Page 104 of Dirty Mafia Sinner

His footsteps quicken behind me.

I reach it but not fast enough, and as a shriek escapes me, he slams into my back and pins me against it. Bucking wildly, I attempt to dislodge his massive weight.

“Keep rubbing your ass against my dick like that and your pussy will weep when I fuck you.” He thrusts forward, and I feel every inch of his massive erection.

And then, spurred on by some inner demon, I slowly roll my bottom against him in response.

His hiss is music. Hard rock.

I almost smile because clearly insanity’s taken hold. But then I’m plucked off my feet, dropped facedown onto a long padded bench, and positioned to his liking before he straddles my hips, and with very little effort, pins my arms overhead.

Water from his suit drips onto the curve of my ass, and the bench beneath me vibrates from my pounding heart.

“How did you find me?”

He wiggles something in front of my face for me to see—my black bikini top. Oh, sweet hell. I’m so worked up, and because it weighs practically nothing, I wasn’t even aware it’d fallen off.

Given his breast obsession, why didn’t he roll me out on my back? I’m still beneath him, cognizant these aren’t the kind of thoughts I should be having right now.

“The beach would have been a better choice.” His voice rumbles. “More space to chase you down like a wild gazelle.”

My breath hitches, and I’m suddenly lightheaded.

“Ask me what I’d do next,” he murmurs darkly in my ear.

My voice quivers as I reply, “What would you do next?”

“Mark you. Claim you. Show you in every damn way imaginable that you’re mine.”

Everything around me pauses. My mind drifts, leaving my body to float in a sea of what-ifs. What if he really means it? What if our undeniable connection leads to something deeper, something lasting? What if he actually cares about me?

“Don’t fucking move, capisci?”

I nod.

He lifts off me, and movement rustles behind me. Anticipation tingles up my spine. “What will you do?”

His tone is downright sinister. “Toughen you up.”

Alarmed, I glance over my shoulder.

Oh God. His jaw’s tight with intent. His white shirt clings to his muscles and outlines every inch of his powerful frame as he rolls up his sleeves. The belt he’s holding sways in the air between us.

“Are you about to spank me?”

“Fuck yeah.”

The idea excites him. “Will it hurt?” Because my skin stung when I marked my breasts with the same leather belt, though his reaction to the sight was worth it.

“You need to be broken in.”

My eyes widen. “What does that mean?”

“I’ve been too fucking careful with you, and it’s time I stop holding back.”

My throat goes dry. He whipped those brunettes while I watched. Forced his cock down my throat. Choked me. And that was him holding back?

“Violence is who I am. I can’t have you casting doe eyes at me every time I knife some stranzo or worse. Tonight, you’ll dance the fine line between pain and pleasure.”