Owning the Mafia Don

Sophie

She stammered, embarrassed,

“I…I am sorry…’

Schwartz shook his head gently, amused. He sighed. It had been a long day. Tomorrow was going to be even longer. It was the day of the first Fight, the official inauguration of the Club fighting centre. He wanted to get back to his almost empty house and catch a few hours of sleep.

And return to the Club again the next morning.

It kept him going. This lonely road of his life.

Tiredly, he gesticulated at the girl.

“Just get in. It’s late. ‘ Turning away, he added,

“You won’t get any other transportation either at this time.’

As she still hesitated, standing there, immobile, he said in exasperation.

“Come on, girl. I want to get to my home too.

‘It was perhaps the tiredness in the handsome face that made Sophie decide.

She nodded and murmured,

“Thank you…. ummm…Sir.’

He nodded and the sleek sedan doors opened. She slipped in hastily. And let out an involuntary sigh of pleasure as she settled into the soft leather.

Schwartz got in and she hastily moved away, keeping as far a distance as possible between them.

Okay, so he was the Boss alright, she told herself.

He was also very kind and helpful.

And dashing.

But he was a man, and Sophie did not think highly of any man right now.

Schwartz noted her gesture with a slight smile.

But he said nothing.

“Where to, Sir?’ asked his driver. meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Where do you live?’ he asked the woman, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

Sophie began to recite her address. Then, remembering the dump of a locality she lived in, she stopped. How would it look to anyone, if she arrived in an expensive car at the dead of night?

Sensing her hesitation, Schwartz spoke sharply,

“Just give me the address, woman. ‘The irritation in his voice showed how weary he was and she quickly told the driver where to go.

***

As they drove into the dinghy, narrow street where she lived, Sophie sat up.

“it is okay, she said hastily, ‘This is far enough.’

‘The man beside her hid a yawn as he looked around and frowned.

“I shall get one of my men to walk you to the door. ‘

Opening her mouth to protest, she shut it when she saw that he was exasperated.

Meekly she allowed one of the huge men to accompany her to the door. Somehow it felt good to know that someone cared, she thought as she quietly closed her apartment door and slinked in, watching from the windows as the tail lights of the powerful vehicle faded.

***

Proserpina

I tossed and turned. It was close to dawn, and Lucien was not back. I had tried to call him twice. It was Christmas Eve the next day and I knew he was busy with the final touches for the fight he was participating in.

No amount of persuasion had succeeded.

Ria had been very upset. She had succeeded in getting the gardener to bring in a sad-looking tree. The decorations had gone up too. She had waited for hours, valiantly, for Lucien to arrive and applaud her efforts. Finally, I hugged her and sent her off to bed. Piers had sat through the entire exercise, looking bored. As for Claude, he was his usual self, demanding attention.

As I felt myself doze off, my last thought was that I missed my husband’s big warm body beside me.

***Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

Lucien.

It was close to 4 a. m. when he walked in. The house was silent, but he knew his security men were awake and prowling around the lawns.

He could have opted to stay at the townhouse. But he wanted to be beside his wife, and feel her softness.

To take her.

***

He was beginning to wonder whether asking Catalina back had been a mistake after all

Schwartz obviously thought so. The woman was like a leech. All evening, she had been trying to touch him, to get him to f*ck her. Lucien scowled. She was as appealing to him as a large animal trying to mate with him.

***

He slid into bed beside his wife, gathering her warm, fragrant body to his roughly. He was naked, and his member was already stiff and eager to take her. She whimpered a protest, and then, softly, her arms went around him.

‘ Lucien…’

Just a whisper, but enough to make his erect shaft harden even more.

He slipped his fingers into her warm sex possessively, and she gasped, her eyes opening in surprise. He curled them, making her clench her inner muscles in shock and something else. She raised her hips and bucked wildly as he toyed with her, his mouth descending on hers to take her. Yes, he thought greedily; she was open and vulnerable. He lowered his head to her breasts, and she threw her head back as he nuzzled and then sucked, hard. She screamed, sobbed his name as she begged for release. Now she was rocking her hips, totally under his control, and he smiled, taking her mouth as she cried out, as her body was shaken by spasms while his tongue drove into her mouth.

Proserpina

I am like a creature made of clay and Lucien moulds me to fulfil his pleasure. I am rising higher and higher, and suddenly I collapse while he holds me, only to make me aware of sensations in my body that only he has brought alive.

From a great distance, I hear his voice as he pounds me with his member,

“You are the only one who can make me feel alive,’ he cries hoarsely as he pulls out of me and thrusts himself in, again and again,’ Only you can make me feel …” and then I am spiralling.

***

It is as I am sliding into sleep, drained by his rough possession of my body, that a thought slides into my head.

An unfamiliar fragrance, a rather cheap, strong perfume clings to him, to the hard cheek that I had kissed so fervently.

It is only later that it dawns on me.

The perfume is that of a woman.

Some other woman.

It is not my fragrance I have felt on my lover’s body. But I am too exhausted to ask and slide into a deep, satisfying sleep.