Chained: A Dark Vampire Romance (Midnight Mafia Book 1)

by Zara Novak

  “My powers can be used for many things,” he said, answering the questions in my head. He held both of his arms out to the side and his suit jacket silently slid off his body and draped over the back of the chair where I had been punished. He kept his eyes on me as his shirt unbuttoned itself. His belt and trousers also opened, removing themselves effortlessly until he was just in his underwear.

  I knew that this man was a psychopath. A violent killer who I should very much be afraid of. Vincent Cartello’s name was known far and wide across America, his reputation preceding his vast empire. Though he was a well-known criminal, and reputed to be a mastermind in his underworld, Vincent had also become something of a superstar in the eyes of many. His careful criminal enterprise made it almost impossible for the feds to prove Vincent guilty and lock him away, and it also made many people forget just how dangerous he was.

  Legally he was squeaky clean, but it just so happened I was one of the few people that could actually get him in trouble. Vincent was a powerful and terrifying psychopath with the ability to make people disappear and get things done, but his real power came with his charisma and presence.

  He was supposedly in his thirties, which made him one of the youngest mob bosses to ever live, and his beguiling looks had amassed a crowd of followers and fans all wanting to be the lucky woman on the end of his arm. His influence and looks got him into the most exclusive rungs of society. It wasn’t unusual to see him on the cover of E magazine.

  Fucking crazy, right?

  But here I was looking at the madman, and I understood it. He was standing before me in nothing other than a pair of tight black boxer-briefs, and I was utterly mesmerized by this perfect specimen of a human man. If I had no idea who he was I would have guessed male fitness model first, psychotic mob boss second and vampire last.

  My eyes drew over him, taking in his broad shoulders, square pecs, washboard abs and muscled hips. His arms and legs bulged with muscle, his pale skin glistening slightly from the steam of the bath. It wasn’t his power mesmerizing me now, it was my own attraction to him.

  Whether I wanted to admit that to myself or not.

  “What now?” I said, wondering what was in store for us next. My voice broke as I said the words, making me sound as terrified as I was. His red eyes flashed with sternness and I realized my mistake. Hastily I rephrased the question. “What now, master?”

  “We bath. You will shave yourself, slave. Your pussy needs to be smooth for me. I will join you. The hot water is a small reward for your earlier assistance. This is how the relationship works. Help me, and I help you. Betray me, and you get punished. Get in the water.”

  “Yes, master,” I said.

  I turned and walked over to the tub, lifting my leg as I climbed over the steep edge. The waters were hot and inviting on the other side. I swung my other leg over and sank into the hot water, even relaxing a little as I submerged to my shoulders. The tub was deep in the middle, with a shallow shelf for sitting around the edge. I looked over my shoulder and saw Vincent standing just behind me. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and pushed them down his thighs.

  Oh my fucking god.

  His cock sprang out, like a third arm that had been hidden between his powerful thighs. I knew I was staring, but I couldn’t look anywhere else even if I wanted to. An angel could come down from the heavens with a choir of comrades and I wouldn’t have noticed. Vincent walked towards the tub and slid in beside me, the water barely shifting under his ghostlike movements.

  As his huge cock disappeared under the foamy water, I realized I had been staring and quickly looked at some tiles on the wall ahead of me. I could swear I saw the slightest of smirks on Vincent’s lips. I had no idea what was wrong with me, this man was keeping me captor and was going to kill me if I didn’t go along with his sick and twisted plans, and I was drooling over him like a stupid teenage girl.

  But in a way, that’s all you are, remember?

  My own thoughts took me by surprise, but in a way, I supposed it was right. Growing up I was never the ‘prettiest’ of girls. I was always a little bit larger than my classmates and never caught attention from boys like other girls did.

  Puberty was a little gracious to me and gave me a womanlier figure, but by that point I was so entrenched with my studies that I didn’t have time to court anyone. My weekends were devoted to church, religious study, family, and helping the community. My parents were both prominent figures in the local church and expected me to follow in their image.

  As a chubby and insecure girl, the only-child of slightly overbearing religious parents, I suppose you could say I became a bit of a wet blanket. I was a good girl. I always did as I was told, I never broke the mold, even if I wanted to.

  Boy, sometimes I wanted to.

  Everyone has urges growing up, right? It’s only natural to want to indulge those urges. A few boys had taken notice of me by the time I was in college, but I wasn’t about to throw my virginity to the first asshole frat wannabe that looked my way.

  My parents had picked out one boy in the church for me to date. He was sweet, but, unbeknownst to them, obviously gay.

  So I had somehow become a girl in her mid-twenties that had never been touched. No kissing, no fucking, no nothing. I had never even seen a man naked before this moment, and I had to wonder if all cocks were this big.

  The water rippled and I looked up to see Vincent stifling silent laughter. I asked him anyway, but I knew that he must have been reading my thoughts again.

  “What’s funny, master?” I said with a cold edge in my voice. As I said the question his amusement faded. Hard red eyes dissected me. I wanted to run, and I also wanted this dark predator to stalk silently through the waters, moving for me like a crocodile towards an unsuspecting gazelle.

  “The thoughts of stupid Christian virgins,” he said. “Your memories are quite the ride. I was just exploring the shallow puddle of your sin.”

  “My what?” I asked.

  He lifted his hand from the water as if to answer the question, tensing his fingers around the air. A memory then hit me like a freight train, taking me out of the bathroom and putting me back in my apartment, almost a year earlier when I had first moved into it.

  I was standing in the kitchen looking over the back of the couch in the lounge. My captor was standing next to me.

  “What is this?” I asked, no idea what was going on or how we were here.

  “A memory. I wanted to show you this one,” he said. “It’s particularly… good.”

  I then heard a soft grunting and I saw myself on the couch, bent over with my skirt hitched up and my panties around my ankles. My legs were spread wide, there was a bottle of lube on the coffee table and I was fucking myself hard with a dildo that had arrived in the post only minutes before.

  Shame filled me to my core, I tried to turn but Vincent snapped his fingers, freezing the spectating version of myself.

  “No, watch,” he said. “It’s hot. You wouldn’t want to miss this. It’s a shame. A girl so desperately driven she has to fuck herself stupid. What did you do after this?”

  “I prayed for forgiveness,” I said. I had felt horribly bad after my little episode.

  “You wanted to get rid of your toys, didn’t you? Shame drove you to throw them in the trash.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t. I hid them.”

  “Only to break them out in moments of absolute desperation.”

  The memory broke as soon as it had started, shattering away in clouds of swirling color. I was back in the bath with Vincent again, beyond mortified.

  “Why did you make me watch that? Is this my punishment? Humiliate me until I feel three inches tall?”

  “This is not to humiliate you,” he said calmly. “I’m just getting to know you, to understand you. You are a red-blooded woman with the same desires as everyone else, bubbling with frustration from trying to keep these human feelings hidden. You could have succumbed to your shame, you could
have never touched yourself again and been a good girl, but you didn’t. You kept misbehaving, didn’t you?”

  Something in his voice told me he wasn’t making fun of me. For some reason I found myself answering his questions.

  “Yes.” My words came with trepidation, and I was unable to hold his eye for more than a few seconds, but I answered, nonetheless. Although the water was warm and comforting, I felt like I was being dissected on a cold metal table. “Though only when I absolutely had to.”

  “How often?” he asked.

  “At first… once a month.”

  “But it wasn’t enough,” he said. “You needed more. Before long.”

  “Every week. Every night.” I let out an exasperated sigh. “I couldn’t help myself. I worked all day and then I went home to my empty apartment. Do you know how lonely it was? I just wanted to be touched.”

  “A naughty girl,” he said, his lips twisting as his voice purred.

  I once again felt that unbridled tide of shame. He was right, I couldn’t pretend I had been indulging overwhelming urges when I absolutely had to, before long I was spending entire weekends with fingers on my clit and my legs in the air.

  I knew it was wrong, and I knew I was being bad.

  But I just couldn’t help myself.

  The vampire moved forward through the water, his body barely cutting the surface as he came closer to me. I looked up at him, my breath catching in my chest, and swallowed.

  “What?”

  “Master,” he prompted, reminding me of our earlier agreement.

  “What, master?” I said, grateful he hadn’t punished me for the error. His hand brushed through my hair, down my right temple and over my cheek. He hooked his finger under my chin and lifted it up, so my gaze met his.

  “I’m just getting to know you,” he said. “My fertile little slave girl. A naughty little virgin. You like it. You want it. You’ve spent your whole life waiting for it. I see who you are now, slave.”

  I didn’t have anything to say. He was right, and I was still terrified of him. My head was a swirling cauldron of conflicting emotions and feelings. I was attracted to him, I wanted him. I was afraid of him, I wanted to get away from him.

  I was so confused that I didn’t know what to do.

  He came forward and kissed me, his lips were soft and full, our mouths melting together as his tongue pushed forward. His hands slipped down my front and cupped my breasts, his fingers and thumbs coming together to roll the nipples and pinch them between his pads. Electricity jolted through me, and I couldn’t hold back the smile I felt on my lips.

  The kiss deepened and he squeezed my nipples tighter. I clenched at how good it felt. I wanted him so fucking badly. My hands were currently under the water and at my sides. I wanted to reach forward and touch him, to feel his body, but I was so afraid.

  “Do it,” he said, whispering the words as his lips left mine and moved down to my neck. I gasped at how good it felt and brought my hands up and out of the water, resting them on the tops of his shoulders. He felt so warm and solid underneath my hands.

  I let my fingertips trace down his body slowly, feeling the line of his collarbone as I worked my hands down the central line of his pecs. My hands moved back underwater as I went further down his body. My thumbs bumped over his abs, feeling the grooves and the firm mounds. I stopped just short of the space between his legs. Looking down I could see the huge shape in the water, just begging to be touched. What would it feel like? Was it hard?

  “Touch slave,” he said, giving me the permission I so curiously wanted. I wrapped my hands around his length, taking his solid cock in my grasp and wrapping my fingers around his veiny shaft. It was like hot marble in my hands. I pumped my hand up and down, feeling the skin as I went from base to the tip of the fat head.

  I was so fucking horny for him.

  My fear and trepidation melted away, and a moment of confidence overcame me. I pumped faster, one hand stroking his shaft while the palm of my other hand rolled over his cock’s fat head. I moved my hand off his shaft and went to feel his balls, cupping them in my palm and then tickling them with my fingers.

  It felt so good.

  What would he feel like inside me?

  Suddenly he pulled his lips away from my throat, an area I had only just considered was dangerous for a vampire to be near, and he looked at me with his eyes flush and black. His gaze burned with a primal ferocity, raging with a lust that gave the promise of depravity and violence. I saw his incisors were long and pointed.

  He wanted to feed from me.

  “Back,” he said. I understood the command at once. I pulled my hands away from his body and moved back through the water, leaving a couple of feet between us.

  “Are you okay, master?” I asked, not forgetting the title this time. My heart was beating in my chest from our little physical foray. I hated how fucking horny I was.

  “Too close,” he said. “The vampire in me, it wants nothing more to drink from your delicious fucking throat. Your hands, your eager little hands, they are good at exploring. Lust can bring about the desire to feed.”

  I looked down through the water at my shaking hands, wondering if we were talking about the same person. I was a clumsy fat girl with no experience, touching up a guy for the first time and almost coming myself just from excitement alone. How could my hands have got him worked up?

  “I was just feeling, I’m sorry. Master.”

  He looked at me in a way that I couldn’t fully decipher. There was the rage of his thirst, the black depths of his lust, and something else that eluded me. Maybe intrigue, or maybe even fear.

  Did something about me scare him?

  After a moment the look dissipated and he smiled that dark smile again. “Behind you, on the side,” he said, nodding with his head to a tray that was behind me. “Sit there and shave yourself for me. You will always be bare for me. Your pussy belongs to me now.”

  I moved through the water and sat on the side as he ordered. On the tray there was some shaving balm and a razor. I sat with my legs closed. He moved across the tub and sat on the opposite side, spreading his arms out on the edge as he came to rest.

  He was going to watch.

  “Now, sir?” I stammered.

  “Yes, slave,” he said. “Shave your cunt.”

  I took a deep breath and spread my legs, baring myself to him completely. His bright red eyes wandered down my body, examining every last nook and cranny. My stomach trembled as I breathed out my nerves. No one had ever looked at me like this before. I had to get this over with quickly before he found all the things he didn’t like about me.

  “Oh, take your time,” he said, obviously having read my thoughts again.

  “Sir?”

  “You’re worried I’m picking apart your body in my mind. That is not the case at all. I could look at this fine specimen for an entire night and not find anything wrong with it. It’s all I can do to stop myself from claiming you now.”

  As compliments went it was both sweet and terrifying. I picked up the balm, smoothed it over myself and dipped the razor in the water. In a few minutes time I had finished, stripping the last hairs away from my pussy until there was only smooth skin left. During that entire time the Don didn’t take his eyes off me. Those crimson reds swirled with a deep and intense lust. I felt like a deer before a chained lion.

  When I was finally done, I set the razor down and smoothed my hand over the area to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. I had never shaved myself down there before, and I was surprised at how smooth I felt now that I was shaved.

  It felt good.

  “All done slave?” Vincent asked from the opposite side of the tub.

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  “Good. Touch yourself. Show me how you like it. Play with your pussy and yourself. Show me how you come.”

  My hand was still on my pussy, the pad of my middle finger over my swollen clit. This entire ordeal had made me desperate for release, as
crazy as it had all been. For a moment I hesitated, but then I found myself following his orders. I let the pad of my finger trace delicate circles over my clit while I teased my slit with my other hand.

  At first, I was nervous. His raging red eyes never left me for a second. For some reason I found myself wondering if I was doing things right, even though he had ordered me to do what I wanted.

  He was so in my head he had me doubting even myself.

  I hooked my middle finger through my slit and gently rubbed the pad against my walls, while pushing the flat of my thumb against my bud. I fucked my pussy with my right hand and used the other to play with my tits.

  “Open wide,” he ordered. “I want to see it all.”

  I had slowly closed my legs to protect what little modesty I had left, but obviously he had seen through my efforts. I opened my legs wide again, catching his eye as I did so. His teeth were razor sharp points in his mouth. One of his hands was now under the water, his arm moving while he watched me.

  He was playing with himself too.

  Fuck. Do I actually turn him on?

  The thought alone turned me on, even if it wasn’t true. The idea that a man this beautiful could even be interested in me, it gave me a strange confidence, even if he was a fucking violent psychopath.

  Psychopath or not, I could be trapped in this situation with a man that didn’t look like every woman’s wet dream. Strange silver lining maybe.

  It wasn’t long before I found myself hurtling towards the edge of a blinding orgasm. My breath had grown fast and shallow. My nipples were like diamonds and I was about ready to scream I was so horny. I’d never masturbated with my pussy feeling like this, and it made everything feel so better.

  It made me feel naughty.

  Shallow squeaks began to escape my mouth as I approached climax. I was only seconds away when he spoke again.

  “Stop,” he said, his voice ringing out across the tiled room. I didn’t take my hands off my body, but I did freeze. I looked up and saw him.

  “Master?”

  “Take your hands off your body.” I did. He moved through the water, stopping just one foot shy of me. “You don’t get release that easily.”