Shane: A Mafia Love Story: Dark Erotic Romance (6 page)

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m ashamed.” She turned to look at him, her blue eyes clashing with green. “I hate that you conquered me. I don’t want you.”

“Your body does.”

She rolled her eyes. “My body would be happy if I never worked out again and ate ice cream all day, but the idea of doing so is abhorrent to my mind.”

“I get it.” He cupped a breast, lazily thumbing her nipple. “You don’t like that your sexual needs can overwhelm your intellect.”

She sighed, not entirely sure if it was from annoyance or pleasure at the way he touched her. “It’s more than that. Sex is primal and basic. I hate you, but I hate my own weakness more.”

“Hate is the flipside of love, they say.” He grinned before brushing his lips against hers, trying to coax her to respond.

“That’s bullshit. Apathy is the flipside of love. Hatred and love are more intimately entwined than opposite each other.” She sneered at him. “But don’t try to pretend like you love me or something, O’Mara.”

He snorted. “As if. The truth is I’m completely fucking obsessed with you. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I wanted nothing more than to bury my cock inside your cunt and fuck you for hours.”

She shivered, allowing only her disgust to show and praying she hid her darker, more shaming response to his words. “Why me?”

He lifted a shoulder. “How the fuck should I know?” Shane scowled. “Do you think I like this weakness either, Mia?”

She snorted. “Yeah, you’re the one in the vulnerable position.”

His expression darkened. “When you won’t leave my thoughts for more than five minutes, it makes me weak. I can have any woman I want, so it humbled me to plot and scheme to have you.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand why you didn’t just ask me out on a date?”

He arched a brow as his thumb pressed against her nipple almost to the point of pain. “Would you have said yes?” At her mutinous expression, he smiled. “As soon as Arvin Lovelle enlightened me to your family history and hatred of the mafia, I knew you would run away screaming if I tried a traditional approach.” He pressed firmly against her nipple again.

“You don’t understand the level of my obsession.” His free hand cupped her chin, forcing her to stare deep into his disturbing gaze. “A date wasn’t going to cut it. Even an all-night fuck session would barely take the edge off. I have to own you completely, to know you’re mine.” He squeezed her chin painfully. “You’re where I need you to be.”

His mouth was hard and angry when he pressed it to hers. Mia bit his tongue as it tried to invade her mouth, and he retaliated by drawing her lower lip between his teeth to bite until she squealed. Their lips met in a battle of clashing tongues and clacking teeth. She didn’t even know exactly what she was fighting for, but she was compelled to resist.

They tore and bit each other, fingernails digging into flesh. She raked her nails across his nipple and grinned savagely against his mouth when he hissed with pain. He retaliated by pinching her taut peak, and his mouth swallowed her scream. Even she couldn’t tell if it was a scream of pain, outrage, or animal lust.

They fought and strained until she was underneath him, and Mia found her will to resist sapped slightly when he settled between her thighs. She wanted to pretend like she didn’t, but she knew she parted her legs to give him freer access. All the moisture between her legs eased his passing, and she was both angry and amazed by just how much fluid she had produced.

“Your cunt is sopping wet.” Shane broke the kiss as he surged inside her in one sure thrust, burying his length to the hilt. Streaks of blood marred his chin and lips, but she had no idea whose it was. “Do you like it rough, baby?”

“What I’d like is for you to drop dead.” She cried out as he withdrew and thrust into her again with the same intensity. Tenderness from last night’s penetration caused her to wince, but he didn’t appear to notice. His attention seemed solely focused on where their bodies had fused together as he pistoned in and out of her rapidly.

Mia tried to shove him away, even as her legs wrapped around his hips to draw him in deeper. “I don’t want this,” she shouted as her muscles tightened and her stomach warmed with the approaching orgasm.

“Little liar. You want all of it, and I’m going to give it to you.” He pounded mercilessly into her, both of them moaning at the punishing rhythm.

Mia let out a low groan as he spilled himself inside her, triggering her own climax. “I hate you, Shane O’Mara.”

“You fuck like it, baby.” He thrust shallowly to prolong her release.

She closed her eyes, unable to meet the smug, knowing gaze above her. As ecstasy washed over her, shame and repulsion joined in the mix, leaving her nauseated and shaking. When she shoved him away, he moved voluntarily, but didn’t leave the bed. Mia turned from him and burrowed under the blanket. His lips were like a splash of ice water on her shoulder when he pressed a tender kiss to the exposed flesh.

“If you keep hating me like that, I’ll die a happy man.”

“I’d like to kill you.” She meant it sincerely. If she had the means, she wouldn’t hesitate to end his life and free herself from this torture. “But I’ll settle for you going away.”

He laughed, sounding sated and relaxed. “Good night, baby.” He kissed her shoulder again before climbing from the bed. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“I’m calling in sick. The idea of sitting across from you while I try to swallow anything makes me feel ill.”

He laughed, his suggestive tone husky when he replied. “Maybe we’ll test your swallowing skills tomorrow night, Mia.” The bed dipped as he rolled off and got up. “Join me for breakfast.” The words were a command, even though he still sounded pleased.

Sadistic bastard. She’d love to join him for breakfast and stab her grapefruit spoon through his eye. Refusing to respond was the only way she could keep from disintegrating to an illogical, screaming mess. Relief surged through her when she heard the door close a moment later, followed by a bewildering surge of disappointment. What the fuck was wrong with her?

After tossing and turning for hours, Mia had fallen into a deep sleep that remained dreamless. When the familiar nudge of a furry face against her cheek penetrated her consciousness, she was certain the last two days had been nothing but a nightmare. That hope dispelled as soon as she opened her eyes. The green eyes of her black cat, Clovis, were the only thing that was as they should be. The rest of the room was nothing like the room she shared with one of her roommates at her apartment.

It hadn’t been a nightmare. Everything Shane had done to her—and she had done to him—had actually happened. He’d kidnapped her, turned her into a lustful animal, and he’d stolen her cat.

For some reason, the idea of him abducting her cat made her angriest of all. Mia suspected it was because being faced with the reality of Clovis perched on the bed Shane had installed her in was a harsh dose of reality. Slowly, she lifted her head, groaning when she recognized some of her possessions scattered throughout the luxurious suite.

He was clearly trying to make her feel at home. Was it thoughtfulness or a less-than-subtle message that she was here to stay for however long he wanted her? Fuck.

In frustration, she pounded the pillow beside her, eliciting a startled yowl from Clovis. With an indignant glare, he hopped down and padded into the bathroom. A moment later, she heard the scratching of litter.

Her cat seemed to have adapted well enough. Mia couldn’t say the same. The shame of the previous night pressed down on her like a physical weight as she tried to get out of bed. With a long sigh, she settled for curling onto her side and wallowing in misery.

The door opened a few minutes later, and she braced herself for a confrontation with the Latina maid or Shane. Neither prospect was delightful, but she couldn’t imagine anyone else entering her suite without knocking.

She was positive Shane would have forbidden his henchmen from coming into her room except under the direst of circumstances. He wouldn’t want any of them to see her undressed, or in a compromising position, since he considered her his personal property. She didn’t know much about him yet—and didn’t have a desire to learn more—but she knew Shane O’Mara wasn’t a man who shared his toys, and he considered her the newest, shiniest toy in his collection. For now.

As soon as she saw Shane, Mia groaned and covered her head with the comforter. Even the enticing aroma of bacon couldn’t make her lift the covers to face him just yet. She was vaguely aware of him tugging at the blanket, but was determined to ignore him.

Her resolve weakened when an unexpected prick of a needle in her arm made her yelp. She jumped up in a sudden motion, clutching the blanket to her chest. “What the hell was that?” Had he drugged her? For what purpose? Her stomach dipped as she imagined several scenarios, and none of them pleasant. The most likely seemed to be he planned to move her to another location. More remote and even less likely to offer escape? Nausea twisted in her stomach at the thought.

He rubbed the spot he’d injected before capping the syringe. “Calm down, Mia. It’s Depo-Provera.”

She frowned. “That sounds familiar.”

“The birth control shot.”

Mia glared at him. “How dare you?”

He arched a brow. “You want to have a baby?”

“No, of course not, especially with you.” She scowled. “For all you know, I’m already taking it, or on the pill. You could have given me cancer with extra hormones.”

He laughed and shook his head. “You’re adorable when you’re looking for a reason to complain.” Shane held up his finger. “There weren’t any pills in your purse and no reminders in your phone for inserting a new ring, getting a shot, or anything else remotely birth control-related.” He lifted another finger. “The handy app on your phone indicated today was the last day to take the shot, since it’s within five days of your period starting. Glad that’s over, by the way.”

Her mouth gaped open. “You went through my purse and my phone?” A different sense of violation swept through her. “You’re disgusting.”

Holding up a third finger, he continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “Also, you were a virgin, which strongly indicates you had no need for birth control. Giving you the shot was a safe bet.”

She rolled her eyes. “You could have just told me what it was.”

Shane snorted. “And you’d trustingly roll up your sleeve to offer me your arm if I asked to give you a shot?”

Mia glared at him. “Bastard.”

“You already said that.” With an audacious wink, he plucked a strawberry from her tray, popped it in his mouth, and strolled to the door. “I’ll see you tonight, Mia.” His tone was rich with anticipation and husky with promise of all the darkly delightful things he was no doubt plotting to do to her. To inflict up on her…

Until she was sobbing his name and begging to come.

The thought left her unsettled and stole her appetite for the bacon, omelet, and fruit waiting on the bamboo tray. She couldn’t stand another night like last night. It had been too much. Too many sensations. Too much anger. Too much desire. Too much violence. It had shown Mia a side of herself she hadn’t known and didn’t like. He disgusted her, so to have her body light up at his touch, to tear into his flesh and bite him until he bled, filled her with self-loathing.

And no small measure of fear. Losing control like that was dangerous. Shane could be addictive. Every instinct screamed at her to avoid him, to escape before he enthralled her in his web of dark desires.

What if it was too late?

Shaking her head in an attempt to try to clear that uncomfortable though, Mia finally made herself leave the bed. Her stomach still rolled when she looked at the food, but she couldn’t afford to get weak. She nibbled a slice of bacon on her way to the bathroom, where she took a quick shower.

Memories of that first night in the shower stall flashed through her mind, and she bit her lip to keep from crying. Shane had been so rough with her to mark her as his. He wanted her to acknowledge his ownership. He was insane. Just because he said he owned her didn’t make it true. Hurting her in some macho display of territorialism didn’t make her his woman. She would never submit to such a position.

Realizing she was going over the same thoughts she’d already had multiple times in the past few days, Mia washed her hair ruthlessly, using the pain of tugging at her locks to clear her mind. When she emerged from the shower a few minutes later, she met her gaze in the mirror and decided she was going to find a way out today. Another night like last night was impossible to face.

With her resolve in mind, Mia dressed in comfortable clothes, though her underwear was lacy frills and satin barely held together with glitter and wishful thinking. The hot pink set had actually been among the choices left that provided the most coverage.

With a wistful sigh for her granny panties that Shane hadn’t packed—she had checked, but found none of her own clothes amid the possessions he’d brought back—she slipped on socks and flimsy tennis shoes. Considering every other piece in the wardrobe was high-quality, the cheap tennies were suspicious, but she assumed he had chosen them with deliberate thought. Likely, he had assumed they wouldn’t stand up to vigorous use or be practical for scaling steel fences.

Mia returned to her tray, sighing with exasperation at the sight of Clovis eating a strawberry. “You’re a weird cat, man.” She picked up another piece of bacon and the last strawberry. “Being a carnivore, you should go for the bacon. Or the eggs.”

Clovis didn’t look up from his juicy berry, and she sighed again. Mia hesitated for a moment, debating how she should handle the cat’s presence. The idea of leaving him here was horrible. He had been a present from Stefania for her fifteenth birthday, and she loved the quirky feline.

Deciding she was getting ahead of herself, and she had to find a way out first, she patted his head and left the room. After she figured out a way to escape, she would come back for Clovis before actually leaving.

Mia had been through most of the house the day before, but she noticed a computer in one of the rooms that she had bypassed yesterday. Her heart leapt with excitement, and she mentally reviewed the list of acquaintances she could contact to go to the police on her behalf. Or perhaps she could contact the police directly. Or Tweet that she was being held hostage and wait for that to be retweeted endlessly, until someone finally took it seriously and called the cops.

She sighed with annoyance at the request for a password. Mia had grown up with technology, and she wasn’t too intimidated. At first. After several attempts, she was feeling more frazzled. Shane definitely employed some kind of high-tech encryption software to block access. Had he always been so cautious, or had he installed it before kidnapping her?

On her tenth attempt to bypass the system, the screen flickered before a message appeared.
“Give up, Mia.”

Anger surged through her, and she pounded her fist on the desk. It took every ounce of control not to lift the monitor and throw it down as hard as she could onto the thick carpeting. “Fuck you, Shane O’Mara.” She glared at the screen as though he could actually see her through the monitor that very moment. “You haven’t won, and you won’t.”

More determined than ever, she left the house and explored the grounds. Mia walked around the perimeter of the fence, ignoring the goons on their regular patrols. She could find no vulnerabilities. Trying to remain optimistic, she entered the wooded area on the outskirts of the property, annoyed to find the fence extended around it as well.

The trees and a nearby stream were peaceful, but they had a claustrophobic effect. It was another variation of a prison. Her heels were dragging with discouragement by the time she left the woods and approached the stables. Mia didn’t expect to find escape in the building housing the horses. She just wanted the comfort of being near the equines.

Mia walked the stalls, smiling at the horses and talking sweetly, though her heart wasn’t in it. Each of the six horses was magnificent, and she would have loved riding any in other circumstances, but even the familiar sight and scent of horseflesh couldn’t cheer her.

She paused near a white filly, holding out her hand to the skittish horse. After a moment, she warily approached, accepting a pat on her velvety nose before prancing away. The filly reminded Mia of the horse she’d had when Stefania was alive. They had gone to the stables every weekend to ride and spend time bonding. It had started when Stefania married her father, and Mia had been an awkward twelve-year-old. Having a new stepmother she’d barely known sprung on her hadn’t been easy, and she had been unwelcoming.

It hadn’t taken Mia long to realize Stefania was the first person who had ever really cared about her. She supposed her birth mother must have in her own way, but she’d been a heroin addict and had overdosed or deliberately killed herself when Mia was six. Being married to a man like Vadim explained Olga’s need to escape, but didn’t ease the pain of Mia not being important enough to be worth getting clean and making a new life.

She had soon appreciated the motherly attention Stefania bestowed and came to love her. The marriage had given her the mother she’d always wanted. Despite everything else that had come from the union, she couldn’t regret having known Stefania, even if it meant Aldo was part of her life too.

Thinking of him made her shudder, and it led her thoughts back to Shane. Desperation filled her, and as the daylight dwindled, her dread increased. Even knowing it was futile, she decided to search the house once more. Maybe she could find a weapon, if nothing else. When Mia returned, she went to the areas she had only cursorily examined yesterday and earlier today.

She spent another two hours trying to find something to help her. Panic was clawing at her insides like a beast when she slipped into the basement. Her rational mind knew there would be no escape from the room. He’d made preparations before taking her. Still, she inched her way forward, using the dim illumination from strip lights edging the ceiling to guide her.

Mia came to a smaller room and opened the door to slip inside. It was dark, but she found the switch and flicked it on. Rows and rows of wine bottles surrounded her. Some of them were dusty with age. Curious, she pulled out a long-necked green bottle with gold foil around the cork. The label and vintage meant little to her. She had worked at
Lovelle’s
since she was seventeen, when Stefania arranged the position for her, but had never learned much in the way of sommelier duties.

Hopelessness filled her, and she sank to the floor, absently holding the heavy bottle. With a
thunk
, she set it on the hardwood planks, drew her knees up to her chest, and buried her face against her arms.

There was no escape. Shane had taken her and would keep her until his interest waned. At that point, he might let her go to maintain good will with her
Bratva
father, or he might murder her and feed her to the pigs.

She whimpered at the idea of enduring his violations for however long. Fighting and enduring were two traits that had kept her from crumbling years ago. She could survive and outlast him.

Tears streamed from her eyes as she admitted it wasn’t just him she had to battle. Mia had to resist her own urges and dark desires. Her body betrayed her whenever Shane touched her with sexual intent. She wanted him as much as she hated him. Hatred was easy. It kept things clear and helped her survive. Desire thrown into the mix left her confused and afraid.