Mafia Darling

24 | This Motherfucker (Marco)

Ella says nothing as we eat breakfast. It's obvious she saw Anastasia. I wonder if she heard her screaming and moaning, too. I hope she did. I want her to want it, to look me in the eye and beg me for it.

"Pretty, wasn't she?" I say, swirling orange juice in my glass.

Ella takes a bite of her toast. "The weather is nice today, sir," she says stiffly. "I've located prime locations for coffee and jewelry."

I wonder if I went too far in my revenge. Catching her come out of the closet with the assistant had blinded me with rage and jealousy. I wanted to push her back in there and show her what a real good time feels like, but that would play right into her hands. I can't harm the assistant either, as much as I want to punch him in the face. These dealings are too important to jeopardize.

"You're a virgin, aren't you, Miss Laurent?"

"I don't think that's an appropriate question, sir."

"It's also not appropriate to have sleep with a maid, but I did that. It's also not appropriate to kiss a rival mafia's assistant in a closet, but you did that. We're beyond prudishness."

Ella says nothing. I feel a pang of heartache. I would give anything to be back on our coffee date, to live in that moment again and again and a thousand times over. It was back when I wanted to take this slow and easy.

Now, I'm overcome with lust and fear and love. I know she loves me -- she said so. We just need to break through and be together. If it doesn't happen soon, I'm afraid I'll lose her forever.

Anastasia was fun. She was experienced with her tongue, with her hands. She was soft and she was warm. But she was nothing more than an old associate, and I was nothing more to her than a single fun night. We are strangers to each other.

It's Ella that I want.

"I asked you to speak when spoken to," I say. "Answer my question."

"Yes, sir. I am a virgin." She pretends that her face isn't going red.

"I know you've kissed men," I say. "But have you ever been touched, anywhere?"

Her hand tightens around her toast, sending crumbs falling onto the plate. She shakes her head.

I raise an eyebrow curiously. "Have you ever even touched yourself?"

"No," she admits softly. "I was always...fearful."

The embarrassed honesty in her voice catches me by surprise, but it disappears as fast as it arrived. She goes expressionless again.

"By the end of this trip," I declare, "you aren't going to be a virgin."

She raises an eyebrow. "Is that a threat, you motherfucker?"

In a flash, I stand up, walk over to her, and take her throat in my hand. I don't squeeze, at all. I only hold her lightly, showing that my hand can curl around her delicate little neck with ease.

She stares up at me, eyes wide.

"You've gotten too bold," I say, leaning down so our noses brush. "It drives me mad."

She gently places both hands on mine, but she doesn't pull my hand off. She doesn't need to; it isn't constricting her at all. Her delicate touch makes my cock throb, but now isn't the time. I've only just declared that I'm going to take her virginity; it can't happen literally right now.

We have to play a bit more.

I place a gentle kiss on her forehead. "It's not a threat," I say. "I'm not doing anything against your will. I love you. You're going to realize that and beg me for it."

"So it's a challenge," she whispers.

I lean down further and lightly brush my lips against her ear as I say, "It's a promise."