Owned by the Mob Boss (11 page)

“I want you to lie down,” he instructed, pointing at the bed.

I sprawled out on the bed and waited.

“On your back,” he dictated, moving a long finger into a circle.

I rolled over and grinned. So far, this was simple. Simple I could do.

“Arms above your head.” When I complied, he added, “Good. Now don’t move.”

Don’t move? But he said not to talk, so I couldn’t question him. I just lay there, wondering what he had planned, the waiting driving me crazy. As much as I wanted to listen and obey, I didn’t want him to be the only one to touch me. I wanted to run my hands all over his hard body. I wanted to touch and feel and explore. I wanted to learn every tender spot. I wanted to memorize his body for the long, lonely nights I’d face after we parted ways.

Something long and hard jabbed against my ass but only for a second. His hands touched my shoulders, rubbing them, messaging them, his pressure a little light, soft and gentle, like a feather. I wanted to wiggle around, to sigh, but I didn’t. I was a good girl.

Then his fingers teased down my sides, and he reached forward to pinch my nipples before resuming his massage on my back. The pinching, the sudden pain, almost got me to gasp, but I held it in. It amazed me how much control I had to exhibit to not move, to not react verbally. It heightened the experience. Made it all the more incredible.

When his fingers trailed down lower, he cupped my ass then slapped it with one hand while shoving fingers deep inside me with the other hand. And I was done.

I just couldn’t help myself any longer. I rocked back against his fingers, and a loud moan slipped out. It felt way too good for me to just accept it. I needed more. I had to have more.

He immediately withdrew and slapped my ass again, harder this time. “I thought I told you not to talk,” he scolded.

Should I apologize? Or would that earn me another slap? I opted for silence.

“Did you hear me?” he asked, and he slapped me again. So many slaps so close together hurt, but he was massaging my ass now, and damn it all, if I wasn’t wet—really wet. I was a mess, a hot mess. He was taking bits and pieces of me, and I didn’t know if I could ever be put back to right again.

I nodded to answer his question, hoping that would appease him.

“Good.” He shoved three fingers inside me. “So wet,” he murmured, his voice softer now but still with a slight edge. “Do you want me?”

I nodded frantically, pleading with him with my eyes.

“Good.” His grin was wicked, and just staring at him left me wanting.

But he pulled out two fingers, and I fought back a moan. I wanted more. I needed more. I fought the urge to roll my hips. I fought the urge to groan. I fought, and I won, but I also felt like I lost too.

He finger-fucked me lazily for a minute with one finger, and I was dying for more. When he removed that finger too, I scowled. This was torture, and I began to daydream about ways that I could get him back if he ever gave me that level of control. I knew he needed to exhibit power in all aspects of his life. I might not have known him for long, but I could tell that power and control were huge issues for him. If he could just let go for once, to cut all ties, to give into freedom, maybe he wouldn’t be quite so uptight. Maybe then he could relax and enjoy life. Maybe I would start with a massage and trail my fingers down his hard muscles.

But I doubted I could be slow and torturous with him. I would just get right to it and hoped he could last a long while. Something about him made me want to just give of myself…of my body at least.

Suddenly, his hands found my waist, and he flipped me over. “Remember,” he warned. “Don’t move.” He climbed on top of me, his mouth inches from mine. “Do you understand?”

I nodded. Guess nodding was all I was allowed to do. Anticipation was building inside of me, but I tried to feign indifference. I didn’t want to seem too overly eager. I didn’t want him to realize just how much of a hold of my body he had already.

Ivan began at my shoulders again, massaging me. His hands went down my arms, and he entwined our fingers as he pressed against me with his cock. So big and hard. I shivered.

His mouth found mine, his tongue deep in my mouth, and I fought back a moan as I kissed him back hard and passionate, all fire and heat. Just the one kiss, and then he released my mouth, and my hands, and resumed massaging me, although now his hands were touching my sides, featherlight. He skipped over my breasts—which didn’t surprise me—and he began to rub my feet.

Some people might not like feet, but I loved having my feet touched, and he knew how to massage, his fingers working my muscles deep but not enough to cause pain. He knew how to walk the line between pleasure and pain, and he always came out on the right side of it.

My nipples hardened, and I so badly wanted to touch them, to touch myself, to give in and seek the relief Ivan obviously didn’t care that he was creating inside of me, that he obviously had no burning desire to unburden me from. He had me in a puddle, and if he asked me to do anything at that point in exchange for that relief, I would give in without question.

My toes were curling, that I couldn’t stop. A slow burn was creeping up my legs, and I so wanted it to reach my core, and, good Lord, he was torturing me. When would this end?

Then again, I never wanted it to end.

I gripped the blanket beneath me and ground my teeth so I wouldn’t talk. I wouldn’t give into him. I wouldn’t break. Not anymore.

“Good girl,” he murmured into my ear. He blew hot air onto my neck, and I shivered again.

Tears prickled behind my closed eyelids. This was too much to bear. I had to find a way to get off, or else I was going to go mad. Maybe that was his plan. To make me need him even more than just for his money. So that I would become blinded to all other things. So that I would be willing to do everything he asked. To make me not question him and his background.

But I didn’t want to think right now. I just wanted to feel and experience and enjoy.

“Am I teasing you too much?” he asked. He wasn’t by my face anymore, his fingers rubbing up and down my calves.

A trick question. I could nod, but I had a feeling that he wanted to tease me, that he wasn’t ready to stop regardless of how I answered.

“What do you want?” he asked. His thumbs rubbed the top of my feet. So good. “What do you want?” he asked again.

Not a fair question. It required more than a yes or no response, and I wasn’t supposed to talk. He was trying to trap me, to trick me.

“What do you want?” he asked again. He slid his hand up my legs and paused at my knees. It took everything in me not to spread my legs. “I think I know.”

His large hands pushed my legs apart farther, to my happiness, and he lowered his head and began to kiss and lick and suck me down there. It was just what I needed. The release I sought came quickly, and I did my best to control myself, to muffle my moan, but all of a sudden, I felt his soft hair through my fingers.

Whoops. I shouldn’t have done that. Had been too caught up in my pleasure, and I just had to reach out and touch him.

I released my hold on his hair. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, not wanting him to stop, knowing he would.

Would he punish me for defying him? Why does the thought of that make me even wetter?

He immediately stopped licking my pussy and stood. “I can’t blame you,” he said, staring down at me with hooded eyes. “It felt too good for you to hold back.”

Relief flooded through me. He understood. “Yes. You…” I sighed happily, unable to put into words how I felt, how he made me feel. He made me feel incredible, but it was so much more than that. He made me lose control.

He made me forget that I should be doing everything he said, that I should be the one listening, that right now he wanted to touch me, and I was to let him. Giving up control, that I could handle, and he definitely knew what to do when he had that same level of control given to him.

His eyes darkened. “But you didn’t listen to me,” he said, his voice a little gruffer now. “Should I punish you?”

A dark and delicious thrill went through me. A secret thrill. “If you think I deserve to be, yes.” I stared at him, issuing him a silent challenge.

“I don’t know how to punish you,” he said slowly. He rubbed his chin.

“You could spank me,” I suggested, remembering how it had smarted and hurt me yet it had made me even wetter at the same time.

His laugh echoed in the room. “You would like that, I think,” he said, shaking his head. “Is punishment meant to be enjoyed?”

I blushed. I had kind of enjoyed it. I hadn’t been spanked before. Not like that. Not in a way that had awoken me sexually.

“Maybe,” I whispered.

Ivan suddenly leaned down, his face inches from mine. His hand tightly wrapped in my hair, he pulled my head to the side and sucked hard on my neck, enough to bring me both pleasure and pain. He then kissed me thoroughly, enough to make my toes curl again. I could taste myself on his lips.

If this was punishment, I couldn’t wait to see what a reward might be. I’d do anything to sample a taste of his reward.

He was grinding himself against me, and I wiggled my hips, trying to entice him to enter me when he pulled back and stood. Ivan backed up a few steps, and my gaze trickled down from his handsome face to his chiseled abs and farther to his gorgeous cock.

“Suck me,” he demanded, his tone low.

I stared at his huge, thick, throbbing cock. No way could I fit all of that into my mouth.

But I could still try. I was more than willing to try.

I licked my lips and climbed off the bed to kneel in front of him. I licked the tip of his cock and, mentally preparing myself, opened my mouth.

His hands shoved the back of my head forward. Somehow, I didn’t gag, and I fucked him with my mouth. His hands applied slight pressure to my head if I slowed down, and even though I wanted to play with his balls, I had to cup and hold onto his ass to make sure I could stay upright and not fall over, I was fucking him that hard.

How much longer could he last? Just as I was thinking this, Ivan lessened his hold on my hair and allowed me to pull back. I stared up at him, waiting for him to tell me what to do next. My thighs were so wet. I had never enjoyed pleasuring a man orally than I had just now.

He was staring at me, a haze of lust shining in his dark eyes. I loved how badly he obviously wanted me. “Do you like being dominated in bed?” he asked.

All I could do was nod. You bet I did. In a way, giving up control was the definition of freedom.

Ivan lifted me up and flipped me upside down so my feet were high up in the air and my head was down near his cock. I shrieked at the suddenness of the movement, but his tongue found my clit, and my shrieks turned into moans. All the blood was rushing to my head, and what he was doing to me was so freaking crazy.

Before I could come, he flipped me back around and dropped me onto the bed. I bounced up and was more than willing to let him arrange and move my body, to direct me to be on all fours. I wiggled my ass, waiting for him, hoping he would give it to me.

And, man, did he give it to me. He pounded into me—long, deep, and hard—and it was no time before I was screaming again. Who came first? I wasn’t sure, but I sure as hell knew I had, not once but twice. My pussy was dripping wet, so wet that the amount of cum he pumped into me was already leaking out.

My arms buckled, and I collapsed onto the bed, spent and thoroughly fucked.

Did I like to be dominated? Oh yeah.

Did I want to get pregnant right away? Um, no.