Mafia Mistress by Mila Finelli

Chapter Thirteen

Francesca

I had clearly lostmy mind.

Fausto Ravazzani had undressed me and caressed me between my legs. Dropped to his knees for me. Had I complained or tried to stop him? No, because the way he bossed me around turned my insides to molten lava and my brain to mush. It was like he started talking dirty and I lost the ability to think.

So help me, I wanted him.

As he kissed my inner thigh, his strong hands held me in place. Hands that had done unspeakable violence, yet could be tender, as well. I was completely bared before him, his face close to my pussy. Did I smell all right down there? I knew from watching porn that a lot of guys enjoyed it, but oral had only come up once with David, when he said it wasn’t his favorite thing to do. Of course, he’d liked it when I gave him head.

The tip of Fausto’s tongue touched my folds—and I jumped.

“Relax,” he breathed. “Put your hands on your tits and feel what I am doing to you, bellissima.”

God, hearing Italian words come out of his mouth in that low tone was like sex on a plate. I cupped my breasts, which were already heavy and aching, and squeezed my nipples. Pleasure streaked through me. Fausto dipped his head and licked me, and heat suffused my lower half. Growling, he pressed closer and tongued my entrance.

“Fuck, you are so wet for me.”

Then he began moving his lips and tongue, exploring my labia, until he reached my clit. The first swipe of his tongue over that tiny bundle of nerves caused me to slam my eyelids shut and throw my head back. It was electric, like a switch to the pleasure center of my brain had been flipped. Tingles ran up and down my legs and I could only lie there as he did it again and again, flicking and circling the nub with his tongue.

His finger worked its way into my pussy, stretching me, and I moaned. “Oh, my God.”

The reaction earned me another finger and a long suck of my clitoris. My toes curled and I could feel the orgasm building in my belly. How was this happening so fast? “I’m so close,” I told him. “Oh, God. Keep going, please.”

Unbidden, my hips started rocking against his face, my body desperate for release. I think I would have agreed to anything at that moment, but luckily Fausto didn’t try and take advantage. He continued to work my clitoris and pump his fingers into my pussy.

It wasn’t enough. I really wanted him to fuck me.

The thought of his muscled body, so manly and strong, pounding into me pushed me over the edge. I shouted as my walls convulsed around his fingers, my limbs shaking. The euphoria washed over me, more intense than I’d ever felt before. This wasn’t the gentle waves of a self-induced orgasm. This was a tsunami dragging me to depths I had never imagined before, drowning me in endorphins.

When it finally ended, I sagged into the mattress, limp. Fausto’s mouth gentled but didn’t stop as he lapped up the wetness at my entrance. His eyes were closed as if he were savoring me, and I couldn’t look away from his beautiful face. Why did he have to be so incredible looking? It would make him easier to resist if he were slightly less attractive.

I could still see him in those tiny swim trunks, his mature and virile body on full display. This was no boy, more interested in his own pleasure like David. This was a man who knew what he wanted and took it—and right now that thing was me. I licked my lips, a fresh shot of desire going through me.

His lids opened and blue eyes pinned me to the spot. They were wild and hungry. Feral. A little scary, even. He continued to taste me while staring up at me, as if he were gauging my reaction. I couldn’t move, my muscles now lax.

Then he crawled over me, kissing my skin along the way, until he reached my breasts. I liked that I was completely naked and he was still dressed. Something about that felt naughty, as if I were seducing him. My hands were still on my breasts, so he nudged my palm aside with his nose to draw a nipple into his mouth. He sucked hard, with long pulls that echoed between my legs, directly in my clit. Everything was heightened, my body more sensitive now that I’d come, and he seemed in no hurry to move on as he lavished attention on my breast.

Soon I was writhing, my heart racing as I panted, my nails digging into his shoulders. He switched to my other breast, his tongue flicking my nipple then biting it before bringing the nipple into his mouth to suck. I was a shuddering, mindless mess, unable to stop moaning as it wore on. Was he trying to foreplay me to death?

His fingers slipped between my legs, rubbing my clit exactly like I did when I masturbated, with light steady pressure, and I came a second time. When I finally calmed, he released my breast and kissed my neck. “Tu sei perfetta.”

You are perfect.

A sweet Fausto Ravazzani? I was used to him being an asshole, but this side was even more dangerous. Before I could wrap my head around this change in him, he shifted and rolled off the bed. Standing, he raked his eyes along my body, an erection bulging in his trousers. Then he turned and started for the door. “Buona sera, Francesca.”

Wait, what was happening? Didn’t he want to have sex with me? “Where are you going?”

“To bed. Sleep well, dolcezza.”

“But….”

I didn’t know how to ask it. Worse, I knew I shouldn’t. This man was bad for me. I should be grateful he didn’t want to fuck me.

But I wasn’t.

I wanted to know the feel of his dick, what it would be like to have him slide inside me. Fill me up and overwhelm me in the very best way.

You’re fucked up, Francesca.

Yes, clearly.

As usual, Fausto had no trouble following my thoughts. “I’m not going to fuck you tonight. I want you to crave it. To need my cock so badly that you beg me for it. And when I do fuck you, you’re never going to forget it.” He opened the door and something akin to panic filled me.

“Wait,” I called as he started to leave.

“Yes?” He looked bored, perfectly under control. Nothing like the ravenous lover of a few moments ago.

“This was a one-time thing. Just tonight.”

The edges of his mouth curled. “If you need to believe such nonsense in order to sleep tonight, then by all means, lie to yourself. But I will fuck you as much as I want, whenever I want. And you’ll enjoy every second, I promise.”

He left without another word. I stayed there on the bed—naked, my body humming from two fantastic orgasms—and resolved to make him eat those words. I would resist him. If he thought to make me the next Katarzyna, he was sorely mistaken. I had no interest in being his fuck toy.

I needed to come up with a better escape plan than sneaking out the back door and walking to find help. No, I had to find a true way off the estate and out of Fausto Ravazzani’s life.

* * *

A knock wokeme way too early.

I’d taken to sleeping in the last few days, not eager to see anyone at breakfast. And last night I stayed up late after Fausto’s double orgasm fest, thinking about his promise. Was I so weak as to sleep with the man who’d almost been my father-in-law? The man who wouldn’t let me go home?

No, I was strong. A Mancini. We were not weak and we were not quitters. So as attracted as I was to Fausto, I had to resist him.

“Signorina, are you awake?” It was one of the Ravazzani staff.

“Yes?”

“Signore Ravazzani requests your presence for breakfast.”

What the fuck? Did he think he could just order me around because he made me come twice? “Tell him I’m sleeping.”

The door opened and the maid peeked inside, her eyes apologetic. “He said you might say that, and to tell you that if you are not downstairs in ten minutes he will come up and get you himself.”

The sad part was that he would absolutely do it, the stronzo.

“Fine.” I was starving anyway, having skipped dinner last night. “But tell him I need fifteen minutes.”

“He won’t be happy, signorina.”

I smiled sweetly as I pushed up out of bed. “He’ll get over it.”

She seemed horrified by my cavalier attitude, but I didn’t care. Fausto needed to learn that I was not at his beck and call just because he’d given me head for the first time. I took my time in the bathroom. I showered and brushed my teeth, then applied mascara and sunscreen. I chose a pair of tiny shorts and a halter top that showed off my boobs and the lower part of my stomach.

I was not dressing to entice him. I was dressing to show him what he would never have again. Last night was a mistake, a moment of weakness on my part that would not be repeated, and Fausto could find someone else to jump into bed with.

I bounded down the stairs and went into the dining room. When I opened the door, he put his phone on the table and frowned at me. He wore a white dress shirt with no tie, the first two buttons at his throat undone, revealing off the thick column of his throat. His eyes swept my outfit, lingering on my bare legs, before returning to my face. Not about to give in, I selected a seat far away from him, even though the only other place setting was on his right.

“No.” His voice rang out in the cavernous room. “You will sit by me.”

“I want to sit here.”

He flicked his fingers and the two maids in the room scurried out, leaving him and I alone. “You don’t seem to understand. When I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed.”

“I am not a dog or your toy. I will do what I want.”

I could see the smoldering challenge in his cool gaze, the ruthless determination. Still, I would not back down.

“Come here.”

“Are you not listening to me? You cannot order me around.”

He put his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. “If you do not come here, I will pull you over my lap and spank you. All the staff and probably Zia will hear. Is this what you want?”

I glared at him, trying to see if he was serious or not.

Shit, he looked serious.

“Fine,” I grumbled and went over to the empty seat on his right. “I’ll sit here.”

“No.” He pushed back from the table a bit. “You’ll sit on my lap.”

My skin grew hot. “That’s—”

“Would you rather have the spanking, monella?”

I flicked my eyes toward the door, hoping someone would come in and save me. Where was Giulio or Zia? This man was a tyrant and everyone just let him get away with it.

“I am losing patience, Francesca.”

I swallowed, but forced myself forward. What was the big deal? I could sit on his lap for a few minutes. We’d been more intimate last night, so where was the harm in this?

I slid sideways onto his lap, his thighs hard under my legs. He was warm and smelled like an expensive cologne or aftershave, the kind that could mesmerize you if you got too close. My whole body was aware of where he touched me, like he was a magnet for my blood cells.

Instead of letting me sit to the side, he quickly repositioned me with my back to his front, throwing my legs on the outside of his thighs. In seconds I was spread open, my body reclined against his. When he tried to unfasten my shorts, I put my hands down to stop him. “What are you doing?”

“Grab the armrests.” When I didn’t move fast enough, he gave a light slap to the inside of my thigh. “Do it.”

Heat spread from the spot he struck me, but it wasn’t pain. It was a rush of excitement, and I put my hands on the armrests. After unbuttoning the shorts, his hand slid directly into my panties, reaching down until he cupped my pussy. The cloth didn’t give him a lot of room to maneuver but he shifted his fingers over my clit. I gasped, sparks racing along my spine. “Stop,” I said. “Someone will walk in.”

“Then that means you had better come quickly.” He kissed the nape of my neck then sank his teeth into the flesh and tendons there. Wetness flooded between my legs, aiding his movements over my clit. He licked over his bite marks. “I want to bite you everywhere, Francesca. Mar that beautiful skin with my teeth.”

Then he began speaking a long string of Italian I didn’t understand, but the sexy words along with the low, gravely way he said them filled me with fire, like he’d struck a match inside my belly. Soon I was rocking my hips, seeking, chasing, grasping at the orgasm just another few strokes away, the pleasure coiling as my muscles tightened. Fuck, yes. I needed this so badly.

All of a sudden, he paused, his fingers sliding away, not touching where I needed them most. What was he doing? I squirmed, trying to get him to finish me. “Fausto,” I whined, on the precipice. “Please.”

His lips traveled up my throat to my ear. “Whose toy is this?”

Oh, God. Why had I ever said I wasn’t his toy? Now he had to try to prove me wrong.

I couldn’t answer. Instead I rubbed my ass against his very hard dick.

He grunted and shifted to hold my hips still. “Tell me, dolcezza. Whose toy are you? Who does your pussy belong to?”

“No, I can’t. Please.”

He moved his fingers along my labia, but not over the swollen center that begged for friction. His free hand came up to circle my throat. “I’ll give you what you want. Just tell me. I want to hear the words.”

My body screamed even as my ears rang with denial. But I was weak, so weak, when he touched me. It was like I had no control over my movements, no willpower. I was an animal who needed to come. Reason had long since departed.

The words tumbled out of my mouth. “I’m your toy, Fausto.”

“Who does your pussy belong to?”

I dug my nails into the wooden armrest. “You, Fausto. My pussy belongs to you.”

He moved his fingers to my clit and the hand at my throat squeezed lightly, but it was enough. I detonated, my body trembling against him as I came, and the world blanked out as the orgasm went on and on. I was floating on a sea of color and air, far away from mafia bosses and castles. Nothing mattered, except this glorious feeling.

But nothing good ever lasted. And when the orgasm subsided, shame instantly filled me.

How quickly my show of bravado had crumbled. A few pets of my clit and he had me panting, begging, practically drooling for him. I was pathetic.

My eyes started to fill, but I would not cry in front of him. What had happened was humiliating enough. I couldn’t stand it if he saw my tears, too.

I started to shove off his lap, but strong arms held me in place. “Do not regret what happens between us. You like what I do to you, so don’t question why.”

“Do not tell me how to feel. You might control my body, but you don’t control my mind, Fausto.”

“You are strong willed, which makes my dick hard. But you will find I am strong willed, as well. Just remember that I will always win.”

I pushed up off him and he let me go this time. I buttoned my shorts without looking back at him, then I grabbed a corentto off the table and walked out of the dining room. He and his hard dick could go fuck themselves.