Owning the Mafia Don

Proserpina

I watched Lucien as he prepared to leave. Frustration was writ large on his face as he was told by the pilot that they needed to wait a day; heavy snowfall in the area where he wished to go was preventing any kind of air traffic.

He thundered at the man but Beston stepped in quietly, his calm presence and sane voice saving the situation.

“Look, Boss,’ said the man, using his years of familiarity with Lucien to push his views forward,’ “Boss, flying into a blizzard is not going to help. It is dangerous.’

Lucien swore some more crude and violent abusive words that made me cringe. Beston glanced over his shoulder at me, almost apologetically. But both of us knew Lucien. When he was in a foul mood, the ugliest, filthiest words he used were shocking. But I was, sadly enough, actually getting used to it now.

Like a furious lion in a cage, he kept, pacing about restlessly and then stopped, his thick fingers raking his hair, scowling fiercely.

As always, he was well dressed and my heart pounded as I took in his appearance. He was dressed to travel but even after having given birth to six of his children, the man still made my knees weak with his vibrant sexuality. As always in a dark jacket and shirt, he was wearing a pair of pants that clung to his thighs, outlining the muscular legs and I wanted to run my hands over him, again and again, to keep him with me.

But I remained in a corner of the room, quietly, nervously studying the two men.

Finally, Lucien threw up his hands in exasperation.

‘Right ask the mother****er when I can leave,’ he snarled and spun on his heels.

That was when he noticed me standing by the door, my back against the wall. Hugging my robe to my body, I waited, biting my lip. His eyes fixed on my gesture and he frowned.

His face tightened.

“Leave us,’he snapped at Beston.

‘I need to talk to my Woman.’

Beston dipped his head as he passed me. He was a good man, the scars on his cheek from the terrible explosion that had killed Sophia were a reminder of how he had been with us for a long time. I knew I was safe here in the house with him when Lucien was away.

Now Lucien whirled on me.

“What the f*ck are you doing here, woman?” he shouted, taking out his irritation on me.

I moved forward and his eyes slid over me, reluctant, grudging appreciation in them as they took in the apparel I had pulled on in a hurry as I rushed to meet him before he left. My robe, the one I had been clutching so tightly, fell open and his grey eyes narrowed, his mouth tightening harshly.

In my haste, I had grabbed an apricot coloured, lace-trimmed, satin blend camisole, the first thing that had come to hand. I had saved it for the day when he would take me to bed after this terrible ordeal was over.

Now I flushed as I realized that I was unwittingly sending a signal to the man in front of me, a man who was nearly two decades older than me but the only man I had ever loved. He stared, his eyes hot and lusty as he looked at me, his eyes undressing me.

“F*ck, woman,” he growled and I saw the need in him, “Get out or I shall f*cking tear that little thing off you and ride you till you beg for mercy”

The hoarse voice, the raw yearning was all I needed, fuelling my desire and I moved to him, my hips swaying tantalizingly in the age-old game of woman tempting man. I stopped a few feet from him, dropped my robe and said with a sigh,

“Ah, promises, old man? What was that?”

“The f*king door is open, woman,” he growled, thickly.

“Anyone could walk in and see you…”

His eyes glowed with greed as he stood, stiff and unmoving.

I smiled and licked my lips.

His eyes fastened on my mouth.

“What do you want, woman?” he asked, in a low voice, raw with need.

“I think I want my man.” I whispered, stepping to him and leisurely trailing my fingers over his stubbled cheeks. I stopped at his mouth and reached up, standing on tiptoe and pressing my breasts, heavy and full, against his muscled torso, I licked his lower lip and sighed,

“Lucien Delano, will you please f*ck me, now?”

He made a rumbling sound if that what was the hungry sound that tore from his throat could be called. it was like a beast that had been offered its prey on a platter.

I shivered in anticipation, in fear.

With a sudden movement, he pushed me against the desk and pinning my arms to my sides with one strong arm of his, he brought his mouth down, biting, sucking, kissing, like a man on fire.

I struggled, I wanted to hold him but his controlling hands held me under him. Then all at once, he pushed himself off me and said hoarsely, “Shut the f*cking door, woman.”Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

I smiled and stepped away, trying to look cool and collected but I was a mass of nerves.

We had not slept together ever since my triplets had been born. In fact, I had not had him in my bed in the true sense of the word since the day I had been abducted. But I knew I wanted to feel his possession of me; I wanted to feel him inside me, have him take me in his rough, savage way.

Now I walked to the door and made to reach up and latch it but I had to stand on tiptoe for that. Suddenly, his hard chest slammed into me, holding me to the door as his hands roved over me, like a starved man.

“Woman, I cannot control myself,” he groaned warningly, his hands squeezing my ample behind and I sighed in pleasure.

He spun me around, still pinned to the door,

“Tease.” he said between taking my lips, biting them hungrily, his hands feverishly kneading my breasts,

“You like it rough, eh? This is what you want, huh?”

I smiled and nodded, my hands going around his neck as he sank his teeth into my breast. I whimpered.

“Lucien…” he was fully clothed but I managed to open his shirt, running my hands over his hair roughened chest eagerly, like a girl with her very first lover.

“Woman, I cannot hold myself back, I might hurt you…” he grunted as he pulled out his fully erect c*ck urgently.

‘Do what you will with me,” I sighed, as his hands tore off my camisole.

He lifted me and carried me to the sofa.

“I do not want to f*ck you on the floor again,” he growled, his eyes never leaving my heaving body. I blushed as I remembered the maniac way we had made love earlier in this room, even on the carpeted floor.

He was on me in a minute and before I could respond, his thick, long c*ck, splendid and wet, was inside me, forcing itself into the chamber of my sex. I cried out and lifted my hips helplessly as he penetrated me roughly.

Hoarsely, he grunted as he moved on me like a rutting animal,

“Woman, I cannot…hold back…f*ck, you are so blo*dy tight and…wet…for me…” and then, he was moving, filling me with his immense size, making me grip his shoulders and rake my nails over his broad muscled back wildly, thrusting into me and after the first pain of being penetrated after so long, I was rocking my hips as we found our rhythm. I laughed in wonder and joy as I felt my body melt to his and he raised his head, his feverish eyes on me as he swore,

“The f*ck are you laughing, woman.”

I gurgled in happiness and then, I felt my insides clench, as I felt the excitement increase in a crescendo, building up in my body.

Wrapping my legs around his waist so that he was pounding into my core, I sobbed out as I came, but he was relentless, ramming into me as I moved limply under him.

“Lucien,” I cried out, “My love, oh my love.”

He used vulgar abuses as he bit me, dirty filthy words, calling me a horny bit*ch, a cu*t, everything, but all I could think of was his large member embedded in me as my muscles lovingly clung to him, wrapped around his powerful c*ck, milking him.

The harder he rode me, the more it made me dig my nails into his shoulder and he seemed to become more frantic with need with that.

With a grunt, he groaned, his voice a tortured rasp,

“Mine. You. Are. Only mine,” as he took a nipple between his teeth and bit it , making me fling back my head and cry out as I came one last time.

” I …,” he said, and then, he was coming in me and I sobbed and laughed all at once as he claimed me again in his savage way, making me realise that my body was his to do with any way he wished. He lowered his head to the valley of my breasts where the tiny pendant winked evilly and he grunted.

“You belong to me, woman. You are my wife. And this is the only c*ck you will ever have in that horny, wet c*nt.’

“Only yours, Lucien,” I whispered tiredly as he held me in his arms, “Always, only yours.”