Secret Baby For The Italian Mafia Don

Part 8

AVA POV:

One hour down. The rest of my life to go. Easy.
After dinner, I tell Thaddeus I'll have to catch a ride home. I expect him to
offer me one. Instead, he puts a wad of cash in my hand and tells me to get
a cab, and next time, to come better prepared. He leaves me gawking on the
sidewalk, cash in hand, like the paid whore he accused me of being.
A hot bolt of humiliation creeps into my cheeks as he drives off and leaves
me behind.
As I order another ride, a wolf whistle cuts the air. I glance up, glare
prepared, and nearly jump out of my skin.
"You can catch a ride, but I don't take payment in cash."
Nico leans up against his car, parked right in front of the restaurant, his
arms crossed over his chest. He's almost unrecognizable. Yesterday's thin
cotton shirt and worn-out denim jeans are gone, replaced by a voguish gray
suit and a pair of reflective aviators. He looks like a million-dollar man, a
glimpse of the mob boss he was meant to be.
A group of women waiting for their reservation are making eyes at him,
not-so-subtly snapping photos and giggling amongst themselves. Nico
stares only at me. Even through those reflective sunglasses, I feel his heavy
gaze as it travels up my body, drops my pulse to the pit of my stomach
where my ovaries ache. The picture on my phone surfaces at the back of my
mind again, bringing with it that dangerous little sentence and what it might
feel like if it was whispered against my ear.
Let me ruin you.
How long has he been here? Has he been watching us this whole time, just
waiting?
I turn and flee down the sidewalk, no goal in mind except to be somewhere
that he isn't. I can't do this right now.
"Go away," I say when he follows. "I'm not in the mood."
He keeps coming, just an inch behind me, those long legs easily matching
my quick, angry stride.
"If you're not in the mood, then you haven't checked your texts."
I whip around on him but only end up face-to-chest, forced to look up at
him.
"How did you even know where I was?" I demand. "For a family that relies
on secrecy, nobody seems to know how to keep their mouth shut! Omertà
my ass!"
Nico doesn't answer me.
"Christ, you look gorgeous," he breathes instead, as if he keeps seeing me
for the first time.
I swear to God my voice must be at a pitch that men just don't hear.
"Actually, I look like a whore," I inform him, stomping away again.
"You haven't met a lot of whores."
I sigh through my nose. "How far are you going to follow me, Nico?"
"Farther than you can walk in those heels." I round on him again, angry, but
he smoothly backs me into a little alcove carved into the exterior of the
closest building. My back meets brick as we're steeped in the twilight
shadows. "The ends of the earth," he continues, "as far as you can run,
walk, crawl. We start walking now, maybe we can catch a California
summer."
"I'm engaged, Nico. Mafia rules," I whisper, throwing his little phrase right
back at him from last night.
"Yeah?" he mutters. "You a lovestruck, blushing bride already? Butterflies
in your stomach?"
"I'm not that kind of girl anymore," I tell him icily, sliding my hand into my
bag.
"You could be," he says, like it's an offer. "It just takes the right man."
I get my fingers around the pocketknife in my purse, and when Nico gets
too close, I flip it open with one hand and leverage the tiny blade between
us. He freezes. We are only the knife's distance apart, too close for anyone
else to notice the weapon pointed at Nico's sternum and holding him at bay.
"You have no idea what you're dealing with," I whisper hotly.
Nico glances down at the knife, his smile curved and dangerous, showing a
glint of those white teeth.
"Neither do you."
Pressure hits the end of the blade. Nico pushes forward, fearlessly burying
the point a couple centimeters into his chest.
I gasp as he keeps coming, willing to take a blade if it means getting to me.
"Nico!"
I yank the knife away before he can actually stab himself, and he claims the
distance like a victory, takes my face between his huge hands, and draws
me into a deep, searing kiss that swallows my stunned breaths. He ravishes
my mouth, hungry and single-minded, ignoring the tiny red stain seeping
into the front of his button-up.
"It's worth it," he mutters against my lips. "God, it's worth it."
My grip on the knife grows feeble, my head spinning at such a mindless,
desperate act. I'm flattered and horrified at once by Nico's devotion. I see
something familiar in him, a perfect mirror of my own suicidal recklessness
—driven toward the things that can cut me the deepest. Like him. He is my
siren song in the same way that I am his. That gravity from the night before
still pulls us together, as if we were made for each other.
Nico pries the knife from my limp hand. We stagger against the brick face
of the building. My heart hammers my ribs and my head spins like a
carousel, up and down and around. Nico is the only fixed point, where my
hands anchor themselves.
"Stop," I gasp, no steel in the word.
"No."
Good.
My knees betray me and go weak for him, my lips parting softly as he
kisses me again.
"Nico, I can't—"
"You said you want it to hurt?" he interrupts in that low, gravelly voice that
makes me listen. "Let me hurt you."
I almost moan at the thought as he sweet-talks the broken side of me, flirts
with the suicidal little monster in my head.
"You can't hurt me," I lie, even when we both know it isn't true.
"I already am," he says, catching me by the jaw and gazing into my eyes.
He sees the tears burning there, the shallow draw of my breath that I just
can't seem to catch. My silence trembles with the truth. "You want to cut
deals like a little mafia wife? Well, I have one for you. If you want to give
Thaddeus the rest of your days, fine. But you have to prove to me that's
really what you want. You convince me of that, and I'll leave you alone."
"How?"
"You let me have you for tonight. Just one night. Your mind, your body,
your virgin pussy, they're all mine until the sun comes up. For the next
eight hours, you'll give me everything you are, and I will do whatever the
hell I want with it. Listen to me," he says when I try to answer, more
serious than I've ever seen him. That smug smile and the teasing light
always glinting in his eyes are gone now. Every word is sharp and heavy.
Real. "You better understand what it is you're agreeing to. I'm either going
to fix you or I'm going to break you, Ava. And if you still want Sal's deal
after I'm done with you, I'll buy you a fucking wedding present."
My mouth is dry, my breathing shallow, my pussy pounding with heat for
this man's control.
"Eight hours. . ." I repeat.
"More or less."
The offer lingers between us. The rest of the world spins on while we are
frozen. Standing completely still, I have that same feeling in my belly I had
last night when Nico and I were flying down the expressway, a disaster
going 130 miles per hour.
"You're out of your fucking mind," I whisper furiously, then lean up and
kiss him. His breath growls in his chest, his hands becoming iron on my
skin as I finally give in, finally let the heat burning through me spread into
an inferno that can't be controlled. It burns me down from the inside out,
turns all my hollow, wooden defenses to ash.
The sunlight dips below the city skyline as I sign myself over to Nico Mori.
I learn the next eight hours are going to be spent at a luxury hotel. Nico
buys out the topmost floor, the penthouse suite, and it costs him a few grand
on short notice, but he somehow gets it done.
Thaddeus Mori might think I look like a whore, but at least I'm not a cheap
whore.
Nico brings me to the nicest hotel room I've ever been in, and standing in
the extravagant lounge area with all of Manhattan stretching out beneath
our feet, I can't appreciate it for a second. I am only aware of him. I watch
Nico's every move, hyperaware of him.
"What are you thinking about?" Nico asks, taking off his tie.
"Wondering if we're going to have enough space in here for two whole
people," I say, crossing my arms. "Are you sure you got a big enough
room?"
"You'll appreciate the privacy when I have you screaming."
I scoff at his overconfidence.
"I'm not going to scream."
"You will," Nico says, so certainly it doesn't even sound like bragging. It
just sounds like a simple fact. A law of the universe. Nico approaches me.
He throws his jacket aside onto the couch and rolls his sleeves up those
strong arms. My eyes trace the subtle veins running to his wrists. He looks
like he's about to go to work on me, like I'm his weekend project and he's
going to tear me apart and fix me with his bare hands. It makes me feral.
"I told you I would have every part of you, Ava," he says, circling me with
measured steps. "That includes the thoughts in that pretty, fucked-up little
head of yours. Those are mine, too. Tell me what you're really thinking."
I feel spotlighted. Hunted. Nico's fingers find the slit in the side of my dress
and trace it upward.
My dry wit cracks and splinters when asked for something truthful, and
suddenly, I feel an immense amount of self-consciousness.
"I'm thinking about what you'll do to me," I force myself to admit, a tiny
steppingstone toward the truth.
"Go on."
My throat works around the words, heat building up in my cheeks. Shame
catches in my lungs.
"You can't just expect me to—"
Suddenly, his hand curls around my throat and he pulls me back against his
body, choking off my words.
"What did I say?" he growls, his voice made of iron, as he scrubs his thumb
against my jugular. I gasp softly without getting enough air, those wild
fantasies playing out. "Play by the rules, Ava, or you get nothing out of this
deal except a filled cunt. I'll help myself to you for hours, and at the end of
it, I won't just vanish. I'll be there to remind you of it every day. I'll never
let you forget it. I'll be there when you're awake, when you're asleep.
You'll have to kill me to get rid of me."
"Just fucking listen to yourself," I strain to say. "You already know what I
want. I want you to fuck me. No condoms, no 'lovemaking.' I don't want it
to be soft. I want you to hold me down. Make me helpless. I want you to do
what you said you were going to do, and fucking ruin me."
I can feel the tension in him, the pressure building in those strong muscles,
holding himself back.
"Tell me why," he demands.
The angry truth whispers from my lips before I even know it myself.
"Because that's nothing like how he would have done it."
I'm surprised I can even bring Vinny up here in this room, in this moment.
But Nico has asked for the uncensored truth, and for some reason, I feel
compelled to obey him. To give him whatever he asks for, even if I don't
want to. Maybe it's just another form of helplessness, another way to let
him tear into me. Body and mind. Nothing off limits.
The room is too quiet. My own heart becomes audible in my ears.
I wonder if he's reconsidering. If I've answered wrong, and now he's going
to change his mind. When he lets me go, I miss his bruising touch. Nico
slips my knife out of his pocket, the metal catching the light, but I don't
move. I stay rooted in place, an obedient lamb gazing at the butcher, even as
he brings the knife to my body.
He drags the smooth, cold threat up my thigh, making me shiver.
The smooth ripping of fabric fills the room as with one steady slice, Nico
drags the blade through my dress. The knife skirts centimeters from my
skin, but he's careful and methodical, sliding the blade upward until the
sleeveless dress opens up. I let it fall onto the ground at our feet.
The flat of the blade comes to rest against my throat. My pulse thumps
against it, but also lower, hammering fast between my legs.
He presses me back into his arms and holds the knife taut to my skin.
"You like it, don't you? My fearless girl," he whispers, kissing my soft
throat until the skin blushes hot. "I could cut you to ribbons, and you
wouldn't even flinch. You'd let me have whatever part of you I wanted."
"That's the deal," I answer.
He chuckles. "Deal's got nothing to do with it."
He steps around me, drags the dull edge of the blade around my collarbones
and my back, taking in every angle as if I'm an art piece. The appreciation
leers in his dangerous gaze.
"You have no idea what you're giving away to him."
Suddenly, Nico pushes me back. I stumble over my heels. I catch myself on
the floor, my legs half-spread open. Without missing a beat, Nico wedges
himself between them. He's all over me suddenly, pinning me down with
his sheer size.
The primal instinct in the back of my mind surges with adrenaline at the
feeling of a man on top of me. His weight is twice mine, his strength
effortless in keeping me under him even when I squirm.
He places the blade against my skin. I go still and mute, dark thoughts of
what he plans to do with it playing in reels behind my eyelids. My arousal
burns like a fuse. With a slow, steady hand, he draws small white X's over
my body, top to bottom. I hiss as the blade scrapes my skin but never truly
cuts it, the shallow lines turning pink and angry. Nico carves out the parts of
me he wants with an actual blade, like I am his treasure map, and it makes
me wild and hungry for more of him.
My fantasies darken like a growing storm. Maybe he'll push the knife a
little deeper. Maybe he'll draw out his devotion all over my body. Leave
scars for my husband to find and complain about when I am not his perfect
trophy wife.
Nico stretches me out on the marble floor and ravishes my body in kisses,
following the path he marked. My neck, my breasts, the slope of each
collarbone. He follows the path slowly, meticulously, not missing a single
part of me that he'd like to take into his mouth.
I thought kisses were soft and loving. They are the antithesis of everything I
want. But God, these aren't. Even kisses, Nico makes violent and
possessive. A statement of ownership. He works his way down, sucking and
biting vicious love bites into my skin until my toes curl and my legs thrash.
The knife was nothing compared to what he can do with his mouth, given
enough time, enough steady, worshipful attention.
"Aah—"
Nico teases my nipple until my eyes sting. Its twin stands stiff and
neglected, begging for him to come torture her the same way.
Whenever I can't stand it anymore, when the heat is too good or the spot
too painful, Nico moves to the next, restarts the vicious cycle until I tingle
and ache all over.
Stop and more run up against each other, and the sounds tumbling from my
lips even confuse me. Without a single hit of his hand, Nico leaves me
black and blue, with tears of satisfaction stinging behind my eyes. I endure
it. And I love every hot, painful minute of his attention.
He reaches my belly, my pelvis, follows the natural directions of my body.
He drags his teeth along the V-shaped dips of my hips that point him toward
my pussy like road signs.
"There she is," Nico mutters, taking me by the knees and pushing open my
thighs. I spread open under him. He cups the soft rise of my pussy in one
huge hand. "There's my neglected little girl."
He swipes his fingers against my slit, stretching and teasing it.
For the first time, someone else has their hands on my pussy, and those
hands know all too well what they're doing.
"Listen," Nico whispers low, running his fingers in wet, audible circles. I'm
soaked already, my hunger throbbing in a tiny point nestled between my
legs. "She's been waiting for me."
A whimper falls from my lips.
Thick fingers scrape over my aching clit and the yearning kicks into
overdrive. It's so much. Too much. My wanting for Nico becomes a need. I
sit up, pulling at his shirt, desperate to get it off him. I want him naked,
want him skin to skin with me. My eagerness catches him off guard, and he
pushes me back onto the floor with one hand.
The breath knocks out of my lungs, and the knife wavers near my throat.
Nico clicks his tongue at me.
"You didn't say please." He drags the knife down between my legs. "Don't
forget who's in charge, darling," he says, pressing the cold, flat edge of the
blade against my cunt.
"Nico—" I gasp, on sheer reflex, my body tightening. The temperature is
jarring, burning skin against ice-cold steel. Pleasure and fear pulse between
my legs at the sensation.
Nico's mouth tilts as he plays with me in the most obscene way, swiping the
blade up slowly over my clit until the pressure makes me see stars. I fight to
keep myself still, muscles shaking with the effort.
Finally, he snaps the folding knife shut. I reach for my clit, desperate to
follow up, but Nico doesn't allow it.
"No," he says, sharp and sudden as he grabs me by the wrist. "You don't
touch things that don't belong to you."
Before I can try to convince him of the merits of joint custody of my pussy,
Nico takes it fully for himself. He smacks my pussy hard. A bolt of
sensation cracks right up my core. He follows it up by burying his head
between my legs. His hands grip around my thighs, keeping my squirming
legs open. My mouth opens in a silent sound as this gorgeous man has his
lips all over my clit, delving his tongue into the depths of my aching pussy.
It feels good. It feels so fucking good, it sparks a panic inside my head.
His name breaks from my lips, begging, but he doesn't heed it. He keeps
going, swirling his tongue in soft circles around my clit. When he puts the
slightest pressure, my body kicks like a shot pistol.
"Hurt me," I beg him. "Nico, hurt me."
I need it.
He strips down my defenses with the little flicks of his tongue. He finds all
my soft weaknesses and draws them out with his lips. I watch him through
watering eyes, whimpering. The way he moves below me, full of certainty
—pure confidence as he showers me in his unrelenting devotion. Like a
lover.
It wasn't supposed to be this good. He wasn't supposed to take care of me.
"Nico, please—"
He kisses my cunt sweetly in answer. I suck my lower lip in as the pleasure
cracks through me like a whip. I'm too close.
I try to pull away from him, scrambling back from the roiling heat. It's
sucking me in like a whirlpool, no pain to set the balance, to make it alright.
Nico catches me. He grips my hips and pulls me right back to him.
"Get back here," he growls. A moan breaks from my lips as he doubles his
efforts. He finds the rhythm that drives me to the edge and punishes me
with waves and waves of hot, mounting pleasure. It twists inside me to a
sharp, blinding point. Tension locks in my thighs. I am a breath away from
coming and a breath away from sobbing, and I don't know which one will
hit first.
"I can't do this," I hear myself cry out.
Nico has pushed me right to the ledge, and suddenly, I'm terrified of falling
into that pleasure.
"Nico, I can't!"
He doesn't care.
Unless I call off the deal, he'll make me. He's brought me to the edge and
he's going to push me over.
He drags me down to him and catches us in a searing kiss. His fingers
shudder relentlessly around my clit, messily churning it until my hips lift
off the floor and my thighs shake.
He kisses me until the pleasure tears through me like a hurricane. I can't
stop it. It rips through everything that I am, barreling through me, hot and
wild. Our kiss falls apart.
I come for Nico Mori, and I come hard. Orgasm twists in my belly. My
pussy, my thighs, my throat, all clench and spasm. Forehead to forehead,
eye to eye, I cry out for him as my pleasure blazes hot and pink in my face.
He watches me as if the humiliating face I'm making is the best thing he's
ever seen.
"How does it feel?" he whispers against my lips, "Coming for another
man?"
...Good.
I feel sick to my stomach, face hot and body cold. I ignore his question and
try to twist away, to get out from under him. I make it to my feet before
Nico calmly says,
"Stop."
I stand there, naked and bruised with slick on my thighs, as I turn around to
face him.
"Sit on the couch," he instructs me.
"Why?" My voice is raw. Maybe I was making more noise than I even
realized.
Nico only answers me with his eyes, giving me one more chance to walk to
the couch like he told me to. I want to crawl away, lick my wounds, sort out
my jumbled thoughts. But I obey, sitting down on the couch as Nico
approaches me.
He pushes me back at an angle.
"Open your legs."
It's embarrassing as I do.
His hand lands a hard slap against my pussy. I cry out at the jolt of pleasure
that rockets through my spent cunt and up into my greedy core. I clamp my
legs shut, but he pushes them wide again, holding one leg over his back and
landing smack after smack against my shuddering pussy.
I whine sharply and arch at the sudden mix of pleasure and pain.
"You think I'm done with you, Ava?" he asks, his voice full of heat. "That
was a fucking prelude. A warm-up to get you soft and open in all the right
ways. You have seven and a half hours to go. By the end of this, I'll have
you so thoroughly fucked, you won't be able to walk away from me. That
little peak you just had, that was a two on the Richter scale, and I'm not
finishing with you until you hit a nine. I'm going to fuck you until you can't
speak, until your legs give out. Until the only thing you know is my cock.
Look at me," he snarls, taking my face in his hands.
He smacks my pussy as he whispers his hot threats, each hit more painful
than the last, but my belly clenches, stirs, trying to build a second wave of
heat right on the back of the first.
"Do you think I'm a man that doesn't make good on his threats?"
I squirm and yelp as he finally gives me the pain he promised me. It feels
good. It feels like repentance.
"Did you think you were actually getting out of this that easy?"
He gives my pussy one good final smack, leaving it blazing pink and
dripping.
I groan senselessly, turned on again for him so effortlessly.
His hands go to his belt. He unfastens it, the methodical motions of his
hands stirring some deep, primal instinct in me.
All the thoughts that used to paralyze me—what if it hurts? What if I don't
like it? What if I'm no good at it?—I believed I was past them. I thought I
couldn't feel things like that anymore. Right up until Nico lowers his pants
just enough to pull out his hard cock.
I go breathless and still.
Nico's cock, as it turns out, is proportional to the rest of him. Massive and
threatening, and rock-hard as he strokes his hand along the shaft. He's built
like a porn star. Knowing him, I'm shocked he didn't already send me a
picture of it, thick and wide and swelled with wanting. Maybe side by side
with a water bottle for scale. They would equal out.
I realize all at once that what I've been begging Nico for all along—he was always going to make good on it.
It' s going to hurt.

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