Maid for the Italian Mafia

by Flora Ferrari

  The sound of her voice shocks me back into the moment.

  “You didn’t hear me the first two times?” she continues.

  Nope, I didn’t hear anything. Nothing else exists when I catch sight of Matteo.

  My eyes dart to the polish which is indeed running off the edge of the table, and I quickly look back towards Matteo…but he’s gone.

  It’s better that way, anyway. I’m ashamed of making a mess in his perfect home…and the last thing I want to do is get fired from this job. He pays well above market rates, not to mention if I lose this my prospects are pretty bleak.

  “Sorry. I’m really sorry,” I say as I lunge forward to grab the bottle to set it upright, but instead all I do is knock it forward.

  It rolls to the edge of the table and I dive for it. Everything seems like it’s in slow motion, just like in a movie, but instead of catching the bottle, the rest of its contents just spill all over me.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Gabriele questions, with a raised eyebrow as I lay there on the floor, covered in polish.

  It’s not what’s gotten into me, it’s what I can’t stop thinking about that I want to get into me.

  Him.

  “I’m fine. I’m just…I just could have used some more coffee this morning.”

  Gabriele just shakes her head at me. “It’s best if you go change into another uniform. You know Mr. Milano likes everything perfect and if he sees you like that he’ll probably…well, I don’t even want to know what he might do.”

  “Okay,” I say and quickly get to my feet.

  “I’ll fix this. Just…go,” she finishes, and I don’t waste another second. I’m embarrassed, knowing Matteo saw the first part of my clumsiness, but thankfully not my last. Not to mention I’ve angered Gabriele, who could technically end my employment with the snap of her fingers.

  If she knew the thoughts I was having about my boss, surely she’d end my employment on the spot. Gabriele is the exact opposite of me. She’s tall, slim and always looks like a million bucks…whether she’s in a maid outfit or not, even though I’ve only seen her out of her uniform once. There’s no doubt she has no trouble with men, as I do. I don’t mind. Landing this maid job has been a godsend. It doesn’t require me to put on a smiling face or pretend to be extroverted at all, something that many other jobs would. I thought about retail, but dismissed that thought immediately. Just the thought of dealing with people all day sent my anxiety through the roof.

  I quickly enter the employee area, and grab a uniform from the rack. I turn the shower nob, but no water comes out. I try the other direction…still nothing.

  I need to get cleaned up asap, but that’s going to be impossible without water.

  I grab a towel and dab it on my uniform, but it’s not helping…and the polish has already made its way through the fabric. The feel of it on my skin is weird and unsettling.

  I move to the sink and try the faucet. A blast of water splashes everywhere, before the faucet kicks like an engine trying to turn over, and then nothing.

  My mind races, remembering that Gabriele mentioned something about a plumber working in this part of the house today.

  Crap! I’ll need to go to another wing of the house if I want water during this window of a couple hours. At least water that isn’t splashed all over me right about now.

  With no time to waste, and wanting to get back to work asap to make sure I don’t lose this job, I hurry out of the employee area, pushing the door open quickly, my body following it forward immediately…until suddenly I come to a crashing halt.

  I start to fall backwards before a set of big hands grab me and pull me back upright. I don’t have to look up to know who’s standing right in front of me right now.

  It’s the brick wall known as Matteo.

  As I look up, I watch his eyes rake over my wet top and I feel my nipples harden instantly as his eyes fixate on my large chest.

  I want to say something, but I don’t trust myself to try and form a coherent thought right now…not to mention my mouth won’t open for the life of me.

  “Mandy,” he says, his voice like honey dripping off hot steel. “I was just coming to get you.”

  To get me?

  “The plumber’s left and we need to clean up the area where he performed his duties,” he says, his eyes slowly rising to meet mine.

  There are definitely some duties I’d like Matteo to perform on me right now. Maybe he could start with spanking me for all the mistakes I’ve made this morning, and we could move on from there.

  “Yes, sir,” I say, the words barely audible and I curse my voice box for failing me now.

  “Call me Matteo,” he replies, but the first thing Gabriele ever said to me bounces off the sides of my brain like a pinball machine.

  Don’t ever call him Matteo, even if for some crazy reason he says you can.

  “Yes…sir.”

  “I said…call me Matteo,” he demands as he just stands there awaiting my response. The only thing that’s missing is a teacher’s scolding and the words, “Let’s try again.”

  “Yes…Matteo.”

  His eyelids roll shut and his head tips back, his nostrils flaring as his grip on me tightens.

  His head leans back forward and his eyes slowly open as he exhales.

  “Say it again.”

  “Matteo?” I ask.

  He nods, as his body leans in closer and he inhales a whiff of my scent.

  He releases his white-knuckle grip on me and pivots on his heel and just walks off as if nothing happened…even though something sure as hell did happen.

  Now, it’s not just the top of my uniform that’s wet…but the middle too.

  CHAPTER 2

  Matteo

  I walk into the kitchen, and pour myself a big glass of water and downing it like a frat boy in a beer chugging contest.

  But I’m no boy. I’m a fucking man, and not that I ever need reminding of that, but damn…Mandy has awoken something primal inside me.

  I put the glass down and my hands find the sides of the sink as I lean forward, trying to catch my breath.

  I shake my head and look out the window and for the first time in my life I have a vision of children playing outside in the yard…my yard, our yard…our children.

  Fuck, this can’t be happening to me. I’m a societal outcast, a hardened criminal, and there’s no place in my life for weaknesses.

  But I know Mandy’s anything but. Just seeing her each and every day gives me so much damn strength. It’s like she’s become this drug that I’m addicted to, although I’ve never actually tried a drug in my life. I keep my head clear and my thoughts flowing smoothly…I don’t need any substances to cloud my judgment.

  And my judgment is clear, crystal clear, when it comes to her.

  She will be mine. It’s only a matter of time, and I’m not about to waste much more of it.

  But first I need to calm down. That fucking moment we just had almost sent me over the edge…almost had me losing my self-control for the first time in my life. I had to get out of there before I took her right then and there. The way she looked in that wet top…fuck me. Or better yet, fuck her…because that’s exactly what I’m going to do to her. Claim her. Make her mine.

  Intentionally avoiding seeing her again I walk out of the kitchen and take the elevator upstairs to the surveillance control room.

  Without wasting a second I kick the door shut behind me and my ass finds the plush leather chair just as my back hits the back of it.

  I should be completely comfortable, although I’m anything but.

  I pull up the screens, shocked to see that Mandy is already back to work. The woman doesn’t even take a second to think about herself…only about me and doing a good job. A great job as a matter of fact.

  I should go down there and tell her to take a shower, or even take the rest of the day off after what happened. But instead my debaucherous mind, but only when it comes to her, pulls up the camera that
shows Mandy as I put it into full screen mode, and then I have that same camera zoom in on that ass of hers.

  Damn, she is thick, and I want nothing more than to slam the fuck out of her from behind. Little frail girls? Not a chance. Never attracted to them. Those models on the runways in Milan need to take a visit or ten to Sicily and eat pizza for weeks on end in order to get to a respectable weight. I can’t stand a girl who barely eats, especially those model types, not to mention I consume food like a ravenous dog.

  I once heard it said best by a famous fashion designer in an Italian nightclub when a stick-thin model tried to give him advice on consumer fashion tastes in regards to his latest collection. “I refuse to discuss taste with a woman who reeks of empty stomach breath,” was his reply.

  And what I want to taste more than anything right now is that pretty, pink pussy of hers. Has it ever been touched? It better not have been.

  I damn near rip the joystick handle off, not realizing I’d even taken hold of it, let alone was gripping it so hard as I zoomed in on her as I watch her swivel her hips as she moves through my house cleaning.

  Our house.

  Damn, why am I so on edge? Why am I practically nervous sitting up here in this room by myself? I’ve been sent to do things that most men couldn’t fathom, and my hands have never remained anything but calm, ice water running through my veins.

  But when I watch her work? Hell, I can’t even control my breathing, let alone my grip.

  She’s the most adorably sexy woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, a real woman with real curves that would put a plus-sized model to shame.

  But it’s not just the physical. I watch the great attention to detail she takes cleaning and it only reinforces what I already know…she’d be amazing with my children…our children.

  She’d make everything perfect for them, and me. If she gives my home this much attention, imagine how much she’d give an actual living, breathing thing…our thing, our child.

  I have to let her know, but I know she’s not going to just fall for my physical size and muscles like other women do. She doesn’t put herself out like that, and the challenge turns me on even more…makes her more irresistible to me. I’ve never faced a challenge like her…ever.

  My pulse quickens and my cock is hard as a rock in my trousers. This woman is doing things to me that I’ve never experienced before in all my thirty-seven years. I just want to go down there right now, pull her close to me and claim her as mine…and tell her so while I’m doing it.

  She doesn’t even have a choice at this point. She is mine. I just haven’t told her yet.

  I haven’t been able to think straight since she showed up that first day for the interview to be my maid. The minute she walked through that door all the other interviews were cancelled. I didn’t even care if she didn’t know how to clean. All I cared about was making her mine. The fact that she actually is an incredible worker who cares about my things, and my life is just one helluva bonus…and only reinforces my initial gut reaction of her.

  Perfection.

  I unzip my fly and strain to pull my pants down mid-ass so I can whip my throbbing cock out. The fucker is already harder than it’s ever been, and the top is covered in creamy pre-cum. Fuck, she’s turning me into a pathetic, horny sixteen-year-old or something along those lines.

  I slowly stroke my rod, watching her back straighten just before she bends over to dust off the pot of a plant.

  My vision blurs as I take in the sight of her in that bent over position, her feet spread wide as I imagine her bent over like that for me. Imagine my dick sliding inside her for the first time, making her mine once and for all and taking her away from the rest of the world, from other men who might look at her. And those same men who I’d be forced to rip their fucking eyeballs from their skull for even trying to take a glance at what’s mine.

  Mine.

  Always.

  I feel like I’m about to explode already. I told myself I wasn’t going to get this phallic victory. I told myself I wouldn’t please myself to her until she was mine for real and I was inside her…but I can’t take it anymore.

  I breathe in deep trying to prolong this feeling, but knowing I’m already close.

  I’ve got a white-knuckle death grip on my cock. I know it without even looking. And I know her virginal pussy is going to be just as tight.

  My pussy.

  I continue stroking envisioning making her mine…it’s only a matter of time after all.

  And once I get my release and I’m able to think straight for the first time since she arrived, I’m going to march down there and tell her who she belongs to.

  Or better yet…show her.

  CHAPTER 3

  Mandy

  “Why don’t you go clean the surveillance room real quick, and then you can use the upstairs shower to fix yourself up,” Gabriele suggests.

  “Good idea.”

  I take my supplies and make my way upstairs, my mind still on that run-in with Matteo…the way he looked at me with so much want in his eyes.

  But there’s just no way that was the case. He was shocked to see me in such a state, not aroused. But a girl can dream, right?

  I just need to stick to my job, and do it to the best of my abilities.

  I set my things down outside the surveillance room and prepare to type in the code, but before I can I see that the green light is on. That’s strange…that means the door must be unlocked.

  For some reason I’m feeling good right now, maybe it’s knowing that once I clean up this room real quick I’ll be in the shower, my hand between my legs thinking of Matteo and imagining that moment we had was real…that it was so much more.

  I start to whistle as I put my shoulder into the big heavy door and turn the handle, entering.

  Before I take in the sight of the room, I reach back and grab my cleaning supplies and then turn as I do, taking a step inside the room and letting the door shut behind me.

  Immediately the bucket falls from my hand, crashing to the floor.

  “Mandy!” Matteo groans, his dick in his hand as he’s laid back in that big leather chair at the control panel.

  “I’m…I’m so sorry!” I say, my torso turning to go but my feet feeling like they’re stuck in quicksand.

  My eyes initially locked onto his, but now I’m clearly dialed in on his gigantic cock. A thick vein leads up to a bulbous head which is absolutely flush with blood. Even from across the room, I can see the creamy tip, pre-cum glistening as it’s clear he’s damn near ready to blow his load.

  And what’s on the screen, blown up super big, is even more of a load to take in.

  It’s a picture of me, or more like a freeze frame, from what appears to be while I was cleaning.

  Did he…take a screenshot and then blow it up?

  Wait a second. He’s pleasuring himself to…?

  Impossible.

  “Look what you do to me?” he groans as he strokes his rod up and down.

  I want to ask, “Me?” I need some serious confirmation that this is really happening. There’s just no way.

  Matteo is breathing hard and he pumps faster as his eyes take me in like a piece of meat.

  Part of me, a very big part, wants to get out of this uniform and sit right on that dick of his, letting him spread me open, for the first time in my life.

  And the other part of me is absolutely terrified he’d break me in half, or more, with that thing he’s packing.

  “I better go!”

  I drop to my knees, quickly tossing my things back in the bucket and scurry out the door.

  I place my back against the wall just outside the door and take short, shallow breaths in through my mouth.

  What the hell am I supposed to do now.

  Without thinking I take the couple steps back to the door and say loudly, “I won’t tell anyone.”

  I know secrecy is paramount in Matteo’s life. And surely he’ll want to keep this a secret.

  “Everyo
ne will know soon enough,” he growls loudly just before I hear the deep echo of his voice bounce off the walls inside as he’s very clearly reached climax.

  Everyone will know soon enough. What is that supposed to mean?

  I grab my things and make my way to the shower. At first I needed to clean myself up, and I still do. But now I need somewhere to hide and process all this.

  And the upstairs bathroom down the hall is the only option I’ve got.