Hitman's Promise: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

by Naomi West

  I grin, impossibly satisfied with myself. “Now can I please get some studying done without further distraction?”

  He nips at my neck and stands me up, spanking me as I walk back over to my side of the desk. But when I sit down, he reaches under the table and lifts my feet so that they lay over his lap. Like he can’t stand to not touch me. Even after we’ve both just been so thoroughly satisfied.

  He scrolls through his phone and wraps one hand around my ankle. I sigh contentedly as I open my book and dive into studying.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Alessia

  3 weeks later

  Somewhere my phone won’t stop playing the funeral march and it drags me out of sleep. I roll over and shade my eyes from the late afternoon sun that slants in between the living room curtains. I’m tangled up in Dare. His legs are over mine and my head rests on his shoulder, our fingers lacing at my waist.

  We must have fallen asleep after we had sex. I had a rare free Saturday afternoon and we spent it by pretending to watch a movie while Dare fucked me into the couch.

  “Mmmmm,” he groans at the annoying ringtone of my phone as I search the couch cushions.

  My stomach is already in knots because only one person has that funeral march ringtone. My father. Without opening his eyes, Dare reaches under himself and shoves the phone into my hands, burrowing his face into the pillow.

  My stomach drops even further as I realize that he’s Facetiming me. Not a good time to video chat with your dad when you’re butt ass naked wrapped in the arms of your equally naked bodyguard. Plus, I’m pretty sure I have beard burn just about everywhere. I reject the call and quickly call back on a regular audio line.

  “Hi, Dad,” I say when he answers and Dare goes stiff next to me. He sits up, rubbing his eyes.

  “I wanted to Facetime,” my father says. Most people think his deep voice is menacing. It is the last sound countless people have heard before they were murdered. But to me, it’s just annoying. It’s the sound I hear before more restrictions are put on my life.

  “It’s not a good time to video chat,” I say and Dare lets out a mirthless, soundless grunt beside me. “I just got out of the shower.”

  My father makes a sound and I can tell he doesn’t believe me. Luckily, he’s used to me pulling away from him for no particular reason. I’ve been doing it since I was about twelve years old.

  “How’s school?” he asks. As if he cares at all.

  “Fine.”

  “And your arrangement with Guinne? How’s that going?”

  “Fine.” My heart skips a beat but I keep the anxiety out of my voice.

  “Oh? I expected you to be as upset about it as you were when you left for school. Has something changed?”

  “No, Dad. I’ve just accepted it, okay?”

  “So, he’s treating you well?”

  “Yes. He’s treating me well.” My breath catches as Dare looks me in the eye. Something crosses his expression but I can’t quite tell what it is.

  Dad is silent for a moment and I start to get uncomfortable.

  “Have you heard from your brothers lately?”

  I’m surprised because he never talks about Dante and Fabi to me. Not since they cut him out of their lives.

  “Yes,” I say hesitatingly

  “How often?” he asks.

  “I talk to them all the time, Dad.” Which is true. One or the other calls me every few days wanting to check in with me, especially since this whole threat of the Greco’s has been hanging over my head.

  My father sighs and I can tell he’s losing patience with dancing around whatever he really wants to ask me. “Are they in the game, Alessia?”

  “What?” I ask, totally stunned. “Are you honestly asking me if they’re thugging again?”

  My dad sighs again and I know that if I could see him he’d be studying his fingernails, a completely neutral expression on his face. “There are signs that there’s another big fish out there. Making moves. Pulling strings. And it’s not me. And I’m almost positive it’s not Greco. I thought it might be Dante.”

  “You’re grasping at straws, Dad.” A protective instinct for my brother flares up inside me. He doesn’t know anything about Dante. “I know it’s always been your dream that your oldest son would become a murderous gangster just like you, but he’s never going to stoop that low.”

  “You watch your goddamn mouth, little girl,” he barks through the phone and my heart races. I never speak to my father that way and he never yells at me. He never has to. I always bow to him.

  Usually, it’s not hard for me at all to fall into my role as a dumb, docile daughter who does anything that her daddy tells her to but something has changed and I can’t quite put my finger on it. I don’t want to be a pawn in my dad’s game. I don’t want him to pump me for information on my brothers. I don’t want him to treat me like I’m dumb. For the first time in my life I want respect more than I want him to leave me alone.

  I feel Dare’s arm tighten around my waist and I realize the catalyst for those feelings. It’s my relationship with Dare. He makes me want to be myself. He makes me want to show my strength. It might be silly, but it makes me want to act like an ancient, powerful goddess who doesn’t have to take shit from dickhead mortals like my father.

  I sit up. “No. You watch your goddamn mouth, Dad.” Dare stares at me like I’ve lost my holy mind and maybe I have. “You can’t do what you did to Dante and then expect me to feed you information on him. You shot him in the fucking leg. Your own son. And don’t give me this shit about it being an accident. Just because the person you meant to shoot was his fiancé, which isn’t any better. Just because you’re willing to murder people doesn’t make you God, you son of a bitch. You don’t get to have the power to decide who lives and who dies. I don’t care if you miss your sons. I don’t care if your empire goes to shit after you die because your children hate you too much to take it over. I don’t care about whatever slimy, backroom deal you have going on out on the docks. Whatever fucked up arms deal or drug deal you think will make richer. I don’t care.”

  I start to lose my momentum a little bit but there are a few things I have to say still.

  “And for the record, I’m not dumb. I’m smart as hell. There is no Italian Heritage Scholarship. I got into U of M on my own merits. And then I took out loans to pay for college. Just like I will to go to law school where I’m going to become someone who can help put away criminals like you.”

  I press ‘End’ on the call and set my phone down on the coffee table, my hand trembling.

  Dare brushes my hair out of my face and takes me by the chin. His eyes swallow me whole and my breath comes out choppy. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

  Dare raises his eyebrows. “Me neither.”

  “You made me do that,” I say and his eyebrows draw together, confused. “I mean you gave me the courage to do that. Being with you gave me the courage.”

  Suddenly, I’m swamped with feeling for him. The adrenaline of yelling at my father courses through my veins and Dare is there in front me naked and hot and laid out like a buffet.

  I clamp my mouth to his and shove my tongue inside. He meets the kiss ferociously and our teeth click as I push him onto his back, rearing up over him. That last time we made love it was a slow, lazy pushing into each other that grew passionate and fast at the end. But that’s not the pace I want right now.

  Right now, I want ferocious. Vicious bite and speed and suck. I break the kiss and sit up, rubbing my pussy on his hard cock. I swivel my hips up and catch the head of his cock in my slit. I didn’t even know I knew how to do that, but in my passion my body is taking over. Bringing us both where we so desperately need to be.

  Dare’s hands dig into my hips and his eyes are dark with unbridled lust, but his voice is gentle. “Alessia, baby. Slow down. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. Oh, FUCK.”

  He grinds his teeth together and throws his head back as I push down on his cock a
nd take him all the way inside in one fluid motion. His hands grip me so tight I’m sure they’ll leave a mark. And I love it.

  I throw my head back and lift up on him before slamming back down.

  “Hold on, gorgeous,” he growls out between his clenched teeth. “Condom. We need a condom.”

  “I don’t give a fuck,” I say and I grind down on him, wiggling my hips once he’s bottomed out inside me. Taking him even deeper. I lift and take him again. There’s no finesse in my movements, only passion. Our skin slaps together as I pick up the pace. Dare’s hips start to lift into me and soon he’s fucking me from the bottom as hard as I’m fucking him from the top. I throw my head back and my hair rains down my back, tickling my ass. One of my hands grips the back of the couch for balance and the other traces up my side.

  I find myself touching my own breasts and it makes me even wetter. Dare’s hand instantly joins mine over my breast and he closes my fingers over my nipple. I moan and feel my wetness everywhere between us.

  “Fuck,” he growls again and I look down to see his eyes glued to the place where we’re joined. His bare cock pulling out and pushing into my wet little pussy over and over. The sight overcomes me and suddenly, with no warning at all, my body pulls tight and explodes. I swirls off into the atmosphere as I stop breathing, stop living for a moment. I can’t feel my fingertips or toes. All I can feel is the place where I’m joined to Dare, where his hand has dropped to play with my clit through my orgasm, prolonging it.

  The feeling subsides and I almost want to collapse on his chest, but my adrenaline is still pumping and I won’t let myself. My tissues are so sensitive that I can already feel myself racing toward my next orgasm as I ride Dare. My eyes slam closed as I chase the feeling. Block out the world except for the feeling of Dare inside me. That’s all I need. All I’ll ever need.

  But my eyes fling open as Dare grabs me around the waist and, keeping us connected, rolls so that he’s on top. He takes my mouth in a kiss so passionate and tender I almost want to break it. I can’t handle tender right now. But the kiss is offset when he draws one of my legs up around his waist and I feel the sharp crack of his palm against my ass.

  I pause, only for a second, when I realize he’s just spanked me. Hard. And the feeling was almost as good as an orgasm. I feel the reverberations of the spank all the way up to nipples and in my clit, which is throbbing with the need to come again. He rubs his hand over the spot where he spanked me, soothing it. He drags his cock almost all the way out of me.

  And then slaps my ass again before thrusting all the way back inside. He starts to work up a rhythm. Spanking and thrusting and soothing. My wetness and our sweat makes us slide against one another as we clutch and grind together. I bury my face in his shoulder and he’s groaning on every thrust into me. He’s not usually quite so vocal. I wonder if it’s because he’s not wearing a condom. The thought of him completely bare inside me has my body pulling tight as I tip my pelvis up to him and take everything he’s giving me.

  The orgasm hits me like a tidal wave, submerging me and dragging me miles from where I started. I’m vaguely aware of my teeth biting into the curve of his neck at his shoulder, but everything else melts away as I scream Dare’s name over and over again.

  My body is completely wrung out as the orgasm recedes, all I have strength left to do is receive as Dare pounds into me. My body, completely relaxed and open from the strength of my orgasms allows him to go deeper than he’s ever been before and his grunts are mixed with my name as he thrusts and grinds himself into my pussy like he’s trying to become one person with me.

  “Fuck!” he growls again and abruptly pulls out, pressing his throbbing cock into my stomach and gripping me so close our bodies press against it as he gives one more grind against me. His body goes completely tense against me and I feel his hot seed spill all over my belly.

  It slides in between us as he sags over top of me. Both of us covered in each other’s arousal and wetness. A few seconds pass where his full weight is on top of me, but before I can squirm, he’s suddenly lifting me and carrying me like a baby into the master bathroom.

  He sits on the edge of the tub, keeping me in his lap while he reaches over and fiddles with the knobs. We stay quiet as the tub fills with hot, bubbly water. He draws circles over my back and I trace one finger through his come on my stomach.

  Experimentally, I raise one of my fingers to mouth and lick the come off of it. “Alessia,” he growls, menacingly. “Enough. You need to rest now. And if you do that again, I’m going to fuck you. Again.”

  I grin up at him, about to tell him that that is exactly what I want when my eyes drop to a large purple bruise on his shoulder, decorated with two perfect lines of teeth marks.

  “Oh my God! I hurt you,” I lift one hand to the bruise and gently touch it, horrified with myself.

  He shrugs as he turns the water off and lifts me into the tub and onto his lap. He grabs the loofa and starts gently cleaning me off. “So?”

  “But, isn’t it really painful?” I look up at him, chagrin all over my face. I know I was kind of in another place when I just went to town on him, but I shouldn’t have hurt him like that.

  “Was it really painful when I spanked your perfect little ass?” he asks, running the loofa over my stomach and breasts and dunking it down to gently wash over my pussy.

  I blush at his blunt words and gasp at the gentle contact but I answer his question. “A little bit. But mostly it felt good.” I look up at him as I admit it. “It made me come so hard.”

  “See?” he said, smiling down at me. “Why would this be any different than that?”

  “I don’t know,” I shrug and let him tip my hair back into the water, “because I’m the one who did it.”

  His hands stroke over my scalp and it makes my eyes fall closed. “You’re too hard on yourself, gorgeous. You gotta start from the truth.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The truth is that you’re a good person. You gotta start from there. You judge yourself so harshly. You see your own actions through the idea that you’re bad. In your mind, a bad person bites her man too hard and bruises him during sex.” He reaches for the shampoo and starts to smooth it through my hair. “But I, for instance, see your actions through the lens of you being a good person. You know, this amazingly sweet, kind, passionate woman got caught up in the moment and gave her man the kind of pleasure/pain that made him come so hard he left earth for a minute.”

  “You think I see myself as bad?”

  “Sometimes. You can just be so hard on yourself. Like right now, you’re beating yourself up for talking to your father that way.”

  My stomach tightens and I turn to look at him. “How did you know that?”

  He starts to wash the shampoo out of my hair and his voice gets quieter. “Because I see you, remember? I know you. And I know Patrizzio. He deserved those words, gorgeous. Trust me. He deserves far harsher words than the ones you just gave him.”

  “I know that,” I say as I drop my eyes. I hate talking about this. “I know my father is bad man.”

  “No. That’s not what I mean. I don’t mean he deserves those words as punishment for his sins. I mean he deserves it because he needs it in order to get his head on straight. Somewhere inside him he still believes that he can use his children as pawns and manipulate them into relationships with him.”

  “He’s delusional,” I whisper, the realization of it washing over me. “You never think your own parents are just straight up out of their minds. Even when they are murdering, reprehensible, mob bosses.”

  “Definitely,” Dare agrees with me. “And harsh words from his beloved daughter might help him to get a clearer understanding of the situation. That you’re not to be fucked with. And if he wants to know you, he has to respect you.”

  I dunk my head under water and our hands tangle as we scrub the shampoo out of my long hair. I come back up and brush the water out of my eyes. “How come you get that and
he doesn’t?”

  He shrugs. “Because I see you clearly. Because I was never blinded by emotions so I could always see the missteps that everybody made along the way.”

  I freeze in his arms. Does that mean that he’s blinded by them now? I want to ask, but my stomach flips too much to get the words out. Instead, I switch positions with him and start to get his hair wet.

  There was one little string he left before that I can’t help but tug at. “So you’re my man, huh?”

  His eyes come open as I massage his scalp and he holds me in his steady stare, his head in my lap. “You got a problem with that?”

  “No,” I shake my head.

  “Good,” he says, dunking his head and scrubbing off the shampoo. “Because you’re my woman.”