Page 12 of Mafia King
“I hate you,” I lie. I want him more than I hate him. God, I am so, so broken.
“Hate me as much as you want. Spit on me. Fight me. Whatever you do to me, Rosetta’s not coming back.”
“Fucking you won’t bring her back either.”
“But maybe it will bringyouback.”
“It won’t.” I mean to be definitive, but the words that are supposed to go directly from my brain to my mouth get rerouted through my heart, and there they’re turned into an invitation with his name engraved on the envelope.
Santino reads the tone loud and clear, scooping me up and hauling me upstairs before I can tell myself to protest. For my sister. For my self-respect. For any amount of power I want to maintain in this sick marriage.
But I can’t work myself into the lie, because my whole body sings for his as he takes me into the bedroom I refuse to share with him and sets me on the floor.
“Run or lie down,” he says. “I won’t chase you, but if you don’t leave now… if you stay in this room… I’m going fuck you.”
I believe every word he says. I can leave right now and he won’t stop me. I can go be alone in my room with this hot ball of throbbing desire breathing between my legs like a living thing.
I walk to the door, more sure of my choice with every stride. One, two, three, four steps. I put my hand on the doorknob, pause, reaffirm my decision to myself, then without looking at him, I slap it shut.
“You were saying?”
It takes him only two steps to come within reach.
“You,” he says as he pulls my pretty blue dress over my head. “Are first.” He tosses the dress aside as if it offends him. “You.” He yanks my underwear down to my ankles with one stroke. “Are the only.” From behind, he unhooks my bra, then pushes the straps over my arms, leaving me naked. “It’s you, Violetta. Only you.” His hands come around me and thumb my hard nipples. “There’s no other woman I want. No other tits.” A hand drifts down between my legs. “No other pussy. You are mine. First and always.”
That’s when I remember what I’m pissed about. I’m the Second Sister. The Left Behind. The Lesser of Two.
“Fuck you, liar.”
Before I can draw another breath, I’m airborne, landing on the bed like a pillow. He jerks his clothes off as if they’re on fire. I sit up on the bed. He’s naked over me. His cock is a life force—maddened and engorged and demanding.
He puts a hand on each of my knees. “This what you want?” Roughly, he pulls up my knees and I fall on my back. “I was gentle before.” He yanks my legs open and I’m exposed meat to a hungry lion. “Now I’m going to fuck you the way you want.” Without preamble, he pierces me with two fingers, pushing as deep as they go. “I’m going to unlock the bitch and find the kitten.” He twists his hand and expertly flicks my clit with his thumb.
I groan.
“Purr for me.” He thumbs harder, but I’m not taking orders without a fight.
“You disgust me.”
I take him by the throat, but my grasp seems to have no effect. His eyes narrow, and a smirk threatens one corner of his mouth when he presses down his thumb and makes a circle. My thighs tighten and my hips push his fingers deeper.
“That why you like this?” He moves his thumb against my nub, and I tighten my grip around his neck.
“I can’t stand the sight of you.”
“Then don’t look.”
In one move, he flips me onto my belly and pulls me half off the bed by the ankles. He spanks my poor bare ass with his palm, then the back of his hand, then spreads me apart and wedges himself along the slit between my legs.
“This better for you then?” His cock presses against my folds as he holds me down. The forced immobility triggers a rush of desire.
“What do you care?” I want him to take it without me giving it.
“I don’t.” He rests his cock where I’m wet, pausing his movement. “Tell me to stop. Tell me no.”
The opportunity to disobey and submit at the same time is not one I can turn away from. I could say I’m emotionally disengaged from what’s happening. I could tell myself there’s a coldly calculated plan underlying my resistance and the pleasure I get from it.
But those are lies. I’ve never been more fully present.
