Shane: A Mafia Love Story: Dark Erotic Romance (7 page)

What if she lost herself? Surrendered to him? Let him mold her into whatever he wanted and claim her as his? Surely sex, no matter how amazing, couldn’t reduce her to that?

Remembering last night, how she had clawed and bitten him, even as she had orgasmed around his cock, had her questioning that assumption. She couldn’t deny she was vulnerable to Shane’s charms, and he wielded them ruthlessly. It would be easier to just give in, especially since she was fighting herself too.

That idea was abhorrent. She would not let him overtake her and keep her like some kind of property. It didn’t matter the identity of her adversary. Whether him or herself, she would continue resisting.

She didn’t know how long she was in the dark before she heard the basement door open and him calling her name. Cautiously, she got to her feet as he called out to her again. The light switch yielded to her finger, plunging the small room into darkness, though illumination from the main basement filtered through the cracks in the door.

“This is ridiculous, Mia. My security detail watched you come in here. You can’t hide.” His voice grew closer, pausing outside the wine cellar. “You’re behaving like a child again. Do you need another spanking?” He sounded like he relished the idea.

Instinctively, Mia bent to pick up the wine bottle when the door creaked inward. The light spilled in behind him as he opened the wood, leaving him illuminated in the wedge of light. As he reached for the switch, Mia swung the wine bottle as hard as she could.

With a curse, he threw himself backward at the last moment. The glass bottle hit the wall with a resounding crash, and the impact reverberated up her arm, making her release her hold on the severed neck.

They stood in silence for a second, the only sound the tinkling of breaking glass and his heavy breathing. Mia found herself incapable of respiration, heavily or otherwise. Her lungs had seized with fear. It was only when the light came on, and his feet crunched through glass, that her body remembered how to function. She took in a deep lungful of oxygen with a small sobbing sound.

Shane towered over her, glaring. He knelt down to examine the broken bottle, standing up with a ragged chunk bearing the label. “Christ, Mia, this is a three-thousand-dollar bottle.”

Internally, she winced, but said nothing.

He shook his head. “What did you think this would accomplish?”

Before she could stop herself from answering honestly, she snapped, “I kind of hoped I’d crack your skull and be able to escape.”

His eyes narrowed. “You haven’t learned anything yet, have you?”

She glared. “What do you expect me to learn, O’Mara? How to please you? To be your sweet, simpering thing and surrender all my power to you?” Mia’s words faltered when he loomed closer.

“Take off your clothes, Mia.”

“No.” She shook her head, absolutely refusing to march naked through his mansion as punishment. Or allow the even worse things he could make her do in the dim privacy of this room.

He moved so fast she didn’t see him move until his hands were on her arms. She fought him, accidentally ramming her solar plexus on his forearm. Mia struggled to breathe as her diaphragm seized, stealing her ability to draw in air. Panic filled her as he lifted her easily, and all she could do was clutch the hand around her throat and try to pry it away.

Shane slammed her against the only table in the small room, and it wobbled with the impact. The collision jarred something, making her drag in a deep breath again, but her head was still fuzzy. She was too busy trying to restore a normal breathing pattern to fight him when he stripped off her clothes.

Mia shivered as cool air caressed her naked body. She could breathe again, but her stomach hurt where she had collided with his arm in her struggle to escape. She wanted to scream insults at him, but held her tongue when she saw the jagged glass in his hand.

“You think this is about power?” Shane flipped the shard in his hand as he brought it close to her face. “Control?” He pressed the sharp edge against the corner of her eye. “Submission?” The glass trailed down her cheek without puncturing her skin.

Mia held still, paralyzed with fear.

The glass raked her lips, producing enough pain to make her wince, but not cause bleeding. She gritted her teeth to restrain the impulse to ask him to stop. Tonight, she wouldn’t beg him for anything. Instead, she would just endure.

“I don’t see it that way.” The glass caressed her chin and down her neck, hesitating at her carotid artery.

Mia held her breath as he pressed lightly against the vulnerable spot, unable to hold in a small hiss when he pushed even more, though the glass didn’t slice her skin.

“If you want to consider this a power game, Mia, then I think you need to reevaluate your perception.” Shane moved the glass away from her pulse point and down her chest.

Mia clenched her hands into fists when he circled the jagged piece around one of her nipples. With wide eyes, she watched his head descend to cover the nipple he had just teased with the glass. She moaned when he sucked lightly before pulling back. With one last flick of his tongue across the very tip of her bud, he stood up enough to meet her gaze. She couldn’t look away from him as he brought the glass back into play.

The sharpness penetrated her nipple, making her yelp with surprise and a bit of pain. She tried to squirm away, but he anchored her in place with a large hand on her stomach.

“You’re bleeding.” He wiped away the small spot of blood with the hand holding the glass and held up his thumb to show her. “Your movement caused that. You cut yourself while trying to escape.”

“You’re holding the glass,” she rasped.

His smile was a dark expression that flashed across his face, suggesting more malice than amusement. “I am.”

With an almost teasing motion, he trailed the glass to her other nipple, repeating the ritual of bending to suck her nipple before applying the glass again. This time, she didn’t move at all, and he pulled the shard down her stomach a second later.

Mia clenched her muscles as the broken piece moved over her abdomen. She wanted to shake her head, to refuse the knowledge of his intent, but couldn’t make herself move.

The glass grazed her puffed labia, and she bit her lip when a jolt shot through her. She couldn’t identify it as solely pleasure or pain. Rather, it was some twisted version of both, along with a healthy dose of fear.

“I hold the glass.” He parted her lips with one hand, spreading her with two of his fingers. “I control where it goes and what I do with it, but your movements are what makes it cut.”

She took a shallow breath as he pressed the glass against her clitoris. It almost hurt, but not quite. A gasp left her a second later when he started stroking her swollen nub with a large finger. The glass didn’t move from where he held it pressed against her sensitive flesh. If she moved at all, it would cut her.

Her folds grew slick with moisture as he touched her. Mia bit her tongue until she tasted blood to keep from moving her hips. If she moved the wrong way, the glass would penetrate her. The safest course was to stay still and let Shane do what he wanted to her body.

She got the lesson. It was all too clear.

“So wet. So responsive.” He circled her clit before pressing on the bundle of nerves. “I know what you need, Mia, and I’ll give it to you. All you have to do is stop making the wrong moves.”

She was moaning and clutching the worn table to keep still under his passionate onslaught. “Please,” she whispered, forgetting her vow not to ask or beg him for anything.

“Please, what?” He stroked her again, paying special attention to the underside of her clit that was so sensitive. “Please stop, or please make you come?”

Mia’s spine stiffened as warmth radiated from her stomach downward. An orgasm was coming, and she could do nothing to stave it off or encourage it without moving. Moving would mean voluntarily hurting herself either to avoid the pleasure or receive it that much faster. “You’re such a bastard.”

He laughed, but his fingers remained steady as he coaxed her to climax. The shard never moved as he pulled her over the edge.

Mia gasped, and her muscles trembled involuntarily as she came with a gush of moisture on his hand. The glass didn’t waver from her hypersensitive flesh, and it increased the intensity of her orgasm. It wasn’t the slight sting, or even the promise of pain if she moved. Rather, it was knowing Shane maintained total control, and if she let him guide her, she wouldn’t get hurt.

That was completely rational in the heat of the moment, but she hated herself for the thought as her mind sharpened following the blissful release. She glared up at him. “Are you done?”

He smiled. “We aren’t even close to done, honey, but I’m finished with this lesson.” With a careless flick of his wrist, he dropped the glass shard on the floor and lifted her by the waist. “Now, we’ll go up to your room and fuck.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to.”

One of his fingers slid inside her hot folds with no resistance. “You keep telling yourself that, Mia. Meanwhile, your pussy is soaked from a quick finger-fuck.” His eyes gleamed with speculation. “Maybe it had more to do with the threat of hurting though?” Lifting a shoulder, he said, “If you want pain, I’ll give it to you, though it isn’t my preference.”

He set her on her feet and handed her the clothes he’d stripped from her before. “I’d much rather treasure you than hurt you, but I’ll do what you make me do.” Shane watched her dress, reaching out to stop her from putting on the panties and bra. “You won’t need those.” He tucked them into his own pocket.

“You’re the typical abuser, always blaming your victim instead of taking responsibility for your own actions.” She winced as the seam of her jeans pressed against her vagina, still swollen and sensitive from her recent orgasm. The irony of that wasn’t lost on her. “I’d be more inclined to accept that my responses dictate your actions if I were here with you by choice.”

“You might be my victim, but you hold the power.” He clutched her throat to pull her nearer. There was restrained violence in the motion, but his mouth was a startlingly gentle contrast when he kissed her. She couldn’t hold out against his tenderness and found herself returning the soft kiss before trying to deepen it.

A dart of pain hit her scalp when he tugged her ponytail to pull her away. “Think long and hard about what you’re doing, Mia. Keep fighting me and nurture the animal within, or give in to this connection between us, and I’ll give you more pleasure than you ever imagined was possible.”

“There is no connection,” she whispered, even as she remembered the first time she had served him. He had been at the restaurant with a stunning blonde, and she had grown clumsy under his green eyes. Mia had found it difficult to speak and mixed up their order. That had surprised Mr. Lovelle, because she had never done that, even as a newbie waitress.

After that night, Mia had forced herself to forget the instant when their gazes locked. She had recognized the unbridled lust in his expression, but hadn’t wanted to acknowledge she’d felt the same damn thing. Whenever he came into the restaurant after that, she tried to trade tables, and on the occasions she had to serve him, she had made herself ignore any kind of reaction to him.

Not wanting intimacy with any man, she’d convinced herself she didn’t feel a spark of attraction, and she’d forgotten about that first night—until now, staring into those same eyes, seeing that same expression of naked need and obsessive desire. Wondering if he saw the same thing in her gaze?

Stunned by her realization, Mia followed him from the cellar, shifting unconsciously as the seam of her jeans rubbed her in an irritatingly stimulating fashion. By the time they were at her room, her body was ready for more, even as her mind fought the idea. She couldn’t let him control her, and she couldn’t let her own desires allow her to surrender to the man who had kidnapped her and taken her so roughly that first night. All the orgasms in the world couldn’t make up for that.

She watched through the veil of her eyelashes as he stripped off his clothes and indicated she should do the same with a wave of his hand. With deliberate intent, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him motionlessly.

He sighed with irritation as he stalked toward her. “Fuck, Mia, I’m starting to think you get off on resisting me.”

She whirled backward, not necessarily to evade him, but to escape his words. Much as she wanted to deny it, there was a ring of truth to his observation. Did she actually enjoy fighting him? Was there pleasure in resisting him before submitting? Not eager to examine her response to those questions, Mia forced her attention back to the moment.

She thrashed and hit out at him as he removed the clothes, tossing them aside with little regard where they landed. His focus was clearly on subduing her. Mia struck his nose, making him grunt with pain, before he spun her in his arms, holding her back pressed against his front.

They were both breathing hard by the time he had her restrained. Mia stood still, muscles quivering with exhaustion, as Shane held her tightly. She could barely breathe, but wasn’t sure if it was from the punishing way he grasped her, the exertions of resisting him, or the tension of being so close to him and at his mercy.

She shivered with delight and dread as he loosened one arm to cup her chin, turning her face back to meet his. Mia didn’t fight the kiss. Her lips molded to his, and he kissed her deeply. Vague awareness told her she was turning in his arms, but she couldn’t think straight as she snuggled against his chest, arms still pinned at her sides as his embrace encompassed her again.