Owned by the Italian Mafia Don: Chapter 17

“Don’t lie to me,” I bite, his hand on my hip tightening when I try to pull free.

Even with one good arm, he is stronger than me, and the irrational part of me wants to see what he can do with all this strength.

“I’m not lying to you. Everything I’ve ever done so far is to prove how much I care about you. Every move I make. Every decision. It’s all about protecting you.”

I cock my head at him, wondering how he came up with that conclusion when he lets women touch him. “Do you think because you’re a powerful man you can have all the women in the world? I didn’t sign up to be a wife who gets cheated on and forgotten. You can either have that nurse or me, but you can’t have both. Remember the contract,” I remind him of the clause that states if either of us commits adultery, the contract is void.

“You think I want her? That nurse?”

“I saw you,” my shoulders sag. “I saw her touching you and not just to stitch you up.”

“Then you must have missed when I grabbed her hand and told her to stop. You must have missed when I told Matias to escort her off the property. She’s banished. I don’t want her. I’ve never wanted her. I only wanted my shoulder stitched. And don’t remind me of the clause in the contract. I’m the one who put it there. I’m the one who wanted to make sure you knew I was serious. Whatever you thought you saw, you didn’t. I am not interested in her. If you want, I can call her over so I can tell her in front of you.”

“I’d prefer if she never stepped foot in this house again.”

“Careful, Tesoro. You almost sound jealous.”

I bend down to snatch a shirt off the floor and throw it at him as hard as I can, then bend down and pick up another, tossing that one too. “I am not jealous.”

“You’re jealous,” he grins with too much realization. “You don’t like other women touching me. You don’t like other women over here.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I deny him because it’s the only defense I have. I continue to pick up my clothes off the floor that he manages to somehow scatter across the room as he threw my bag. “I’m not jealous.”

“No? Then you wouldn’t care if I called her to take her up on her offer for a good time? Maybe I’ll fuck her right on my desk, Rosie. I’ll tug those little scrub bottoms down and enjoy when she moans as I slide into her.”

I don’t know what gets into me. I lose my mind. I’m so full of rage at the thought, I see white, not red, as if I’m blinded. For the second time, I slap him across the face. The skin on my palm burns and instant regret sets in my gut. His cheek turns a light shade of pink, but he doesn’t seem bothered. If anything, he seems pleased.

I swallow my negative feelings and tears drop to my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He rubs his cheek. “I find comfort in your touch whether it stings or not.”

“I won’t do it again,” I promise. “The thought of you with her like that, hearing those words from you, imagining her getting what she wants, it makes me crazy. You make me crazy. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you for that because no one makes me crazy like you do.”

“Just admit it, Rosie. You care about me. You’re jealous of the nurse. All you have to do is admit it and we can move on with your punishment.”

I’m halfway bent over to pick up another shirt. “Punishment?”

“I said if you were to slap me again, I’d bend you over my lap.”

I snort in disbelief. “You aren’t spanking me.”

“Try me,” he growls low and deep.

“If I admit I’m jealous and I care, can you not spank me?”

“I’ll take it under consideration.”

I exhale, letting go of my pride and toss the clothes I have in my arms on the floor. “I care, okay? I’m jealous. I’m so jealous, I can’t stand the thought of another woman touching you. I hated that nurse for putting her hands on you, even if some of her touch was for medical purposes. I saw how she looked at you, as she flirted. She made it known she wanted you and it made me angry. I don’t know how to do those things. I am not a flirt. I don’t know how to tell you I want you and that I want to give this a real shot. I’ve never been in a relationship before, and even though this one started with demands which is a little fucked up, it’s the only source of a relationship I have to go on to learn. My parents aren’t good examples. They hate each other and they are only together because they have spent so many years together. So this is all new to me. I’m learning. And I don’t like this nurse because she’s someone you can easily have when I’m nothing but complicated.”

He stands there, staring at me without saying a word.

Seconds turn to minutes, and I shuffle on my feet, needing to do something. I don’t like making myself feel vulnerable. I have only been able to count on myself for being strong and being strong for everyone else. Feeling weak isn’t an option.

Who am I kidding? Weak is all I am when Ari is around. He makes my defenses crumble.

“You need me,” he says with slight realization.

“I do not need you.” I almost sound offended. “I’d be just fine on my own. I’m going to take that diamond, sell it, make money, buy my own identity, and live a life of luxury. I can do all of that without you. I don’t need you,” I reiterate.

The wide dimension of his hand wraps around my throat while I’m picking up the last of my clothes and he forces me to straighten. Heat and anger swirl in his eyes, but the hand around my neck, while firm, is gentle.

“Admit you need me,” he demands, the look of desperation for the truth maddening his eyes. “Admit it.”

“No.”

I gasp when he yanks me to him, his lips so close to mine, I can feel the softness of them brushing against my own.

“Admit. It.”

My eyes flutter shut, and I tilt my head back when he groans my name so painfully, I almost feel bad for teasing him.

Almost.

“I don’t need you. I’d be fine without you,” I lie to him. I don’t mean a damn word I say because I know without him, I’d most likely be dead, but the most important reason is that I’ve grown to care about him.

He pushes me back and I have no choice but to walk while he strides forward, his hand still on my neck. My back hits the wall and a soft breath escapes from the force.

“You’ve never needed anyone like you need me.” A feral expression morphs his face as he speaks the truth.

He’s right.

His lips crash down on mine in hunger and domination. The hand on my throat tightens as he kisses me an inch within my life only to breathe it back into me. He breaks the kiss and both of us gasp for air as our eyes meet. An unspoken language passes between us, something that settles all the will to fight in my bones and to only give in to him.

He dips his head again, capturing my lips. He groans down my throat, one hand holding onto my ass to haul me forward against him. I wrap my arms around his neck and savor our first kiss.

Finally.

And he feels better than I ever could have dreamed.

“Fuck,” he gasps, digging his fingers into the flesh of my ass. “You’re wearing my shirt,” he whispers, sliding his hand under the loose material. “Only my shirt.” His hand covers one cheek, his fingers curling to get another palmful. “You drive me insane.” His hand slides to cup the back of my head and grip me by the thick of my hair before owning my lips again. “Open for me, Tesoro. Let me have that wicked tongue you like to lash at me.”

I do as he says, parting my lips, and he gently slides his tongue across mine. I whimper, holding him tighter while I do the same to him. God, he tastes good. My tongue teases his, wrapping and dancing, mimicking everything we want to do with our bodies as our lips slide against one another.

He spins me around and lays me on the bed. I sink into the mattress, the fluffy comforter nearly engulfing me, but Ari fixes that as he climbs over me. He wraps one of my legs around his hips, and the other arm falls next to my head as he lowers himself on my body.

“Your shoulder.” I drift my hand over the nasty wound, the area swollen and irritated from having to be stitched again.

“I don’t give a fuck about my shoulder. Not when I finally have you under me.”

My fingers slide just below the wound and the flicker of jealousy swirls inside me like a newly lit candle. “I care. Especially if it means that nurse has to come back here,” I say, drifting my finger down his chest.

He turns left, kissing me, then right, kissing me again. “I love it when you’re jealous, Tesoro. It means you care.” His finger traces down my jaw, then around my lips that still tingle from his kiss. “And you don’t have to worry. She won’t be coming back.”

I grab him by the back of the neck and bring him down on me again, needing to kiss him, needing to pour everything I feel inside him so he can feel me—the real me—the one I keep hidden from the world, but Ari somehow manages to see.

He rocks against me, his hard cock pressing against my bare pussy and the only thing keeping us separated are his pants. I groan when he rubs over my clit, tightening my hold around his neck until my nails bite into his skin.

He feels so good.

Ari sucks my lip into his mouth, letting it go with a soft plop as his hand drifts up my shirt, cupping my breast and I whimper.

“So fucking perfect for me. You fit just right.” He lifts, tugging the shirt over my head.

I’m naked.

I’ve never been naked in front of anyone before. I feel a little bashful. Crossing my arms over my chest to hide myself, he snags each wrist and pins them to the side.

“Don’t you ever hide yourself from me. You’re the prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, the most seductive, and the art I want to appreciate. You are never to hide from me. Do you understand? I want to always see you.” He dips his head down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. His wet tongue swirls over the beaded peak and I moan, never having felt that before. “Fuck, I love how responsive you are to me.” He blows cold air onto my sensitive bud, only to kiss across my chest to nibble the other before sucking that one as well.

“Ari,” I moan, the ache between my legs growing.

He cups my tits again, pinching the nipples between his fingers before capturing my mouth mid-moan. He thrusts, the hard ridge of his cock expertly grazing over my clit with every stroke. A fever possesses me, a feeling of urgency brewing in the depths of my stomach.

“So good for me,” he whispers, praising me gently as he continues the steady rocking pace. “I can’t wait to be inside you. I can’t wait to officially make you mine. You want that, don’t you? You want to be mine.”

“Yes,” I admit, dizzy from how good he is making me feel.

He bites down my neck, sucking a small section of skin into his mouth until it burns. He lets go, licking it with his tongue to soothe it.

“Do you feel how fucking hard you make me? Do you feel how much I need you? I wake up like this every fucking day and go to sleep like this every night, aching for you. I don’t know why it took you so long to realize it’s me who belongs inside you.”

Again, we get lost in a savage kiss, messy and uncoordinated because we want each other so badly.

“You’re soaking my pants, Rosie. Is your pretty little cunt weeping for me? Do you need me, Rosie? Am I making you ache?”

His fingers slide down my body, slow as torture, the one skilled fingertip tickling my ribcage on his way over my quivering stomach.

This is when I need to tell him. This is when he needs to know I’m a virgin.

But when his hand cups me and his thumb rolls over my clit, what he needs to know is forgotten and replaced with hot, exploding pleasure.