Chapter Four
Mia had spent the day exploring his house, memorizing the layout and searching for weaknesses. She tried not to let her lack of results discourage her when she returned to her suite early in the evening. Tomorrow, she would venture onto the grounds to evaluate her odds of escape.
Shane hadn’t returned yet. Or if he had, he hadn’t made it known to her. Mia enjoyed the reprieve from him, but she didn’t have the illusion she had ever been alone today. There was always a goon hovering on the periphery of her vision, and she had identified most of the cameras in each room. There was no way to deactivate them, at least with her limited knowledge of electronics, but she had thought it would be better to know where they were.
She’d been wrong. The sheer number of cameras—and there were likely a lot more she hadn’t been able to identify—had weighed on her almost as heavily as if Shane had attached a length of chain and old-fashioned iron ball to her ankle. There was nowhere she could go without eyes on her.
Except this room, if she could believe Shane. Did she? Mia didn’t know. He didn’t seem like he had lied to her. He was a brutal man, but he seemed to be honest in his dealings with her. She didn’t know whether to laugh or be slightly soothed. Either way, she decided to believe him and at least pretend like her suite was the one smidgeon of privacy in this oasis of watchers.
A tap on her door before it opened was her only warning before the older woman in a black dress and white apron entered the room. She was about as wide as she was tall, with an unfriendly scowl on her face as she dropped the tray she held on a table with a chair near it. “Mr. O’Mara ordered you a tray and tells you he’ll be with you later.”
“Oh, goodie.” She curled her lip at the maid.
The woman narrowed her eyes. “Disrespectful little harlot. You aren’t good enough to lick his shoes, let alone grace his bed.”
Mia rolled her eyes. “He’s a bit young for you, isn’t he, Fifi?”
The older woman swelled with anger, looking a bit like a toad. “I can trace my ancestry back to Cortez.”
“That’s working out nicely for you, I see.” Mia really had no issue with the older woman, but the maid had started being bitchy. “Why don’t you take yourself elsewhere, Fifi, so I can eat?” She eyed the food doubtfully. “Wait, did you make it?”
The little woman drew herself up to what must be her most impressive height. Maybe four-ten. “I am not a cook.” She sounded outraged by the idea.
“That narrows down the chances of it being poisoned then.” Mia strolled over to the tray, lifting the salver to nod appreciatively. “You may leave, Fifi.”
“I am Selena Hernanda-Fuendo, descended from an Aztec princess and Cortez—”
“As you said. You’re still dismissed, your highness.” Mia waved her toward the door, maintaining an aloof air until the other woman exited with a slam. Then she sagged. As she sat at the chair and lifted a fork to taste the tender roasted vegetables surrounding the salmon, she replayed in her mind the encounter with the maid.
The little woman had been determined to hate and belittle her before Mia ever opened her mouth. Perhaps she’d ask Shane about Hernanda-Fuendo’s open hostility, if she was stuck here long enough to care, or be subjected to the other woman’s presence for long.
She finished her dinner alone and flipped on the television. The only thing available was a Roku box, so she had no access to current events. With a sigh of disgust, she put on an episode of “Supernatural” for background noise while chewing her lip to ribbons as she watched the clock.
Anxiety built in her as the time passed. When the digital numbers hit ten p.m., she started to hope he wouldn’t come to her tonight. Maybe his mafia business would keep him working late into the night. Maybe he’d already grown bored with her and was currently screwing two bald hookers and their hermaphrodite pimp. That thought made her giggle, and she quickly smothered the sound, as though any indication of amusement would concede a point in their war of attrition.
By ten-thirty, the tension had built inside her to the point where she could scream. It was almost a relief to have her door open, just to end the anxiousness of when or if he would come that night. That short burst of release was quick-lived, as her apprehension ratcheted up to a new level when he walked across the room to join her where she had curled up on a loveseat.
Dear god, he made her mouth water, though she hated the reaction. Fresh from the shower, his dark hair gleamed where the light touched the moist strands. He wore a black robe, slung on carelessly, and the silk molded to his still-damp body. Her heart fluttered, not entirely with fear, when he ran his fingers through her ponytail, making her scalp tingle at the tender gesture.
“I’m sorry I’m late. It was a long day.”
She remained mute, incapable of pulling off snarky right then, and not confident of her ability to appear immune or remote either. Mia swallowed thickly when he brought her hand to his mouth to kiss the palm. No, that was not about the most amazing thing she’d ever felt.
Schooling her expression into one of disdain, she glared at him as he licked her hand. “I washed after dinner, but I imagine there are leftovers if you’re still hungry.”
His lips twitched. “Baby girl, you have the smartest mouth of any woman I’ve ever had.”
The way he phrased that filled her with confusion. On the one hand, she hated to be lumped in with his other women. She wasn’t here by choice, and she wasn’t one of his eager harem. She also hated a small surge of jealousy at the idea. What was wrong with her?
“Come to bed.”
Mia shook her head, tugging her hand away and crossing her arms over her chest. She kept her angry expression in place as he towered over her. The gentle lover morphed into a resigned warrior in a matter of seconds. She could practically see the transformation, and her nerves stretched taut as the awareness of an impending battle of wills filled the air.
She had expected him to try to lift her from the loveseat, which she had pressed into with all her weight, so she actually made it easier on him when he climbed on top of her. Mia arched her body, trying to shove him away. “Get off me, you oaf.”
“Keep wiggling like that, honey, and I’ll be a happy man.” He grinned down at her, emphasizing his point by thrusting his hardening erection into the apex of her thighs.
Mia went limp for a moment, but couldn’t maintain the passive resistance when he bent his head to nuzzle her neck. She yelped and renewed her struggle to escape, not liking just how much she enjoyed the tender grazing of his teeth and lips against that sensitive spot.
She scored first contact by slamming her elbow into his solar plexus. Shane grunted and lay heavily against her for a moment, pinning her against the cushions. When he was breathing normally again, his expression took on a chill. “Why the fuck do you want me to hurt you, Mia?”
“Seems like I hurt you.”
He sighed before grasping her wrists in his hands and pulling them above her head. She struggled to dislodge him, almost succeeding in escaping once as he was pinning both wrists with one hand.
“No way.” With another grunt, he shook her lightly. It wasn’t enough to incapacitate her, but it did slow her down until he could secure her arms above her.
“You’re disgusting.” She wanted to spit in his face, but feared that might elicit a reaction that far surpassed anything he had done to her yet. It would be hard to top last night though.
“Really?” With what seemed more like luck and determination than finesse, he unzipped her jeans and stripped them down to her thighs with one hand. “You’re so disgusted by me, little Mia?”
She glared at him. “You repulse me.”
Shane tugged at her underwear, ripping the cotton from one side of her hip to allow him access. “Tell that to your pussy.” With a chortle of dark triumph, he thrust two fingers into her folds, finding little resistance.
Her eyes widened with shock when she realized she was wet—and not just a little bit, bu
t dripping with arousal. Trying to squirm away from his confident fingers only exacerbated the problem by making her slicker. She bit hard on her tongue to keep in a moan when he bent his fingers inside her to press against her g-spot. “Let go.” Mia arched her hips, hating that she liked what he was doing enough it spurred her to renew her escape attempts. “You disgusting bastard, get off me.”
Shane stood up, bringing her to her feet. He moved so quickly that she stood frozen for a second as they stared at each other, chests heaving. Her gaze darted toward the door as his moved to the bed before returning to her. Mia feinted around him and ran for the French doors. There wasn’t a chance she’d reach them, but she couldn’t just give in.
He halted her in midflight seconds later, clamping her resisting body against his as he half-dragged, half-wrestled her to the large bed. She landed against the snowy linens with a small grunt, and he was atop her a second later. Mia turned her head to the side to avoid suffocating in the plush comforter as he straddled her back, his buttocks resting near her neck.
The silk robe had come undone in their struggle and now pooled around them, barely held on by his arms. Mia whimpered when he shrugged out of it and draped it across the bed beside her very precisely. Her jeans, which had ended up tangled around one ankle, came next. Torn panties joined the pile, along with ankle socks. She felt absurdly vulnerable to be underneath his bare body in just a baggy sweatshirt and bra.
“You need to stop this nonsense, Mia.” His hand collided firmly with her buttocks.
She flinched at the sharp spank. “How dare you? I’m not a child.” Her position and the bedding muffled the words, but they still carried a strong note of outrage.
“You’re behaving like a child.” He spanked her again and again.
“I guess that makes you a pedophile then?” She tossed out the accusation when his hand changed from punishing to caressing on her butt cheek.
He laughed. “I said you were acting childishly. There is nothing about your lush body to make me think of a little girl, honey.” He cupped both of her cheeks and kneaded gently.
Mia pressed her hips forward, straining to get away—and disconcerted to note the way the position forced a pile of the bedding against her mound. As she wiggled to escape, the comforter stimulated her clit in a way that made her burn with shame, even as she pressed more firmly against the material. To escape his hands on her ass, of course.
“This could be good for both of us, baby.” His hands moved toward her thighs, his thumbs wedged between her cheeks.
She froze, shaking her head frantically. “No.”
“Mine.” He dipped his digits in a bit more and spread her wider. “Every hole is mine, Mia. Every inch of your body belongs to me. Before this is over, every thought in your head will revolve around me, and every sexual fantasy will be about me.”
“You have an enormous ego.”
He pressed against her back, and the microfleece did nothing to disguise the heat of his arousal. “It matches my cock.”
She wanted to heckle him, but she couldn’t disagree. Her experience with that…thing had demonstrated his endowment, even though she had little with which to compare. His breath caressed her puckered bud, and she shook her head more frantically, struggling again to dislodge him. “Please, Shane, not that. Not there.” How she hated begging him for anything, but she just couldn’t let him touch her there.
He hesitated for a second, as though deciding. His lips ghosted along her crevice, but didn’t venture inside as his mouth moved lower. It was almost a relief to feel his tongue against her perineum before it ventured lower.
Mia froze when he licked her slowly, the tip of his tongue barely exploring her slippery depths. She wanted to beseech him to stop, but a darker part of her wanted to beg him to go faster. Settling for clutching the blanket in her fists, she stuffed her mouth with the pillow and tried to remain stiff and unyielding.
God, he was good at this. His coaxing, teasing approach was difficult to ignore. He swept through every millimeter of her folds, tasting her essence and testing her most responsive areas. Much as she tried to remain motionless and aloof, she couldn’t help squirming against the mattress whenever he hit a particularly sensitive spot.
She was so caught up in resisting that she didn’t realize how close she was to giving in. Suddenly, he pressed the broad part of his tongue firmly against her swollen clitoris, making her cry out around the pillow as she climaxed. Her pussy was slick with her release and his saliva as she arched against the bedding while riding the wave of her pleasure.
Mia didn’t know if she hated him or herself more in the moment following her passionate surrender. She was too drained to fight him when he climbed off her to turn her around. All she could muster was a glare and passive resistance when he removed her shirt and bra.
They were naked before each other, but it was more than that. She was raw and exposed, ravaged by his tongue, plundered by his experience, and betrayed by her own weak flesh. He had taken her, but she had let him. Tremors of release were still making her shake, and her core throbbed with want for more. Tears blurred her eyes, and she turned her head when he laid down on her to kiss her.
Shane nuzzled her cheek. “Don’t cry, Mia. Didn’t you like that?”
She stiffened when he licked a teardrop from her cheek. “You know I did,” she said hollowly, feeling dead inside. No, wishing she could be numb instead of enduring the raging ache of desire tempered with the torrent of self-loathing. Right then, she was the object of all her hatred, because she had surrendered.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m ashamed.” She turned to look at him, her blue eyes clashing with green. “I hate that you conquered me. I don’t want you.”
“Your body does.”
She rolled her eyes. “My body would be happy if I never worked out again and ate ice cream all day, but the idea of doing so is abhorrent to my mind.”
“I get it.” He cupped a breast, lazily thumbing her nipple. “You don’t like that your sexual needs can overwhelm your intellect.”
She sighed, not entirely sure if it was from annoyance or pleasure at the way he touched her. “It’s more than that. Sex is primal and basic. I hate you, but I hate my own weakness more.”
“Hate is the flipside of love, they say.” He grinned before brushing his lips against hers, trying to coax her to respond.
“That’s bullshit. Apathy is the flipside of love. Hatred and love are more intimately entwined than opposite each other.” She sneered at him. “But don’t try to pretend like you love me or something, O’Mara.”
He snorted. “As if. The truth is I’m completely fucking obsessed with you. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I wanted nothing more than to bury my cock inside your cunt and fuck you for hours.”
She shivered, allowing only her disgust to show and praying she hid her darker, more shaming response to his words. “Why me?”
He lifted a shoulder. “How the fuck should I know?” Shane scowled. “Do you think I like this weakness either, Mia?”
She snorted. “Yeah, you’re the one in the vulnerable position.”
His expression darkened. “When you won’t leave my thoughts for more than five minutes, it makes me weak. I can have any woman I want, so it humbled me to plot and scheme to have you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand why you didn’t just ask me out on a date?”
He arched a brow as his thumb pressed against her nipple almost to the point of pain. “Would you have said yes?” At her mutinous expression, he smiled. “As soon as Arvin Lovelle enlightened me to your family history and hatred of the mafia, I knew you would run away screaming if I tried a traditional approach.” He pressed firmly against her nipple again.
“You don’t understand the level of my obsession.” His free hand cupped her chin, forcing her to stare deep into his disturbing gaze. “A date wasn’t going to cut it. Even an all-night fuck session would barely take the edge off. I h
ave to own you completely, to know you’re mine.” He squeezed her chin painfully. “You’re where I need you to be.”
His mouth was hard and angry when he pressed it to hers. Mia bit his tongue as it tried to invade her mouth, and he retaliated by drawing her lower lip between his teeth to bite until she squealed. Their lips met in a battle of clashing tongues and clacking teeth. She didn’t even know exactly what she was fighting for, but she was compelled to resist.
They tore and bit each other, fingernails digging into flesh. She raked her nails across his nipple and grinned savagely against his mouth when he hissed with pain. He retaliated by pinching her taut peak, and his mouth swallowed her scream. Even she couldn’t tell if it was a scream of pain, outrage, or animal lust.
They fought and strained until she was underneath him, and Mia found her will to resist sapped slightly when he settled between her thighs. She wanted to pretend like she didn’t, but she knew she parted her legs to give him freer access. All the moisture between her legs eased his passing, and she was both angry and amazed by just how much fluid she had produced.
“Your cunt is sopping wet.” Shane broke the kiss as he surged inside her in one sure thrust, burying his length to the hilt. Streaks of blood marred his chin and lips, but she had no idea whose it was. “Do you like it rough, baby?”
“What I’d like is for you to drop dead.” She cried out as he withdrew and thrust into her again with the same intensity. Tenderness from last night’s penetration caused her to wince, but he didn’t appear to notice. His attention seemed solely focused on where their bodies had fused together as he pistoned in and out of her rapidly.
Mia tried to shove him away, even as her legs wrapped around his hips to draw him in deeper. “I don’t want this,” she shouted as her muscles tightened and her stomach warmed with the approaching orgasm.
MAFIA: Dark Romance Collection Page 5