Stuck in a Mafia Romance

No One’s Pov

She could feel his breath on them, hot and moist over the sensitive flesh. He leaned in, his tongue darting out to taste the skin between her breasts before he moved to capture one nipple in his hungry mouth.

Instantly, her body reacted. A gasp tore from her lips, her back arching off the bed. She had been a virgin all her life, saving herself for a moment that was supposed to be gentle and loving, but this was something she hadn’t been prepared for.

Viella tried to push him away, her hands straining against his grip, her mind screaming that this was too fast, too much. But the sensation was overwhelming,

Dante understood her hesitation, but he also understood her body. He didn’t stop. He swirled his tongue around the hardened nub, sucking it deep into the warmth of his mouth, his teeth grazing it just enough to send a shock wave of desire through her nervous system.

Moans escaped her lips. He released her wrists, his hands roaming down her sides, tracing the curve of her waist and the flare of her hips, pulling her closer to him. His attention on her breasts moved from one to the other, sucking, licking, and nipping until she was writhing beneath him, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.

He moved lower, his lips trailing a path of fire down her stomach. He paused to dip his tongue into her navel, tasting the salt on her skin, before continuing his actions.

Her breath came in ragged pants, her chest heaving as she watched him taking over her body as if he owns it.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down her legs with slowness. She kicked them off, needing to be free of the constraint, needing to feel him everywhere.

His breath was hot against her core, the scent of her arousal filling the air between them. She froze as his lips brushed her untouched flesh, the intimacy of the moment striking her with full force.

His tongue traced patterns over her clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves that made her toes curl.

She cried out, her hips bucking against his face, seeking more friction, more pressure. He ate her out like a starving man, devouring her juices, his tongue plunging into her tight hole, fucking her with his mouth.

"Dante, please," she whimpered, not sure if she was begging him to stop or begging him to never stop.

He rose up, his body covering hers once again. He positioned himself between her thighs, the head of his thick cock nudging at her entrance.

He looked into her eyes, his expression intense. He entered her slowly, stretching her wide, filling her inch by inch. There was a sharp, stinging pain as he broke through her barrier, tearing a cry from her throat, but he held still, letting her adjust to his size.

"Tell me who you belong to," he whispered, his voice rough with lust.

She bit her lip, turning her head away, refusing to give him the satisfaction. She wouldn’t submit, not completely.

He thrust deeper, burying himself to the hilt inside her tight wet pussy. His grip on her hips firmed, holding her in place as he began to move. Each stroke was relentless, hitting spots inside her she didn’t know existed.

The pain faded, replaced by a building pressure that threatened to snap. Her body trembled, her muscles clenching around him as he fucked her into the mattress.

"Say it," he demanded, his rhythm increasing.

She shook her head, her voice breaking as she moaned his name. "No."

He let out a low growl in his throat, and pounded into her harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room.

The bed creaked under the force of his thrusts. She felt herself climbing higher, the coil in her belly tightening to the breaking point. Her nails dug into his shoulders, leaving marks on his skin.

She was close, so close to the edge.

"Tell me," he gritted out, sweat dripping from his forehead onto her chest.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. The pleasure was too intense. Her body took over, moving with his, meeting his thrusts with a desperate need of her own.

She felt her pussy spasm around him, waves of ecstasy crashing over her as she came hard. Her vision blurred, white light exploding behind her eyelids.

Exhaustion overwhelmed her, her limbs feeling heavy and useless. Her consciousness began to fade, the sounds of the room muffling.

She heard him whisper her name, a soft sound despite the brutality of his actions.

He continued to move inside her, chasing his own release, his kisses soft against her lips now tender and worshipful.

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside her one last time, his body going rigid as he found his own release.

She felt him pulse, filling her with his hot cum. He placed a kiss on her lips, gentle and lingering, as the darkness finally claimed her. She passed out, exhausted. Her body still humming with the aftershocks of their heated session.

______________

The moment Viella opened her eyes, a sharp, dull ache shot out through her entire body specially in her abdomen. Beside her, a strong, solid arm was wrapped possessively over her waist, hugging her so tightly she could feel the steady thrum of a heartbeat against her chest.

She tried to shift, but she didn’t even make it an inch.

"Awake, Amore Mia?"

Dante’s voice was a hazy with sleep. He pulled her closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck and breathing her scent in. To him, it felt like a dream- to finally have her in his arms, her body claimed and her soul bound to his in a way no script could ever undo.

The moment his voice hit her ears, the memories of the morning rushed back. The heat, the desperation, the way he had looked at her- it sent a deep burning flush from her chest all the way to her hairline.

Overwhelmed, she shoved her face into the firm muscle of his chest, hiding from his gaze. She couldn’t believe she had actually done it.

Images of his heated skin and the overwhelming intensity of their union kept flashing in her mind. She groaned into his skin, hiding her face even harder.

Dante watched her squirm, a playful smirk spreading across his face. He loved this- the way his bunny was a blushing mess in his arms.

He leaned down, his lips hovering just a fraction of an inch from her ear, and blew a cool breath against the sensitive skin. Instantly, her ears turned a bright red.

The sensation of the cool air against her heated skin made Viella jump, a small squeak escaping her throat.

"Stop that!" she muffled into the wall of his chest, her voice sounding small and breathy.

Dante didn’t stop. Instead, he shifted, the friction of his skin against hers sending fresh jolts of electricity through her aching limbs.

He used his chin to nudge the top of her head, forcing her to look up, though she kept her eyes squeezed shut, refusing to meet that dark smug gaze.

"Why are you hiding, Vivien?" he asked, his voice a low. "You weren’t this shy a few hours ago. In fact, I remember you being quite... assertive."

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" she hissed, her heart pounding. "That... that was just some drug from before. My brain was clearly malfunctioning."

Dante let out a soft chuckle, his hand sliding down her spine to pull her even closer. The heat radiating off him was enough to melt her resolve.

He leaned down, his lips brushing the very tip of her reddened ear.

"Is that what we’re calling it now?" he whispered. "Malfunctioning? Because to me, it felt like the first time you were actually honest with yourself."

Viella finally risked a glance, opening one eye to see him watching her. He looked different- the cold gloomy mask had been replaced by a soft glow of satisfaction.

She looked down at his chest, seeing the faint, sticky residue of the strawberry syrup mixed with the marks she had left on him. A fresh wave of heat rolled over her. She had actually bit him.. She had...

"You’re a maniac," she whispered, her voice trembling. "A total, absolute psycho."

"And yet," Dante murmured, his hand cupping her cheek and forcing her to look at the hunger still in his eyes, "you’re still here. In my bed. In my house. And you haven’t tried to run for the door once since you woke up."

He was right, and that was the most annoying part. The pain in her abdomen was a constant reminder of how thoroughly he had claimed her, but strangely, the panic that usually fueled her escape was being replaced by a sense of belonging that she absolutely hated herself for feeling.

"I’m just too sore to move," she lied poorly, her face still pressed against his heart. "The moment I can walk, I’m out of here."

Dante’s grip tightened just a fraction not enough to hurt. "We’ll see about that, amore mia. But for now..."

He flipped her onto her back, hovering over her as the morning light filtered through the reinforced windows. "I think you still owe me for that stabbing stunt..."

As Dante’s lips moved lower, Viella’s eyes widened in genuine alarm. Every muscle in her body protested the mere thought of another round.

She knew him well enough by now. Sarcasm or sass would only be seen as a challenge. A spark to his flame.

"Please... Dante, no more," she whispered, her voice pitiful. "I can’t... I’m too sore."

The vulnerability in her voice seemed to work. Dante paused, a flicker of something like mercy or perhaps just smug satisfaction crossing his dark features.

He let out a low hum and finally pulled away, but he didn’t let her go far. With a sudden movement, he gathered her into his arms, blanket and all, and carried her toward the massive bathroom.

He placed her gently into the tub, the warm water swirling around her skin and easing the dull ache in her limbs.

"Don’t tell me you’re going to give me a bath now," Viella muttered, trying to pull the edge of the blanket closer even though it was already soaked.

Dante chuckled. "I wouldn’t mind keeping my scent on you the whole time, believe me," he said, rolling up his sleeves. "But you’ll feel sticky and uncomfortable. Let me take care of it."

He didn’t wait for an objection. His large hands were surprisingly gentle as he began to wash her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp in a way that made her toes curl.

Then, he moved the soap down, his palms gliding over her shoulders and down her back.

Despite her exhaustion and the lingering soreness, Viella felt her skin tingle everywhere he touched.

The steam from the water and the intimacy of his hands on her body made the air feel thick again. She looked away, her face flushing as the warmth of the water mixed with the heat rising in her chest and her core.

"You’re doing this on purpose," she whispered, her voice shaky as he moved the soap over her skin. "You’re trying to make me forget I’m your prisoner."

"Is it working?" Dante asked, his voice dropping as his hand lingered on her waist, his eyes dark with an intensity that told her he was far from finished with her- even if he was being gentle for now

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TO BE CONTINUED