The Mobster's Virgin (Filthy Dirty Desires)

Daniella picks up the pace, but I have to teach her a lesson, so I have no intention of letting her learn. It’s time to fuck her mouth like a whore. “Hands behind your back. Now,” I bite out, holding on to the edge of my sanity. She does what I say and then I grip the sides of her face, pumping my hips back and forth, thrusting into her mouth until she’s gagging and spitting, eyes watering. “You like being my whore?” I ask. She doesn’t answer, so I continue to fuck her mouth and just before I nut I pull out, spraying my load on her mouth and chin.

She sits back on her heels as I tuck my cock back into my pants and straighten my clothes. I feel like a prick until, with a smug grin, she swipes her tongue across her mouth, licking up and swallowing my load like a pleased kitten. “It’s better than having a bastard like you inside me.” She grabs her top, taking it off in front of me, and wipes her face with it, tossing it on the floor before walking toward the door. I reach out, grabbing her arm and stopping her ass.

Spinning her around, I pin her to the wooden door, my arms bracketing her in. “I’m your whore—I didn’t think you’d care if I walked out without a top on.”

“You’re motherfucking mistaken. What’s mine is still mine, even if you’re just my property now.”

Chapter Six

Daniella

At first, I felt disgusted by his behavior because I’ve waited days for him to speak to me again and hold me like he did when we met, but he was right. I asked to be his whore, and he tried to give me the business. Internally, I smile because for every cruel thing he said, he hated himself for it. I watched the way his expression shifted as he watched me suffer or how he thought he humiliated me. He was punishing me, but he was doing a better job of punishing himself because I’m standing here in my bra, panties soaked as he pins me to the door.

“Well, since you’ve gotten your use out of me, I suppose I should get going,” I egg him on, wondering what is wrong with me. I’m pushing this man even though I know he’s a fucking killer. It’s strange because I know he won’t hurt me. In the couple of days being here, it’s clear from the cook and housekeeper that not only am I special, but I’m also to be treated like a queen.

“You forget I have something more important than your fucking dignity because you’re just like your father and that shit doesn’t mean anything to you, but that brother of yours means something to you.” He knows Tomas is my weakness and he’s willing to go there which pisses me off because it’s true.

“One day you’ll have someone who means something to you, and someone’s going to take that person away. Then maybe you’ll understand why I hate you.”

“Your father was a piece of shit.”

“He was still my father, and he loved me,” I spit out even though those words feel less and less believable every day that I’m here. I’ve been treated so wonderfully and cared for that it makes me wonder if my father truly loved me. There are men roaming around and no one’s beating down my door. Konstantin doesn’t love me and yet, I’m protected.

“Little one, he loved you like he loved my money. You were a means to an end.” It’s like he knows just right where to land the blow without even touching me. He pushes off the wall, he takes my hand and walks us back to his desk. He grabs his jacket and puts it over my body. I slide my arms through the sleeves, but it’s way too big.

“Some reading material for your ass. Just so you know, I put a bullet in him after I saw this.” Opening the top drawer, he pulls out a file folder and hands it to me.

He ushers me to his office door, but I stop to ask, “What’s this?”

“Go upstairs and read it.”

“And Daniella, just so you know I’ll destroy anyone who tries to take you away from me.” He kisses my temple and opens the door, sending me on my way. I stop and gasp about to turn around, but he closed his office door. Did he mean? No. He can’t mean that I’m someone he loves. It doesn’t matter anyway.

I take the steps to the bedroom because I need to read this, and I have a feeling that whatever it is in here, I’m not going to be happy about it. Still, I need to clean up, so the first thing I do is wash off my body. Once I’m done, I wrap up in a towel and climb onto his large bed where I left the papers.