Six Months Contract With The Mafia God

She looked behind her. The screen showed green: AUTHORIZED

He’d unlocked it.

”Walk away, Eve. Get in that elevator. Go back to your perfect life, your perfect apartment, your perfect company. Pretend last night never happened. Pretend you don’t want me. Pretend you don’t wake up wet thinking about what it felt like when I made you come.”

She should go. Should run. Should get as far away from this man as possible.

But her feet wouldn’t move.

”Or,” he continued, his voice dropping to that dangerous purr that made her core clench, ”you stay. You honor the contract you signed. You surrender to what you’ve been denying yourself for God knows how long. You let me show you exactly how good it can be when you stop pretending to be something you’re not.”

”And what am I?” She barely recognized her own voice....breathy, needy, desperate.

”Mine.” He said it with absolute certainty. ”My property. My responsibility. My pleasure and my burden. For six months, you belong to me. And I promise you, cara mia, by the time those six months are over, you’ll beg me to extend the contract.”

She should laugh at that. Should tell him he was insane. Should press that elevator button and leave this madness behind.

Instead, she heard herself whisper, ”What do you want from me?”

”Everything.” He moved closer again, but this time he didn’t touch her. Just stood close enough that she could feel his heat. ”Your submission. Your trust. Your truth. No more perfect Eve. No more pretending. Just you, raw and honest and mine.”

”For six months.”

”For six months.” A pause. ”Minimum.”

”The contract says....”

”I know what the contract says. I wrote it.” His hand cupped her face again, thumb stroking her cheekbone. ”But that’s just paper, piccola. What happens between us? That’s real. And I think you know, deep down, that six months isn’t going to be enough.”

”You’re insane.”

”Perhaps. But you’re still here.” He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. ”So what’s it going to be, Eve? Freedom and fifty million dollars in debt? Or six months of the best and worst things you’ve ever felt?”

She should go. She should absolutely go.

But when she opened her mouth, what came out was:

”I’ll stay.”

The smile that crossed his face was pure, dark victory.

”Smart girl. Now...” he stepped back, all business suddenly ”....ground rules. First: you’re moving in. Today. We’ll get your things from your apartment this afternoon.”

”What? I never agreed to....”

He held up the contract, pointed to a clause. Property will reside with Owner for the duration of the agreement.

She’d signed that. Actually signed it.

”Second: you call me every morning when you wake up, every night before you sleep, and any time you leave a location or arrive at a new one. I need to know where you are.”

”That’s ridiculous....”

”That’s the deal. Third: you work, you maintain your company, you live your life. But you’re mine outside of work hours. Evenings, nights, weekends....mine. Fourth: you don’t touch yourself. Your pleasure belongs to me now.”

Her face flamed. ”You can’t be serious.”

”I’m completely serious. Your body, your orgasms....all mine. You don’t come unless I allow it.” He moved closer, backing her up against the elevator doors again. ”And trust me, cara, I’m going to make you earn every single one.”

She should be terrified. Should be disgusted.

She was aroused.

God help her, she was so turned on she could barely think straight.

”Now,” he said, his hand sliding down her body, over her breast, her waist, her hip. ”You’re going to go back to the bedroom, take a shower, and change into the clothes I’ve had delivered for you. Then we’re having breakfast. Then we’re picking up your things. Then...” his hand slipped between her thighs, finding her wet and ready through the thin fabric of her dress ”....then I’m going to properly claim what’s mine. Sober. Screaming. And you’re going to thank me for it.”

He pulled his hand away before she could press into it, leaving her gasping and empty.

”Welcome to your new life, Property.” He turned and walked away, throwing over his shoulder: ”Don’t keep me waiting. I hate waiting.”

And Eve, still pressed against the elevator she could now use but wouldn’t, watched him disappear down the hallway and realized with absolute, terrifying clarity:

She was fucked.

In every possible sense of the word.