Zahra Ariel Simpson was never the girl to aim for the unattainable, but living in closed quarters with the man of your fantasies shatters beliefs faster than the strike of lightning - especially when that man is your best-friends dad. Gabriel Antoine Lemaire was a man that knew his strengths and weaknesses well. Grown to be calculated due to circumstances he hates surprises. As his thread dwindles daily just from the scent of florals and caramel floating in the hall, he comes to understand just how quickly Rome fell. -------------------------- "I need a minute Zahra. I need a minute or I'll ruin you. I flip you every which way on the couch and fuck you like a whore." He bites into my skin. "Give me a goddamn minute." I don't give him his minute. I have him right where I need him. Desperate and hanging over a cliff. I chuckle, my nose tracing a pattern on his cheek. He's unhinged, his hips rolling into my center full of need as his fingers bruise my skin in a way I like - the hope of admiring them tomorrow stark in my mind. My voice is a whisper, my tongue slipping out to lick his lips. "Fuck me like a whore then Gabriel."

| The Mafia Boss and His Submissive | BWWM #1: SINNER'S TRAP An unsuspecting flame in each other's life. One is continuously looking over their shoulder to ensure that they are on track for the future they have envisioned since they were a child. Despite the countless times they've been disappointed, they have all the love and understanding in the world - an enigma. Because of their own past, the other is barred from ever having what they crave. The majority of relationships are bound in transactionality and they yearn for more. Despite being served every conventional need on a platter, they are unable to obtain the one thing they want. Total opposites that fulfill the urges of the others paradox - they should take the chance. It should be easy? ----- He groans into my right ear, "Come on babygirl, beg for it." He takes his hands away, a bitter shriek of irritation rising from the pits of my stomach. With spread thighs and a dripping pussy, his hands grasped my straightened hair and pulled my head back. I couldn't grip onto anything with my hands suspended above my head and my feet held by restraints in the flooring. I was going mad. My weak pleasured cries falling on deaf ears. He kissed the exposed skin on my back, now covered in a small sheen of sweat barely holding up the bra he cut loose like a rope. A weak shriek escapes my mouth as he pinches my right nipple while playfully twisting the other. "Please. Fuck. Please." I start, but the words get stuck in my throat. A few seconds pass as though he expects me to elaborate. I could barely think. His fingers return to my pussy - slender and long; the ring finger softly stroked the one spot inside me that could send me over the edge crashing, while his thumb rubbed my clit in small circles. "You can do so much better babygirl. You want me to make you cum?" He asks, and is met with an immediate nod. "Then address me by my name and fucking beg for it like you mean it." ----- MATURE CONTENT. NOT EDITED