Hunted by The Mafia Boss

Prologue

Aiden felt as if he was floating in the air once he woke up. His body felt lighter than air, head heaving and buzzed by a familiar, overwhelming feeling. He took a deep breath to calm down his racing heart from the swirl of emotions affecting him. He felt as if he was on drugs-paralytic, and he must be. He couldn't move his body, yet his senses were sharp and alive.

He turned his eyes to take everything in as if he wanted to remember every detail. The walls were a plain beige with some glamorous carvings that looked sophisticated; a ritzy chandelier hang on the ceiling, its crystal prisms glimmered, reflecting the dimly lit room. His eyes caught a black bookshelf and a brown wooden bed headrest. The bed felt large from how much he could tell. That was all that his eyes could see, as he was unable to move his body nor his head to look around.

He tried to calm his breathing as a gush of cold air made him aware that he was stark naked. His heart-rate had increased, panicking for being unclothed in a place he couldn't recognize.

He couldn't remember how he got here, or what caused this. Something in the back of his mind was nagging him about something, but he couldn't recall.

He tried his best to remember the prior events that lead him to this situation. He tried to reach for those blocked memories that surged an alarming up his spine, yet, nothing. As if his brain was preoccupied to control his feverish body and his manic desire for intimacy.

His heart jumped in sudden panic when he heard a door open, sensing someone walk in. He could hear the heavy footsteps growing near, matching his erratic thumping heart. Then, they stopped. He moved his eyes frantically to see who it was. He tried to speak, but his tongue felt tangled, unable to utter any word.

The bed dipped on his left side, and when he looked up, he met the face of the man that haunted his dreams. The man that claimed him as his own and refused to leave him at peace. The man who he was hiding away from all these past years; his husband from a forced marriage.

Aiden's breathing quickened when he saw the anger in those crystal blue, cold eyes. Tears threatened to fall when he watched him crack his tattooed knuckles. Shuddering and panting when he felt him caress his legs, rubbing his cold hand up to his upper thigh.

He reached over for his length and grabbed it tightly, making Aiden groan in pain.

"You thought you could run from me, Aiden?" His tone laced with anger. A southern accent is so thick and prominent.

Aiden's breath hitched as he stroked him hard and fast. The pleasure surged through his body as it started to move on its own.

"You would've succeeded if you didn't get nosy and acted like a hero, saving those ungrateful girls."

He stroked him again, and Aiden moaned, finding it in his voice to implore for him to stop.

"Mason, please."

The memories hit him back in a flash, and he remembered what happened. How going to that bar was a mistake; how that girl pleaded him to save her from a slavery ring. And he did indeed help her and her friends in a risky mission. He remembered hearing the voice he evaded for three years, calling his name from behind, and then, everything went black.

The mafia boss stood before him, slipping down his pants with a hardened look, then his hands were on him again. Aiden's skin felt as if it was on fire that was calmed by those cold, big hands. His body welcomed his assailant's touches, craving for more as it tingled in anticipation. Those hands made it to his chest, circling his already hard nipples. He squeezed one harshly, making Aiden release an enticing moan.

"I will make sure you'd never be able to walk again." He promised as he grabbed his pulsing member in his hand, giving him another harsh stroke. Aiden's eyes rolled back a bit from the painful pleasure, secretly liking the way he was touched.

He watched him lean down and whisper huskily in his ear.

"You're mine, Aiden. I will make sure this time you'll remember that."