Mafia King (Royal Mafia Book 3)

by Bella J.

  Nervous and anxious, I grabbed the long strands of my hair and pulled it over my left shoulder.

  “Did he do that to you?”

  Surprised, I watched as he got up from his seat, moving toward me. I could hear my heartbeat echo in my head, and when he reached out, his fingertips touching my hair, I sucked in a breath.

  He cocked his head to the side while gently pushing my hair back. “Did he do this to you, Doe?”

  I couldn’t answer. The sound of compassion in his voice stirred something inside me. And his eyes—they were soft, yet angry as he stared at my scars. Fingertips traced along the side of my face, and then I did something I had never done before. I leaned deeper into his touch and closed my eyes. The tenderness of his caress, the calmness of his voice, and the glimpse of kindness I saw in his eyes sent a wave of warmth throughout my body, withering away the cold which had taken permanent residence inside my soul for so long.

  But it was short-lived when I felt him pull away, and for the first time in my life, I mourned the loss of touch.

  He took a step back. “Never mind. Go ahead. Ask me your first question.”

  “Um…” This felt so unreal, to actually have permission to talk freely. “Am I…are we…” I stuttered a little, “is this Boston? Boston, America?”

  “Yes. You’re in Boston.”

  I couldn’t believe it. My life had gone full circle by letting me end up where I started. Tears stung my eyes, and I had to clench my jaw in order to stop them from escaping. I didn’t want to do anything to ruin this chance I had of finally being able to ask questions. To speak freely.

  “How do you know Boston, Doe?” A question for a question.

  I pulled at the ends of my hair which hung over my shoulder. “I think I was born here. I remember the name, the place. Memories of when I was a little girl.”

  He frowned, and I knew I had only created more questions by answering his first.

  He turned then picked up his glass before facing me again. “Go ahead, ask another.”

  There were too many questions. I had to sort through them to pick the most important ones in case this entire conversation would end soon.

  “Did you…was I sold to you?”

  “Jesus,” he muttered under his breath before slamming back the entire glass of alcohol. He cringed then wiped his mouth the back of his hand. “No. No, Doe. You weren’t sold. I didn’t buy you.”

  Oh, God. “Was I stolen?”

  I completely forgot my place. Forgot how this conversation worked. A question for a question. And I wanted to take it back, but to my surprise, he didn’t scold me. Nothing about his demeanor showed any kind of reproach.

  “I don’t have the answer to that question. But I can say that if you were stolen, it wasn’t by me.”

  Oh, no. If Master V didn’t sell me, the only explanation was that I had been stolen. I’d heard of it so many times, of slaves being stolen and sold to others. We were possessions, traded, sold, and stolen. Our worth was determined by our beauty, by how well trained we were. The day Master V bought me, he told me I cost him millions because he had to outbid another in order to have me. And because I cost him so much, he would never sell me to anyone. He would rather kill me and bury my bones in his backyard so he could be reminded of what I was worth to him whenever he looked out of his back window.

  “My turn.” He sat back down on the chair. “How old are you?”

  “I…I don’t know.”

  “How old were you when you celebrated your last birthday?”

  I blinked, and he shrugged. “You asked two.”

  I bit into my lower lip. “Ten. The last birthday I remember, I was ten.”

  He just nodded as he leaned with his elbows on his knees. “Your turn.”

  I couldn’t think of a single question. All I could think about was Master V, and who would be so bold as to steal from him. But that was a question my new master couldn’t answer, it seemed.

  “I don’t have any more questions.”

  His brows slanted inward. “No? You don’t want to know my name? You don’t want to know who I am?”

  “I already know your name. And I already know who you are.”

  “What is my name, and who am I?”

  I let my legs slip off the bed as I sat up straight. “To me, your name is Sir. But others call you Antonio. You are the head of this house and you are my new owner.”

  He snickered. “You say that like a well-rehearsed line, Doe.”

  Silence.

  “Okay.” He got up again. “Do you know a Vadik Volkof?”

  Nausea erupted in the pit of my stomach, forcing bile up my throat. The mere mention of his real name sent shivers throughout my entire body. I was no longer able to look at him, my strength suddenly gone.

  “Do you know him, Doe?”

  Memories of pain and torture were no longer hidden away in the far corners of my mind. With that name came so many bad feelings and memories, unleashing demons so strong it could tear me apart.

  “Doe?”

  I closed my eyes. “Master V.”

  “Master V? Is his real name Vadik?”

  “If he didn’t sell me, then I was stolen. He will come for me. He will kill for me. I know he will.” I started rocking back and forth. “He will bury me. He will never sell me.”

  “Doe. Stop.”

  “He will never let me go. I’m too precious. His most prized possession. He will never sell me.” Back and forth. Back and forth.

  “Doe.” And then I felt his touch at the side of my face. Instantly, the pain was gone, the memories sucked out of my mind. My wild, scattered thoughts stilled as my focus shifted from the nightmares of my past to the soft caress of his fingers against my cheek.

  I glanced up and into his eyes. Whether it was the ugliness of the memories or the fact that he made it go away, I didn’t know. But for a moment, those dark mahogany irises seemed like the most beautiful things I had ever seen. I found myself wanting to get lost in them, to drift away and let the dark currents envelop me. It was strange, disarming, but it was something I didn’t want to fight.

  A finger stroked the side of my face while his eyes searched my face. “He won’t hurt you, Doe. I won’t let him hurt you.”

  “Will you?” I whispered. “Will you hurt me?”

  His thumb wiped away a tear from my cheek. “I don’t know.”

  Chapter 13

  Antonio

  I had lost control of this conversation three questions ago. I came in here earlier wanting answers, and I was ready to force it out of her. But when I barged in and caught sight of her sleeping, something stirred inside me. She looked so innocent, so vulnerable. And even though the sight of her innocence made my cock twitch, I didn’t have the heart to wake her. I couldn’t help but wonder how many nights she was able to sleep so soundly, and if she had ever slept without fear. Without wondering whether she would wake up again.

  So instead of demanding the answers I sought, I sent for a chair, a table, and a bottle of bourbon. I sat in that corner, watching, waiting, wondering for what seemed like hours. Earlier I had two guns aimed at my head, and I saw a woman get shot simply because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. This shit was getting deeper by the second, threatening to drown us all, and I was no closer to figuring out what the fuck was going on. But what I did know—Doe was right in the middle of it. But trying to force answers out of her would get me nowhere. If I wanted her to open up, I needed her to trust me. And for a woman like her trust was non-existent, which meant it was probably something she yearned for. To be able to trust someone. So, what better way to get what I wanted than to entice her with the prospects of trust?

  Although quiet and subdued, something told me Doe would be able to see straight through a lie—which was why I didn’t chance it. So I answered each and every question honestly, truthfully…even her last one.

  “Will you hurt me?”

  I didn’t know. And that was the God’s honest
truth. Everything about her enticed the selfish fucker in me. Yet she also managed to make me feel my own humanity in a way no one else ever had.

  I was cunning. Ruthless. A killer when I needed to be. I had liars plead to me for mercy. I had traitors beg me to kill them fast, rather than torture them to death. I even hurt my own goddamn sister in order to get a point across. And not once had I ever experienced the urge to be lenient because leniency, to us, meant weakness.

  But with her, it was different. Somehow, she made me want to be good and bad at the same damn time. Talk about one giant mind-fuck.

  With my palm still cupping her cheek, I wiped my thumb across her soft skin. “The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll hurt you, Doe. I like to think I’m not like your other masters, but there’s something about you that makes me not trust myself with you.”

  She didn’t seem shocked by my answer. She didn’t seem disappointed or scared either. All she did was stare at me with those innocent brown eyes, and I let my fingers weave through her hair as I touched the side of her face.

  “Do you know why I chose Doe?”

  She shook her head.

  “Your eyes. They remind me of innocence. Like a doe.”

  Yeah. Me calling her Doe had nothing to do with that fact that I didn’t know her real name, but everything to do with the fact that her eyes had the power to bring mercy out of my soul.

  I heard her suck in a breath, and I could see the vein in her neck pulse to the rhythm of her heartbeat. I didn’t know whether it was from fear or my touch…but I didn’t care.

  My gaze dropped to the white button-down shirt she wore—the only thing she wore. “Did my sister not bring you clothing?”

  “She did, sir.”

  “Then why are you only wearing a shirt?” I didn’t lift my gaze from the sight of the flesh above her breast which teased me from under the white fabric.

  “It was the only thing that didn’t scratch against my skin. A woman like me isn’t used to wearing anything.”

  Christ, her soft voice and the thought of her walking around naked sent a thrill down my spine, crashing against the tip of my cock, which throbbed with need. I knew I was close to crossing the line. I knew I was only aggravating the beast, letting it grow more impatient. But I couldn’t stop myself from soaking up every goddamn second of this very moment. The longer I stood there, touching her, having her so close with the prospects of using her the way I wanted to was fucking with my resolve. It only made me want more. So. Much. More.

  My hand dropped from her face to her shoulder, easing the shirt to the side so I could see more of her skin. She didn’t move. The vein in her neck just started to pulse faster. Was it a sign of fear…or an invitation? Did I care?

  With fingertips against her collarbone, I leaned in closer. Her skin smelled like soap and honey. Sweet, and so fucking enticing.

  “The universe has such a sick sense of humor.” My lips barely touched her skin, and I took in her scent as I skimmed up her shoulder and her neck. “Every day is a constant battle between my head and my body, my head telling me that what my body wants is wrong. And here you are, tempting me to the point where I’d rather have my mind explode than to not have my body indulge in this beautiful sin that is you.”

  My cock ached, the lust smothering me, pulling me into the shadows of my blackened soul. Whether it was her, or the bourbon that buzzed within my veins, I was unable to fight it. I didn’t want to fight it.

  When I felt her warm breath against my skin, I smothered a groan, pain and lust spreading to every corner of my body. My cock was so hard, so fucking ready, it strained against the zipper of my pants. I could feel the veins in my arms bulge as desire flared with a need to fuck while dragging out this very moment for as long as possible.

  God, I wanted to use her in so many ways. I knew she was ruined, but I wanted to search for the tiniest part of her that was left and make it mine. Claim it. Use it. And if I wanted to, ruin it in the most unapologetic way.

  With a gentle touch and eager fingertips, I loosened the first button of her shirt, sweeping the fabric to the side, exposing the round flesh of her breast, her nipple teasing me by only allowing me a peek of the rosy bud. I licked my lips like a hungry fucking animal, my groin aching like a motherfucker. I leaned down, my cheek touching the skin on her chest, and all it took was a gentle blow of my breath, and her nipple was no longer hidden. A hard, round rosebud begged to be touched, to be sucked. But I only allowed myself a simple touch as I softly brushed the palm of my hand against her nipple, and it set my body on fucking fire. Such a simple touch and I wanted to unleash every dark urge I’d ever had, giving it all to this woman.

  I circled the tip of her nipple, and she didn’t stop me. Why would she? She was taught not to stop any man’s touch. This was what she had been trained to do. To please. And right now, I wanted her to please me—the selfish, greedy, devil that I was.

  I eased my way up her neck, loving her scent, wondering if she tasted as good as she smelled. “Are you afraid, Doe?” I pulled back an inch to look at her, to see her face.

  “I don’t know.” It was an honest answer. Of course, she would be afraid of me. There was no reason for her not to be. Yet the way her cheeks flushed, her eyes hooded and lips slightly parted, she was a beautiful masterpiece of desire and seduction.

  My lips barely touched the corner of hers as my hand traveled south, all the way down to her thigh. “I have another question for you, Doe.” With every inch my hand moved across her thigh, her breathing deepened. “Has a man ever made you come?” A whimper escaped her wet, enticing lips. Closer…closer…closer my fingertips traveled up her inner thigh. “Has a man’s touch ever made you feel good?”

  I heard her swallow, and when she closed her eyes, her breathing becoming more labored with every inch my touch traveled up her leg, I realized that not even a gun to the fucking head would make me stop now.

  “Answer me, Doe.”

  “No…sir.” Her voice was nothing more than a swoosh of air.

  “How does my touch make you feel?”

  The closer my hand moved to the apex of her thighs, the more I could feel her heat, inviting me, demanding my touch.

  She sucked in a breath. “Good, sir. It makes me feel…good.”

  I couldn’t be sure whether it was the answer she had been trained to give, or if it was the truth. But there was only one way I could find out.

  I moved my hand then slipped a finger through the folds of her pussy. “Jesus.” I cursed when I felt how wet she was. How ready she was. My touch was making her feel good. She might have been able to lie to me, but her body couldn’t. And right now her body was weeping with the fucking truth.

  “Open your legs wider.”

  She obeyed almost immediately, moving her thighs further apart, granting me better access to her needy little pussy. My cock throbbed as I continued to move a single finger through her sensitive flesh.

  My lips brushed across her collarbone, my tongue flicking against her skin. “I want to give you what no other man has ever given you. But first I need you to say you want it. You need to tell me how badly you want my touch.” And then I stilled with my hand between her legs. The moan that tore from her lips sent a wave of undiluted lust straight down my spine, crashing against the tip of my cock.

  “Please,” she begged. “Please, sir.”

  A grin tugged at the corners of my lips. “What is it, Doe? What do you want?”

  “Please.” Her hips moved, searching, wanting, needing more. But I pulled back just an inch.

  “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

  Another whimper. “Please, sir. Make me feel good.”

  And that was the only permission I fucking needed.

  I pressed my thumb against her clit, earning a soft moan from her lips. I massaged that one little spot, keeping a steady rhythm. Out of pure desire, I flexed forward, my cock aching, needing, fucking begging to be buried deep inside her wet cunt.
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  She spread her legs even wider, and I smiled. “You like my touch, don’t you, Doe?”

  “Yes, sir.” No hesitation. No trace of a lie in her voice.

  “And this?” I slipped a finger into her and groaned when her hips moved, her pussy growing greedier by the second. “Do you like that?”

  “Yes, sir. Oh, God.”

  I moved my finger in…and out of her. With every stroke, her body welcomed my touch…demanded it, even. The more her arousal coated my hand, the more I lost myself. The world outside of this room began to fade to black. My inhibitions. My fears. My struggle. It all disappeared, making way for the most primal needs of my being.

  With my finger still buried inside her, I teased her clit some more, and she bit her bottom lip, trying to stifle a moan.

  “Don’t. Let me hear you. I want to hear what my touch does to you.”

  Her body started to shake, and I wrapped an arm around her pulling her closer to the edge of the bed so she could spread her legs even wider for me.

  “I want you to come, Doe. I want to see the pleasure consume you.”

  More moans. More flexing of her hips. I pushed harder against her clit, slipping a second finger into her pussy, but something was missing. I could feel that she needed more. She needed me to give her that final push over the edge.

  “Look at me.”

  She did, her eyes nothing but swirls of unsated desire.

  With my one hand between her legs, I brought the other up, brushing my fingers softly against her warm skin. I loved the way her flesh burned under my touch, how her body seemed to succumb to temptation.

  I slid my fingers around her throat. “Do you need me to hurt you to make you come?”

  She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth.

  “Answer me, Doe.” I tightened my grip around her throat. “Give me the truth, or I won’t let you come.”

  “Yes,” she breathed out. “Yes, sir.”

  And then I squeezed tighter, my thumb brushing against the skin of her neck. The more I worked her pussy with my fingers, the more pressure I put around her throat.