Captivated by the deadly mafia boss

Kasia

Dominik’s quiet on the drive home from the club, so I’ve left him to his thoughts. Whatever his meeting was about has left him in a dark mood.

He pulls his phone out and grumbles while he’s firing off text messages.

“Has something happened?” I ask as the SUV parks in front of the house. It’s late, and I’m tired. Dominik didn’t keep me at the club for much longer after his meeting. His mood had soured, I think.

The driver gets out of the car once we’re parked.

“Nothing new,” he says, but I sense there’s more. He’s not telling me everything.

I don’t push. It’s been a good night. I don’t want to ruin it with anger. There’s been so much of that over the years in my life, I don’t want to carry any more of it into my future. I won’t delude myself with the idea that I’ll have a happy, love-filled marriage, but we don’t have to be enemies.

It’s that idea I’m grasping onto. I just don’t want to be hated anymore.

Dominik climbs out of the car and grabs my hand, tugging me out with him.

I watch him as we walk up the stairs to the house. His jaw is tense, his back is locked up. There’s more tension than when we left home earlier.

Home. That’s what this place is for me now. My home.

As soon as we’re inside the house, the door’s closed and locked, he turns on me, walking me into the front door and caging me in with his arms. I can smell the brandy on his breath, and it intoxicates me.

“We should go upstairs,” he says, kissing me hard, like he’s been waiting all night to do this. To get his mouth on mine. I bring my hands up to his hips, holding him to me. I’ve been waiting all night, too.

“It’s not safe here? I thought you said your men know not to watch what’s not their business?” I tease, hoping to bring some light to his dark.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe here.” He captures my face in both hands. “You’re safe with me, Kasia.”

The weight of his words pins me in place.

He kisses my forehead, then grabs my hand again. “Upstairs, wife.” He emphasizes the last word.

I see a flicker of a shadow in the kitchen. Margaret’s still here, and I don’t want to put her in a position where she sees or hears something uncomfortable, so I follow him upstairs without any further teasing.

Once we’re in his bedroom, though, I untangle my hand from his and step away, flicking my hair over my shoulder.

“I’m pretty tired, Dominik.” I fake a yawn. “Maybe I’ll just head to bed.”

His eyes nail my feet to the floor. With purposeful, slow steps he stalks toward me. A lion to his prey. My heart beats out a loud melody against my chest and my mouth dries.

When he reaches me, he grabs the small handbag from my hand and tosses it to the dresser. With both hands he grabs my shoulders and spins me around. I can see his face in the mirror, his lips are pressed into a thin line, his eyes set firmly on me.

He picks up my hair and pushes it over my shoulders, exposing my back to him. The zipper of my dress lowers, while his gaze rises to meet mine in the mirror. The little straps of the dress sag down my shoulders. With a featherlike touch, he skims his fingers over my shoulders, pushing the straps down completely. The dress, a simple, black, deep-cut dress, falls to my feet.

I stand in front of him in only my black strapless bra and panties. He licks his lips.

With a flick of his fingers on my bra, the clips are unfastened, and it falls away from my body. I move to catch it, to hold it to me, but he grabs my arms, pinning them to my side.

“Are you trying to deny me, Kasia?” His voice is heavy, raw.

I catch his gaze in the mirror again and a shiver runs along my spine. His fierce expression should spread terror through me, instead of making my panties so damn wet for him.

“If I am?” I can’t help but tease him again. This is a game we’re playing, and no matter who loses, we’ll both win.

His lips crack into a wide grin and he steps closer to me, until his hard cock is pressed against my ass cheeks. “What do you think will happen?” he asks, wrapping an arm around me and cupping my breast. “Do you think you’re allowed to deny me?” Two fingers close around my nipple and pinch, bringing with it a glorious burn.

I shake my head.

“No?” He twists my nipple and pulls forward. The intensity makes me gasp, but I don’t try to pull away.

“No,” I finally manage to say.

He lets go and kisses the side of my cheek. “Good girl. Let’s try another question.” His hand roams to my other breast. “What happens when you’re a bad girl, Kasia?”

His fingers close tight, he pulls right away giving me no chance to grow accustomed to the sensation. I lean forward a bit, trying to lessen the pressure, but he’s pressed to me so hard, I have nowhere to go.

“What happens to bad girls, Kasia?” he asks again, scraping his teeth along my shoulder.

“You punish them,” I say while sucking in a breath.

“How do I punish you?” He gets more specific, lessening his grip.

I drag my gaze back to the mirror and find him staring at me. That same dangerous look in his eyes.

“You deny me pleasure.” I answer him firmly. I won’t lose this game. If he’s looking for a reason to punish me, he won’t find one. I’ll take what he dishes out, but I will not be denied.

“No, Kasia. I deny you release. I’ll give you all the pleasure you want.” He spreads his fingers out on my stomach, pushing me against him more. “But you were a good girl tonight, Kasia.” He moves from my stomach, reaching into the pocket of his pants.

I tense at the sight of a pocketknife in his hands.

“Don’t worry,” he kisses my cheek. “You’re safe here, remember. You’re safe with me.” He kisses me again, a tender gesture as he slides the blade between my hip and the thin strap of my panties. With one arm now draped over my chest, pinning me to him, he swipes the knife, easily cutting the strap then moving to my other hip. Again, he cuts the fabric then tosses the knife onto the dresser.

“Such a pretty girl,” he whispers into my ear, pulling the remnants of my panties from between my legs and dropping them to the ground.

The darkness in him reaches his eyes, I can sense it with his touch. He needs this, he needs to have this control, to have me bend to his will. What surprises me is how much I crave it too. I want to calm his storm, and I want to lose myself in it at the same time.

I reach over my shoulder and cup his cheek. At first, he stiffens, but then softens, leaning into my hand.

“I’m safe here.” I stare at him in the mirror. The heat I see, the hunger screaming at me in his reflection kicks my heart into a gallop. I swallow back a little gasp when he cups my breast again.

“You’re stronger than you think, my Kasia.” He lowers his mouth to my neck, scraping his teeth over my skin again. A shot of electricity jolts me, and I feel alive. More alive than I have in a long time.

It’s not just that he says these things, it’s that I believe him. It’s that I know he believes them.

He grabs hold of my arm and spins me to face him. “I’m going to show you what a brave girl you really are.” He walks me backward until my ass hits the dresser. “Down, my Kasia. Kneel for me.” He presses lightly on my shoulders and I sink to the floor for him. Kneeling at his feet, looking up at him, wondering what he wants from me next. Because I want to give it to him. I want to make this good for him. To make him forget his stress.

He runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “Such a pretty mouth. I wonder how pretty you’ll be with my cock stuffed inside it.” His other hand works his belt open and he tugs his pants down until his cock is freed.

I try to move back, but I have nowhere to go. Still holding my head, he presses me against the dresser. I’m trapped.

“Open for me, Kasia.” He fists his cock with one hand, bringing the tip to my lips. There’s a pearl of moisture that is too tempting not to lick away.

He hisses as though I’ve hurt him with my tongue on his dick.

“Open.” This order is rougher, his fingers tighten in my hair.

I bring my hand up, ready to wrap it around his shaft, but he brushes it away.

“No. Put your hands on your knees. I want just your mouth, Kasia. I’m going to fuck it and fuck it hard. If you do a good job, I’ll stuff my cock in your pussy next. It’s wet for me, isn’t it? You’re waiting for me to fuck you hard?” He switches between Polish and English as he talks, but I manage to keep up well enough to understand him.

I open my mouth and steel myself for whatever he’s going to do to me. This is his moment. He may hurt me, but he won’t harm me.

He doesn’t need to tell me that or explain it. It’s just there, written in his eyes.

“Fuck.” A buzzing sounds and he pulls his phone out of the pocket of his pants, throwing it onto the bed without looking at it.

There’s no warning. He plows into my mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of my throat. I swallow, sputter, trying to catch my breath, but my husband isn’t gentle. He never promised he would be.

I press my fingernails into my thighs, taking the face fucking he’s dishing out. Again, he pushes down my throat and I swallow, but it doesn’t help. I gag. He pulls out enough for me to get my breath, but that’s it. The moment I’m better, he shoves himself down me again.

“Mouth stuffed with my cock,” he mutters above me, thrusting again. “So… fuck…” his words trail off into a groan.