I barely get a good look at the white interior of the bathhouse, with two closed-off showers and a sauna—before Diego slams the door and takes hold of my shoulder. My back meets the wall and he crowds into me, eyes blazing. He’s lost his glasses, and the bright lights show me just how pissed he is. But there’s something else, too. The heat that makes me catch fire whenever he’s close; the need that emanates from him and infiltrates the deepest part of me.
For a long while he just stands there looking at me, chest swelling with heaving breaths, jaw clenched so tight I can see the flex and protrusion of the muscles through his skin.
“Are you mad at me?” I ask, unable to stand the silence another second.
Diego doesn’t reply with words. Instead, he brings his lips crashing against mine with a savage groan. He presses so close I can feel every hard, hot inch of him—even feel his heartbeat, thumping wildly against my breast. His hands frame my throat, then move up to cup my face. Diego’s grip isn’t gentle, but I don’t need it to be. I go up in flames like a struck match, kissing him back with an intensity matching his. Our tongues thrust and push against each other’s, and the stinging bite of his teeth makes me cry out and then beg for more with soft whimpers. He’s consuming me, pulling me apart and taking what he wants. I’m helpless to resist, and I don’t want him to stop.
My body does the talking for me. I touch him everywhere, my fingers sliding through his hair and down his neck, my nails raking his back through the fabric of his shirt. Diego tilts my head and invades my mouth with his tongue, filling me with the taste and wet, warm feel of him. One of his hands slips between us, skimming my belly toward the edge of my thong. I part my legs when he slips his fingers inside, his knuckles running along my slit.
“Yes,” I whisper against his lips. “Please … Diego.”
With a grunt, he snatches his hand away and then spins me to face the wall. I’ve hardly caught my breath before he captures my hands behind my back and kicks my feet apart, leaving me vulnerable and spread.
“It’s too late for begging, gatita,” he rasps, lips trailing along the edge of my ear. “You asked for this.”
Confused and drowning in a haze of arousal, I try to look at him over my shoulder. I can only see the edge of his jaw and his full, perfect lips set in a hard, stern line. Fuck, it’s turning me on. Everything about him turns me on, even when try my best to hate him.
“But … you said if I was good—”
His hand cracks against one of my ass cheeks, shocking me into silence. My skin grows hot, leaving behind a tingling sensation.
“And you think you’ve been a good girl?” he growls, biting my ear until I yelp, then running his tongue over the throbbing skin. “You’re a goddamn tease and a troublemaker. Coming out of the house in that bikini and strutting around knowing I was watching, knowing how sexy you look. Then you come over and lay on me and start rubbing this tight ass all over my dick, and you thought you would get away with it?”
“I … I thought it would help convince Oleg and …”
He slaps me again on the opposite cheek. My legs jerk, and it’s all I can do to stay on my feet. My ass is uncomfortably hot and starting to throb, and I know he hasn’t even hit me as hard as he’s able to.
“You thought it would get me hot and bothered. You thought you could lead me around by the dick. But you’re forgetting one important thing, Elena. I own you. I can have you when I want, wherever I want, however I want, and no amount of teasing or games is going to change that. Do you understand?”
I’m too caught off guard by the question that I don’t answer fast enough to satisfy him. Three more sharp blows land on my ass, making me arch against the wall. The wide spread of my legs and his hold on my hands keeps me from bucking away, so I can only stand there with tears welling in my eyes and feel it all. He leans into me, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against my ass through his slacks. I’m panting and squirming in his hold, dizzy from the sensations racing through me—things I never realized could feel so good.
“I asked you a question, Elena.”
This time I respond on command, my cheeks clenching at the thought of another spanking. “Yes … I understand.”
He slaps my upper thigh, right where it meets my butt cheek, and the pain of it sends me up on my toes. A scream burns in my throat, but I choke it down, not wanting anyone to hear what’s going on in here. It’s already mortifying to know they’re probably speculating over what Diego is doing to me.
“Good girls get rewarded,” he whispers, squeezing my throbbing ass so hard my knees buckle. “Bad girls get punished. Are you a good girl, Elena? Or are you a bad girl who needs to be punished?”
Oh, God. My legs are shaking and the wall is the only thing keeping me on my feet. I can feel myself getting wetter the longer he does this to me, making me crave his depravity. I can’t believe I’m actually aroused by a spanking and the degrading things he’s saying to me … but damn, I can’t seem to control it. Something inside me is coming alive, reveling in having all control taken away and being forced to accept whatever Diego dishes out. There’s a rush in my veins that sends my head floating on a high better than the few times I’ve tried pot.
“I … I’m a good girl,” I whimper.
Diego snorts. “No, you’re not. But you will be when I’m finished with you. Get on your knees.”
He releases me so abruptly I don’t have to expend any effort doing what he says. I fall to the floor, using my hands to keep from going face-down on the hard tiles. Diego is still standing close, his tattooed hands working at his belt buckle. The hard outline of his cock against his pants is unmistakable. My pussy clenches and throbs as I watch him unbuckle, unbutton, and unzip. He’s wearing black briefs, the fabric showing a wet spot of pre-cum. Pushing them down, he takes hold of his cock and starts stroking it. It’s as monstrous as I remember—big and thick and bulging with juicy veins. More pre-cum leaks from his head, and his heavy balls draw up tight against his body.
Snatching the rest of his shirt buttons open, he steps closer and angles his cock toward my lips. “Suck me.”
I become Diego’s pet again, acting on command in hope of a reward. No, that’s not true. I act on command because I want to … because the sight of that perfect cock made me want to take it into my body. Because for the first time in months I finally feel like I’m in control of something. Diego has made his point—he’s in charge here, and he doesn’t want me to forget it. But the actions I’m taking now—wrapping my fingers around his shaft and licking at his swollen head—aren’t being forced or coerced out of me. I’m doing this because it will feel good, because I’m tired of being afraid and uncertain. Even for a few minutes, it’ll be nice to feel something else. Something pure and raw and real.
Diego’s deep, rough moan sends another bolt of lightning through me. Resting a hand against the wall, he holds the back of my head and pushes into my mouth. He doesn’t stop until he reaches the back of my throat, backing up a few inches when I gag. But then he’s thrusting right back in, ruthlessly fucking my mouth and taking his own pleasure. I widen my jaw and try to relax and keep up with his hammering pace. My eyes burn and start to water, and after a while I can only kneel there with my mouth open and let him take what he wants.
“Fuck, this mouth,” he groans, using a thumb to swipe the tear racing down my cheek. “I love this perfect, sexy mouth, gatita. Dreamed about fucking it … just … like … this.”
His words push me over the edge, and I can’t remain passive. I’m burning with need and so wet that my juices have soaked through my bikini to dampen the insides of my thighs. Bobbing my head to match Diego’s rhythm, I slip a hand into my thong and press my fingers against the swollen, pulsing flesh of my cunt. I groan around his cock, so close to coming already it’s ridiculous.
Diego stares down at me with unfocused eyes and shakes his head. “Don’t you dare. Good girls don’t touch themselves without permission. And you’re a good girl, are
n’t you, Elena?”
I mumble my agreement around a mouthful of Diego’s cock, frustration making me tremble as I remove my hand from between my legs.
“Let me see how wet you are,” he commands, still steadily pumping in and out of my mouth.
I raise my fingers so he can see my juices glistening on the tips, and he makes a low sound of approval before pressing his cock as far in as it will go.
“Fuck, yes … that’s so good. That’s my good girl … just like that.”
I close my eyes and fight for breath as Diego forgets to take it easy on me. Either that, or he’s stopped caring that I have a pesky gag reflex. He grips my head with both hands, cursing and snapping his hips until I feel as if I have no choice but to swallow or black out. My throat convulses around the tip of him, and Diego comes with a roar muffled through clenched teeth. His cock jerks and spasms in my mouth, his semen coating my tongue and sliding down my throat.
I fall against the wall when he pulls free, gasping for breath and dying for him to touch me. Hell, he could pinch my nipple and I’d probably go off like a firework.
Diego’s eyes are cold and shuttered again now that I’ve made him come. Maintaining my gaze, he holds his cock and slides it along my cheek, leaving a streak of his semen behind. Marking his territory. Marking me.
“Clean yourself up,” he says while buttoning his shirt. “Take your time. When you come out, I have an announcement to make and I need you by my side for it. You will smile and be gracious. Is that understood?”
I can’t manage words, so I nod and start trying to get to my feet. Diego finishes straightening himself out, and it’s annoying that he still looks so put together after what we just did. He doesn’t even have a hair out of place. While I trudge to the sink and start rinsing my mouth out, Diego looms behind me. I lift my head and meet his stare in the mirror.
“Stay away from Viktor Yezhov. He has a reputation with women that would land him in prison if Oleg weren’t his father.”
I swipe the back of my hand across my lips. “I thought all you mafia guys had the cops in your back pockets.”
Diego grips the back of my neck and wrenches me upright. “This isn’t a game, Elena. If you give that prick an inch, he’ll take a mile and he won’t wait for permission.”
I want to retort that Diego hardly asked me for permission before making me choke on his cock, but I let it go. I was willing and Diego knows it. He also knows that when he’s ready to take more from me, I’ll be willing then, too. My plan aside, it’s pretty obvious that I can’t help but give in when this invisible force exists between us.
The only salvation is for me to get away from him, but that’s becoming harder each day.
After finger-combing my hair and splashing my face with cool water, I leave the bathhouse. Diego is standing near the pool, and it looks like everyone has gathered around to wait for this big announcement. All eyes fall on me, and my steps slow as I approach, suddenly feeling nervous. I want to go back into the bathhouse and hide until they’ve all left. But I can’t do that. I’ve promised to play this role, and I have to see it through if I want to keep all the small freedoms I’ve gained—and perhaps earn a few more.
Diego is holding my cover-up over one arm, and his hands cradle two glasses of what look like champagne. I’m dizzy and disoriented from wondering what the hell is going on, but I move on autopilot, smiling at him as I accept the cover-up and slip it on. At least now no one will see how red and swollen my ass is after that spanking.
Slipping a champagne flute into my hand, Diego touches the small of my back and then kisses my cheek. The look he gives me as he pulls away is heavy with a warning I can’t interpret. I want to scream and shake him, and demand he tell me what the hell he’s doing.
“Thank you all for coming this afternoon,” he says, raising his glass.
The others are holding champagne also—except for the kids. Jovan has a smug smirk on his face and Marcella is giving me questioning looks. I shake my head, just as confused as she is.
“You might wonder why I didn’t choose to do this during a more elegant occasion,” Diego continues. “But I can’t think of a better time than when gathered with the people I care for most and their families. That’s what we are—the Pérezes and the Yezhovs—two families who might soon become one. And so, I’m happy to inform you all that I have asked Elena to marry me … and she has accepted.”
18
Diego
Elena waits until we’ve made it to the bedroom before she unleashes hell on me. I can’t pretend to be surprised. I expected a hissy fit of epic proportions after my surprise. Originally, I hadn’t planned to announce it during the barbecue. My intention had been to throw a cocktail party that would double as a surprise engagement celebration. It would be elegant and refined, and the very least of what a woman deserves when taking such a monumental step.
But Elena isn’t my girlfriend. We aren’t in a loving relationship, and this marriage will happen whether she wants it or not. There was no way for me to do it without upsetting her, so I felt no need to wait—especially after Viktor crossed the line. I nearly lost control in front of the entire party, but luckily made it to the bathhouse before venting my frustration and jealousy.
It takes swallowing a heavy lump of pride to admit that watching Viktor get close to Elena made me see red. I wanted to howl and roar and smash something—preferably that Russian prick’s pretty face. What happened in the bathhouse was a long time coming, and it felt so fucking good to finally have Elena the way I wanted. By the time I came down her throat, I had made up my mind. I need to have the rest of her—all of her—and it can’t wait. I might be rushing this marriage to put an end to the power struggle with Oleg, but I won’t deny I have my own motives. Motives that make me want to rush her to the courthouse first thing in the morning to get it done.
That’s not the way things are done in my world. Everything must be done with as much fanfare as possible. Which means I have no choice but to rely on mine and Elena’s agreement to keep her in check when we’re in public. Private time is another matter.
Elena smiled and leaned into me like a loving fiancée after the announcement. She accepted hugs and congratulations without batting an eyelash. Standing at my side for what was left of the party, she presented the perfect image of my future bride, proving that I’m making the right decision. Not every woman is cut out for life at a mobster’s side. Elena has what it takes, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.
Once we step into the bedroom, I lock the door and turn to face her, waiting for the bomb to drop.
Elena puts her hands on her hips and gives me a stare that would melt the flesh from my bones if looks could kill. “What … the fuck … was that?”
Her voice is low and raspy, but I can hear the fury simmering in the undertones.
“It’s exactly what I said it is. We’re getting married.”
Threading her fingers through her hair, Elena lets out a rough growl. “Are you out of your mind? This was not what we agreed on!”
I cross my arms and lean against the door. “It’s exactly what we agreed on. You belong to me now, and I do what I want with you. In exchange, you get to live.”
Elena starts pacing and shaking her head as if trying to wake up from a lucid dream. “You told me this was just an act to get Oleg off your back. You lied to me.”
“No, I simply changed my mind. I came to see that marrying you is the answer to all our problems.”
She uses one arm to swipe the contents of my nightstand to the floor. The glass Mariana filled for me shatters and water splashes the carpet. My pill bottles roll in different directions, and the watch I left there last night crashes against the wall.
“Our problems? This shit with Oleg is your mess, not mine!”
I push away from the door and reach for her. Elena slaps my hand away, causing the first crack in my calm demeanor. Stalking her across the room, I consider bending her over and spanking her again
. Just the thought of her ass, bared by that scrap of a bikini and turned red with my handprints, makes my cock start to swell.
“There’s only one flaw in your logic, gatita. Because of our agreement, my problems are your problems. To keep up your end of the bargain, you need to continue being of use to me. Now, you’ll do it as a wife and not just a girlfriend.”
“So, if I refuse to go through with it, you’ll kill me. Is that what you’re saying?”
She’s screaming now, arms spread wide and eyes darting. She stops retreating, and when I get close enough, she shoves me. It isn’t enough to move me, so she snarls and slams her palm into my jaw. The blow doesn’t throw me as much as the look in her eyes—desperate and pained and terrified.
“I’ll allow that because you’re angry and entitled to your feelings,” I warn her. “But if you raise your hand to me again, your punishment in the bathhouse will seem like child’s play compared to what I’ll do to you.”
“Fuck you!” she bellows. “I won’t do it. Do you hear me? I would rather die than marry you, so if that’s how it has to be then let’s get it over with.”
I go deathly still as she backs toward the nightstand again, this time reaching for the drawer. It’s where I keep one of my pistols and Elena knows that because she’s seen me stash it there every night before bed. A piece of glass sinks into the sole of her foot, but she doesn’t seem to notice as she offers the gun to me by its barrel.
“Elena,” I whisper, both fear and anger roiling through me at once. The fear isn’t for my own sake. It was clear the night she tried to escape that Elena had never used a gun. If she decides to turn it on me, she’d miss … but my .45 caliber Taurus Judge would kick so hard it would likely injure her delicate wrist. “Put down the gun.”
Tears fall down her cheeks, tanned bronze from her day in the sun. The lighter tones of brown in her eyes are brighter in contrast, glistening like warm honey. “No. Every time I do what you demand in exchange for my life, you change the requirements … you move the goalpost. You’ll keep doing it until there’s nothing left of me, and I can’t live like that. If it means I have to pay for it with my life, then let’s do this. Shoot me Diego. End this right now.”
Marrying the Mobster: American Gangsters 1 (Leave Me Breathless) Page 14
