Six Months Contract With The Mafia God

He kissed her like that for a long time, his hands in her hair, his body overwhelming hers, his mouth making promises she knew he wouldn’t keep.

When he finally pulled back, he looked at her with those dark eyes that saw everything.

”Do you miss me?” he asked.

Isabella’s breath was coming fast. Her entire body was trembling. And she wanted to lie. Wanted to tell him that she didn’t miss him. Wanted to preserve some last shred of self-respect.

Instead, she said: ”Get out.”

Dante just smiled.

That smile should have terrified her. Should have made her understand that she was playing with fire. Should have warned her that this man was dangerous in ways that went beyond the physical.

Instead, it made her want him more.

He pulled her back into his arms, and this time when he kissed her, it wasn’t a test. It was a claim. It was a statement. It was him showing her exactly what he was going to do to her.

And Isabella gave in completely.

He had her against the wall within seconds.

Her back pressed against the cool plaster, Dante’s body pinning her in place, his mouth on her neck while his hands worked at her clothes.

Isabella was tearing at his shirt, desperate to get it off him, desperate to feel his skin. When it finally fell away, she dragged her nails down his back, leaving marks, claiming him the way he was claiming her.

”That’s it,” he murmured against her neck. ”Mark me. Let everyone know that you’re mine.”

”I’m not yours,” she said, but it was a lie and they both knew it.

Dante pulled back just far enough to look at her, and the intensity in his eyes made her knees weak.

”You are,” he said flatly. ”You’re mine, Isabella. You belong to me. Your body, your pleasure, your orgasms....all of it belongs to me. And we both know you wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He kissed her again, and at the same time, his hands pushed her underwear aside and two fingers slipped inside her.

Isabella gasped against his mouth as he found her already wet, already ready for him.

”So fucking wet,” he said with satisfaction. ”You miss me? Your pussy missed me. That’s better than any words.”

He finger-fucked her slowly, deliberately, building her arousal with maddening patience. His thumb found her clit and circled it while his fingers worked inside her, and Isabella’s head fell back against the wall.

”Oh God,” she whimpered.

”Not God,” Dante said. ”Just me. Say my name.”

”Dante,” she gasped as his pace increased.

”Again.”

”Dante, please....”

”Please what? Please stop? Or please make you come?”

”Please,” she begged, not even knowing what she was begging for anymore.

He worked her toward orgasm with absolute focus, his body against hers, his fingers inside her, his mouth on her shoulder. By the time she came, it was violent, her entire body convulsing against the wall, her hands gripping his shoulders, his name torn from her throat.

And he just kept going, working her through it, extending her pleasure until she was oversensitive and whimpering.

Only then did he remove his fingers and step back.

”Bedroom,” he commanded. ”Now.”

Isabella moved on shaking legs toward her bedroom, and Dante followed, his shoes and pants already coming off.

The moment they reached the bed, he had her on her back, and he was settling between her legs.

”I’m going to take my time with you,” he said, and then his mouth was on her breast.

He sucked her nipple into his mouth, his tongue working the peak while his hand kneaded the other breast. Isabella’s back arched, offering herself to him completely.

He switched breasts, giving both equal attention, leaving dark marks across her chest that would be visible for days.

”Everyone’s going to see these,” he said with satisfaction. ”Everyone’s going to know you’re taken.”

Then he was kissing his way down her body, across her ribs, over her stomach, between her legs.

When his mouth found her pussy, Isabella’s hips jerked up.

”Dante....”

”Shh,” he said against her flesh. ”Let me taste you.”

He ate her with the same possessive intensity he did everything else. His tongue worked through her folds, finding every sensitive spot, building her arousal methodically.

Isabella’s hands gripped the sheets, then his hair, then the sheets again. She was trying not to come, trying to make this last, but Dante had other ideas.

He circled her clit with his tongue while two fingers pushed inside her, and Isabella came hard, her entire body shaking, her thighs clamping around his head.

He worked her through it, prolonging her pleasure, until she was sobbing and pushing at his head.

When he finally pulled back, his face was wet with her arousal, and his expression was absolutely satisfied.

”You taste like mine,” he said. ”You taste like something that belongs to me.”

Then he was moving up her body, and his cock was positioned at her entrance.

”Look at me,” he commanded.

Isabella opened her eyes and met his gaze as he pushed inside her slowly.

The stretch was intense, he was thick and long and he filled her completely. She gasped as he buried himself to the hilt, his body pressed against hers, his weight pinning her to the bed.

”This is what you wanted,” he said. ”This is what your body needed. Don’t lie about it. Don’t pretend you didn’t come here hoping I’d do exactly this.”

He pulled out slowly and thrust back in, and Isabella’s eyes rolled back.

”Yes,” she whispered. ”Yes, God, yes.”

”That’s right,” he said, his pace increasing. ”Take it. Take all of me.”

He fucked her in a steady rhythm, deep and controlled, his body moving over hers with absolute confidence. Isabella met each thrust, her hips moving, her hands gripping his shoulders.

”You’re mine,” he said again, like a mantra. ”Say it.”

”I’m yours,” she gasped.

”Again.”

”I’m yours, Dante. I’m yours.”