Taken For A Debt: A Mafia Romance (The Taken Duet 1)

Devin came to my side and put his hand out for mine, drew me to my feet when I complied.

“You have sauce on you,” he said, and pointed it out on my shirt—his fingertip pressing slightly into my breast in a way that was, I’m sure, entirely necessary.

I looked down at his hand there. Well, apparently I’d managed to at least try to eat something.

I thrust my chest forward in his face, but even though he’d served me nothing stronger than water to drink and I was completely sober, I couldn’t help taking this in a ridiculous direction. “It’d be an awful shame if some of that ended up on that perfect ensemble of yours, now wouldn’t—”

Devin took a firm hold of my shoulders and pushed me back… then his fingers trailed down between my breasts, and he dug them into the fabric of my shirt and yanked. A few buttons scattered, and he pulled the shirt back down my arms but not completely off, so my wrists remained tangled up in it.

“You are far too smart for your own good.” He had me reeling back with a push. “You need to have your head taken off and screwed back on straight, so to speak.”

“And what’s that going to involve?” A couple pushes later, I could see he was herding me towards one of the couches. A stronger shove sent me sprawling back along it, and Devin stared down at me silently for a few seconds without saying anything. From that angle, I was starting to get the idea that he was going to have me blow him… and I was pretty sure I wanted that.

Then he knelt alongside the couch, and started turning up the end of my skirt.

Before his face disappeared behind the bunched-up fabric, he fixed his wide-eyed stare on me. “You are not going to try to push for what you want, Julia. If you intend to steer the course of this relationship, for whatever it is, then you are going to need to come up with some more nuanced tactics.”

I had ended up sitting on my hands once I tipped backwards, and it was already becoming uncomfortable… but there was no way I was going to do anything to stop this.

Devin’s hands moved up my legs first, startling me into tucking my knees up—but he grabbed them in a bruising grip and pushed them back down. His fingers slid along my hips, making me squirm, until he found the waistband of my panties, and then he started drawing them back towards him. Suddenly I couldn’t even feel my hands. What I could feel was the air over the skin that was now exposed to him, my body becoming eager for his next touch.

He pulled my panties off completely, moved my leg nearest to him so that my foot was resting on the floor, and then his head moved forward so that I couldn’t see his face… and the next thing I felt was his tongue sliding through the most intimate parts of my body.

I shrieked, which made him dig his fingernails into my legs. I guessed he wanted me to be quiet.

He was completely quiet from my perspective; I couldn’t even hear him breathing. I had no idea if he was into this… but he was fucking good at it. Not that I had anything to compare with, because most guys wouldn’t do it for a girl, and I knew better than to trust the ones who would.

I should have known better than to trust him. He was too good… the sensations from what he was doing to me radiated out from between my legs through my limbs, sweeping my thoughts from me. His mouth felt like it was pressing against every inch of my skin—except where his hand slid flat against my belly, up to curve over my breasts and squeeze, harder and harder. And then my ability to focus on that sensation, on any individual part of my body, was snatched away from me by a new wave of pleasure from his efforts down below.

I didn’t come back to myself until I was arching my back, biting my lip, as a release I couldn’t control twisted me first one way and then the other.

I hadn’t realised I’d closed my eyes, but when I opened them, feeling a very unpleasant tingling in my hands. Devin was already kneeling by my side, separated from me. He helped me to sit up and get my arms unhooked from my clothes, as if he knew exactly how I would be feeling at the moment. This was definitely not the first time he’d played out a scene like that.

He was unmoved apparently; he didn’t even look like he had any mark on his mouth to give away what he’d just been doing.

I tried to get close enough to kiss him, but he recoiled. I thought I knew why, too: he didn’t want me to taste myself on him. Didn’t want to have to acknowledge the way he’d just touched me, even implicitly.

Between the heavy meal and this ‘dessert’, I was in no position to fight him. I failed to stifle a yawn.

“We’re going to get you into bed,” said Devin, and I let him scoop me off the couch, even though I was pretty sure his hands were going all sorts of places they shouldn’t with me in my scantily-clothed state. That was exactly what I’d wanted, wasn’t it… although I’d hoped I would actually be conscious enough to take it all in. Right now I was feeling his hands on me as more of a general impression than exact sensations.

He carried me into the bedroom, which I had only briefly visited so far to drop off my bag (and unpack, on his insistence). He slid a nightgown over my head before he helped me remove my skirt and bra, so no salacious naked flesh was exposed to his eyes. A bit absurd when the man had basically had his nose up my vagina earlier.

I could see where the scam in this was, and I struggled to get myself upright and escape it as he pulled a sheet over me and backed away. “Come to bed with me?”

“I don’t need to sleep yet.” He turned down the light.

“Well I don’t need it either, you’ve just knocked out my brain with… with whatever you’d like to call that spectacular little display.” I tried to adopt a seductive posture, one shoulder and my chest thrust aggressively forward. I was pretty sure it wasn’t working but I persisted anyway. “Just give me a moment, and I’m sure we can come up with some other enjoyable game to play.”

“You need some rest,” Devin told me, and walked away.

“I bet you don’t even take your pants off to have sex,” I shouted after him, and then immediately sank back into the softness of my pillow so I couldn’t tell if that noise was a laugh I’d forced out of Devin, or annoyance. I was definitely right, though. If not for witnessing him changing his shirt that one time I might have easily believed there was a robot under his clothes, and that really bothered me, because I was starting to really want to peel those layers away and find a warm heart underneath.

Chapter Twelve

I sat up with a gasp.

It was just like the morning before, when I had woken to unexpected voices. But this time I was in a strange bed again, and at least one of those voices didn’t seem familiar at all.