His: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Citrione Crime Family)

by Penelope Bloom

  “No,” I say. “Take off your blouse first, then your skirt, then your panties. Slowly.”

  Her hands freeze, moving back up toward her blouse. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly and I can practically see her heart thrumming from here. Good. She knows how to follow directions. My cock pulses again. She slides her arms out of the top and pulls it down. Her heavy breasts pillow out of the top of her bra and I can see the faint outline of her hard nipples pressing against the white cotton. It takes everything in me not to pull her to me right then, take her tits in my mouth and finger-fuck her until she screams. But that’s not how I want this to play out. So I wait, watching with my arms folded and a smirk I can’t seem to wipe from my face.

  She unzips the skirt next, shaking her hips as it slides free in a way that drives me crazy. When the tight skirt slides from her hips, it rolls her white cotton panties down just enough that I can see the crease of skin between her thigh and her pussy. Jesus. I’ve been with some beautiful fuckin’ women before, but this girl. Aubriella. God damn. She’s something else. Something special. I actually feel a distant pang of guilt for being such a prick to her. The fuck? Since when do I give a shit about some girl’s feelings? And since when do I let my cock come before business? I should be dragging her body into a closet right about now and cleaning the room of evidence.

  My hungry eyes cut off any other thoughts of doubt. I follow the curves of her body from the swell of her tits to the lines of her hips and the irresistible way her long legs lead to the triangle of her panties. She hooks her finger in the waistband of her panties like she’s about to pull them down.

  “No,” I say. “Bra first.”

  She bites her lip like she likes it. She fuckin’ likes it. I palm my hard cock, sucking in a deep breath with the effort of restraining myself. She’s dirty in all the right ways and it’s driving me up the fuckin’ wall. She looks like the good girl type, the kind I’m usually not interested in because they’re too timid to fuck the way I like. She’s got the big eyes, the innocent face, and the body language that screams she’s nervous as hell. And yet I keep seeing a flash of something in her eyes, like she’s absolutely loving every second of this, even if she’s terrified. And the way she mouthed off to me tells me she’s no pushover.

  Maria is getting stood the fuck up tonight. That’s for sure.

  The bra slips free of her heavy breasts and they bounce once. Her nipples are completely erect and begging to be sucked. Not yet. I take her in again with my eyes, even though it feels like my cock is going to fucking burst through my pants any second. She looks at me now, as if for permission, one finger on the waistband of her panties. Good fuckin’ girl.

  Instead of dragging it out like I planned, I move forward, pinning her to the wall. My cock presses against her bare belly through my pants and I kiss her neck hard, sucking so that she’ll have to remember what the fuck she did every time she looks in the mirror for a week. I’m surprised to find how much I’m turned on by marking her, claiming her. My hand cups her breast, circling the hard point of her nipple as I kiss the warmth of her neck. She moans, pressing herself harder against me, hands reaching to explore my body. Normally, I would stop her. She cums when I fuckin’ say so. She touches me when I fuckin’ say so. But right now? Fuck. I just want to rut into her like an animal.

  I run my hand down her stomach and feel her pussy through her thin, cotton panties. I slide my fingers down, feeling her slit and teasing her clit through the fabric. She squirms, moaning again. My fingers go farther. She’s absolutely soaked and her pussy is hot to the touch. I tug at her panties and rip them free. I’m about to undo my own pants when her hands reach out to do it for me. I kiss her harder, palming her tit again and bending to suck at her nipple. She stifles a moan.

  Once my cock springs free, I lift her by the thighs so that her legs spread around me. I line myself up with her and use my hand to spread her slickness. Then I thrust, deep. I don’t wait. I don’t ease myself in so it doesn’t hurt. None of that pussy shit. I ram myself into her to the hilt—one swift movement. She cries out with a mixture of pain and pleasure. I grip her around the waist while her shoulderblades press to the wall. I use her like a fuck toy, slamming myself into her over and over by pulling her hips to me.

  6

  Aubriella

  My back scrapes against the rough wall and my ears fill with the sound of our bodies slapping together. My mind spins. I’ve never done this before—never done anything close to this. He’s a stranger. I don’t just fuck strangers. I don’t even fuck on the first or the second date for Christ’s sake. He pulls my thighs harder into himself and presses his cock so deep inside me that I gasp, clawing at the back of his neck.

  “You like that?” he grunts, smirking at me.

  All I can do is let out a soft moan into his ear. It feels good. So fucking good. Not just his cock or the way his stubble brushes against my shoulder and neck, but letting go for once. I spend so much time wound tight, ready to snap at the smallest thing, and now…

  I bite my lip, digging my fingers into his broad back and pushing myself against him. He moves into me with animalistic speed and power. I’m overwhelmed by his strength and his hunger for me as he drives into me again and again, his beautiful face drawn with pleasure, full lips slightly parted. I shamelessly grind myself back against him, crying out like I don’t care who hears. It’s so not like me that I feel like I’m out of my body, stepping into someone else’s life.

  “You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growls.

  His pace increases as he ruts into me, grunting with each thrust until I feel a rush of warmth in my core. I feel myself squeeze against him as a climax rocks through me, too. He still pumps himself into me as the aftershocks fade. I cling to him, fingers digging into his smooth skin. My legs are still wrapped around him and his cock is still pulsing within me. Once he lets me go and slides free from me, I suddenly feel wrong.

  It’s like a spell has been broken. His warm cum runs down the inside of my thigh, seeping from my pussy.

  Holy shit.

  I’m a slut. A whore. An idiot. This guy is a fucking mobster or a criminal, and I just let him fuck me? Shit, I let him cum in me. I’m going to have to get a morning after pill on my way home…God. I knew I was fucked up, but I didn’t know it got this bad. Suddenly I can’t get my scattered clothes back on fast enough.

  “I have to go,” I say, unable to meet his gaze. I hear his belt jingle as he pulls his pants back up.

  “You think you can just walk out of here after what you saw?”

  I’m surprised to feel hot tears running down my cheeks. They come without warning, and I wipe them away, almost as if I’m not sure where they came from. “I’m leaving. If you’re going to kill me, you had better hurry.”

  “Wait,” he says. “There’s another option.”

  He pauses, moving slowly toward the wall where he leans and crosses his arms. I make the mistake of meeting his dark gaze and feel a fresh wave of heat spread through my body. I know he’s wrong for me in every single bit of my brain, and it’s frustrating as hell that he makes me feel like this. How can my body and my mind be on such completely different wavelengths? I might scream in frustration if I wasn’t equally afraid that he was going to kill me.

  Just stay calm, Aubriella. You can talk your way out of this. “What’s the alternative?”

  “You come with me.”

  Tendrils of panic threaten to take me over. There’s a charm to his face, but it’s only thinly masking the real threat of danger behind it. He wouldn’t really hurt me, right? What kind of man could have sex like that and then kill? The answer comes too easily. Only a man who lives on the fringes of what’s acceptable could fuck like that, exactly the kind of man who could kill.

  I shake my head. “Not possible. I can’t just walk away from my life.”

  “You realize this isn’t a fuckin’ negotiation, right?”

  I try my best not to let the fear I feel show throu
gh. “You can’t do anything to me here.” I motion to the ceiling, toward the muffled sounds of thousands of fans cheering. Someone could come through here any minute. They’d hear if I scream. How do you think you could get me out of here without anyone knowing?” I take a step back, toward the door.

  In an instant, he’s pinning me to the wall until his face is only inches from mine. Instead of threat in his face, I see the fire of lust again. Despite everything, I feel a faint rush of electricity pass through me. Why can’t I feel this way about a fucking accountant or some cubicle worker? He smiles and I see the deep lines of dimples crease his cheeks. Of course. He has dimples, too. The slightly boyish charm on his rugged and hard face is too much. I bite my lip, unable to look away from his piercing stare.

  “Tell you what,” he says, voice quiet now. His hot breath brushes my skin, giving me chills. He smells good. Really good, like expensive clothes with an underlying musky scent that is raw and all man. “I’ll pretend you didn’t just threaten to scream. I’ll even pretend you were talking to me the way I deserve to be talked to. With respect. And I’ll make you an offer I should not make you.”

  I nod, barely able to speak with him so close. He’s like a sex god. Just being near him heats my core and makes my entire body feel like it’s on fire and pulsing with electricity at the same time. It’s a physical struggle not to reach for him.

  “I’ll let you walk,” he stops me from speaking by holding a finger to my lips. He drags it slowly down, following it with his eyes as he pulls my bottom lip down and steals a kiss, his tongue warm and wet in my mouth.

  I melt into him against my will. This kiss isn’t like the sex. It’s tender. Almost loving, like I expect a husband would kiss his wife after a long time apart. It makes all kinds of ridiculous images burst in my mind; of weddings, vacations, and a small house in the suburbs with little children running around. But that life isn’t for me, and he is absolutely not the one to give it to me. He might as well have trouble tattooed on his forehead.

  He pulls back. “I let you walk, but I get to take you out to dinner. Whenever I want.”

  My stomach turns. “What, so you want me to pay for my life by being your personal call-girl?” Tears threaten to come again, but I hold them back. I’m about to tell him that I’m not some slut for him to use whenever the urge hits him, but how would that sound? How would it sound after I just got done letting him fuck me only a few minutes after meeting him? My cheeks burn with shame.

  He grimaces a little at that. “I’m really going to have to teach you not to fuckin’ back-talk me.” There’s a hint of a grin in his features, a small glimmer of a promise that he will enjoy fulfilling the threat if he has to.

  A vivid image pops into my mind of my naked body and him spanking my ass hard enough to leave a mark invades my thoughts. I push it down. Since when do I like that? I’ve never been turned on by being degraded or submitting before…I’ve also never met a man so commanding and sure of himself.

  “Sorry,” I say quietly.

  He breathes in deep and lets it out in a sigh, almost as if my words gave him some kind of pleasure. The way he is looking down at me makes me blush all over again. I look away, not wanting him to see what a mess I am, but he takes my chin with his calloused finger and tilts my face up until I’m looking into his eyes. “Doll, whether you like it or not, you just got yourself real fuckin’ tangled in my life, in more ways than one. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven.”

  A few dozen questions bounce around in my head, but I have to push them all down. He probably just wants to see me again so he can make sure I’m not talking about what I saw. He’ll probably have me followed on my way home. What did I get myself into?

  I do the only thing I can do and nod my head.

  “Good girl,” he says, kissing me again. This time it’s hard as he crushes his mouth against mine and pins me to the wall. He slides his hand up my blouse and cups my breast, then pulls back abruptly. He has the nerve to smirk knowingly at me, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

  “You had better get back out there. It’s almost halftime.”

  Shit. I don’t even know what the score is, and I’m probably supposed to be on the air any minute now. Eric is probably flipping his shit and here I am with a strangers cum still inside me and dripping down my thigh. He must see the panic in my eyes because he reaches out with both hands and pulls me toward him with surprising tenderness. He kneels slightly until our eyes are level. His eyebrows pull down and he moves his head from side to side, getting a look at me. He bites his lip in concentration, looking ridiculously sexy while he does, then reaches to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind my ear. He runs his hand over my top to smooth out the wrinkles and spends an extra few seconds smoothing the “wrinkles” in the back of my skirt.

  “There. Even more gorgeous,” he says with a grin.

  7

  Vince

  After the door closes behind her I lean against the wall and run my hands through my hair. Hol-ee shit. Not only did I just let the witness to a fuckin’ crime that could bring the fuzz down on the entire Citrione family go, but I went and got myself some of the most ridiculously hot ass I’ve ever seen. Fuck. This is going to be an absolute mess.

  I palm my cell and dial Frankie. “It’s me,” I say when he picks up. “What’s the score?”

  “Fourteen to seven,” he says. “Giants are up.”

  I grit my teeth. I can’t get into specifics over the phone, so I’m forced to talk in code. “What about the kicker?” It’s the current code for a player we’re pushing to flop. Ronnie is supposed to drop almost everything thrown his way to make sure the bets our clients placed fall through as expected.

  “Looks like he has cold feet.”

  I hang up the phone.

  Shit. That means Ronnie hasn’t been flopping for us. I don’t particularly enjoy having to make examples of people, but I also don’t like when people cross me. I can’t afford to look weak. No biggie, Vince. You handle this shit all the time. I have, but I’ve also never let someone who shouldn’t have witnessed a deal go down walk away. If she talks about what she saw and then Ronnie just happens to get hurt shortly after? Yeah. Her story is going to look a whole lot more credible. This would have been a lot simpler if Ronnie had just behaved.

  I ball my fist and punch the drywall, sending a puff of plaster dust up and shredding the already raw skin on my knuckles. “Fuck!” I yell, barely feeling the burning explosion of pain in my hand. My cock is still wet from her pussy and I’m thinking about whether or not I’ll have to have her killed. I can’t do it though. That’s what pisses me off more than anything. I’d normally just do what was best for business, even if it meant getting some blood on my hands. Somehow she got so far under my skin that I’m about to start putting my neck on the line for her? I can’t tell if it’s my cock doing the thinking or something else, but I know with a gut-freezing certainty that this girl is going to get me into a lot of trouble.

  I pull out my cell and punch in Jimmy’s number.

  He picks up on the first ring. “What do you need, boss?”

  “I need a tail on a girl. Aubriella Lightner,” I say with a little uncertainty. “At least that’s what her name-tag said.”

  “Anything else?”

  I’ve always liked Jimmy. He doesn’t waste time with small talk or ask unimportant questions. You give him a job, and if it can be done, he does it. If only all my men were like that. “Yeah. One other thing. This is a dry tail. Do you understand?”

  There’s a pause. Of course he understands. He’s just making sure he doesn’t say anything stupid over the phone. “Yeah. Got it boss.”

  I hang up the phone. A dry tail means the standing order to kill any tail who is about to reveal sensitive information is not in play. It’s usually only reserved for dangerous targets like police or full-blooded, made members of a familia. He’s probably wondering who the hell this girl is. Welcome to the club, Jimmy.


  8

  Aubriella

  I wait way too long in line at the bakery because they are out of everything bagels and the woman at the front of the line is taking out her whole week on the poor girl who had to break the news to her.

  “It’s only nine AM,” says the woman. She pronounces the last as ‘aaayh eeehm’, four syllables. She’s standing with her feet as wide as a linebacker, like she doesn’t plan to give up her tirade any time soon.

  “Yes ma'am,” says the girl behind the counter. “We had a catering order come in from the bank across the street and we were barely able to fill it, so we’re currently restocking.”

  The woman throws up her hands, looking at the rest of us in line as if we’re equally outraged and will join her. “So then it’s just screw you to the rest of us? Who cares if anyone else gets what they want for the rest of the day?”

  “We will have more made in about thirty minutes. They are already in the oven. I could have the kitchen make you something for now free of charge and we’ll get you a bagel as soon as they are ready.”

  The woman slams a palm down on the counter dramatically. “Are you even listening? I don’t want some scraps from the kitchen, I want—”