"Mafia derives from the sicillian adjective of mafiusu. For a man that can translate to fearless or proud. For a woman, mafiusa, translates to beautiful and the mafia world is too cruel for beauty to thrive." Those where the words that Evelyn Marie Carters father liked to say when he spoke of her mother. His explanation for why she was dead. If only he had heeded his own words when he made the decisions he made when it came to Evelyn. But then again her father never was one for following his own advise. perhaps that's what got him killed and put the target on her back. Always one step ahead, her father had arranged for her protection but the moment she found out who would oversee her endangered life. She would have much rather been dead. Laying six feet under in a casket then to spend time being watched by the man who had taken her broken beaten soul and turned her into a woman. But her life only gets harder when she realizes he still carries a candle for her and just maybe her candle still burned for him too. Highest rank: #46 in bodyguard #76 in protection

[MATURE CONTENT] "This is so wrong," I mustered the energy to say. "We shouldn't be doi-" my words faltered as my body almost gave out, unable to bear his intoxicating assault on my neck. "You know you want me," he said, drawing his head back up so I could glare into his eyes. "Stop denying yourself." Whilst one hand stayed firm on my hip, forcing my bum into the wall, the other trailed down my side and cupped my warm heat through my leggings. I bit back a moan. His hand ventured back up and I almost let out an embarrassing whine of protest, until they were pulling my shirt up to rest over my boobs. I almost orgasmed right there at the way he was looking at my bare breasts. "Naughty girl," I just heard him mutter through my fogged mind as he took in the sight of me. He bent down until I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin, eliciting another round of goosebumps. "It's still w-wrong," I said, but this time I could no longer suppress my moan as he took my nipple into his mouth. If it was so wrong, why did it feel so mind-numblingly right?

[MATURE CONTENT] His hands trailed lightly across my skin, tender and somewhat cautious. He gave me opportunity to pull away and refuse what he was silently promising with his inferno touches. God, if only he knew the last thing I would do would be to refuse him. "Amara," his tongue seemed to tease my name as it rolled off it, kneading and toying with each syllable. "Do you realise the strain I have to put myself under to be able to look at you without just fucking you senseless on this desk?" My throat was hoarse. I looked at the desk in question, likely in part disbelief and part desire. "But what if someone comes in?" He smirked in amusement, thumb running over my thin blouse. My body reacted immediately: nipple hardening under his touch. He looked down at me, eyes smothered in lust. "Then they'll see what it means for a woman to experience proper, all-consuming, mind-numbing pleasure."

[MATURE CONTENT] a rumpelstiltskin retelling #1 in the ODD FAIRYTALES series "Do you enjoy torturing me?" He asked on a groan as his hand travelled from my inner thigh to further upwards, finding me sans panties. "Only-" I breathed raggedly as he began tracing my slit with gentle strokes with not enough pressure to relieve me of the burn charging my core. "- when it suits." "Well," he said, finger dipping inside me, making me cling to his shoulders. "For your trouble, I'm about to fuck you so hard they'll write about us." "Like a fairytale?" I asked on a whisper, amusement dancing in my voice as I stared into his glowing golden eyes. "Be careful," he warned, ducking his head until I felt his hair brush my face. His lips were a millimetre from my ear, his breath making something thrum within me. "The ending will make you scream." I didn't doubt that.