not a fucking drop of happiness.