Dirty Dom: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) (5 page)

I
cringe
as I take off my heels the second I get inside the house and drop my purse on the front hall table. Fuck, today was a long day. I hiss in air through my teeth as my feet finally have some relief. I drop the heels at the front door and start walking to the sofa, but I stop and sigh. Damn it, I can’t fucking leave them there. I hate not being organized. I lean down and pick them up so I can put them back in the closet. Back on their spot on the shelf. It’ll make me feel better. If I leave one little mess then it’ll just grow. I can’t be lazy, it’s not like anyone else is going to clean up after me. Besides, it’s easier to maintain a cleaned home than it is to let it go to shit and then have to clean it all up.

As I slide my Jimmy Choos back on the shelf I hear the door bell ring. I look down at my watch with my brows furrowed. It’s only five. I have an hour before Jax will be home. I need this time to prep dinner, which today means order out, and go through my emails and payroll. I really do need to hire someone. I pick up my pace to open the door as it rings again. I can’t keep up this pace. I can’t keep doing
everything
, especially with how shitty I’ve been feeling. I swing open the door with a sigh and without bothering to look through the peep hole.

My lips part and my heart stills when I see the man on the other side. He fucking haunted my dreams last night in the best possible way. If I wasn’t terrified at the moment, my pussy would be clenching in need. He’s in dark suit pants and a crisp light blue button down shirt with a dark blue tie. His exposed neck makes me want to lick it and feel the rough stubble on my tongue. As if he knows what I’m thinking he gives me a cocky smirk, which only makes him look even hotter.

I swallow thickly and try to speak. Why is he here? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I gave him everything. Maybe he wants more? Maybe my debt isn’t completely paid. My eyes widen. I shouldn’t be so turned on by that thought. I should be scared shitless and part of me is. But another part of me wants him to fuck me against this wall and have him leave me with the warning that he’ll be back to collect again tomorrow. I must be fucking sick in the head.

“May I come in Rebecca?” His smooth baritone voice drips with sex appeal. My core heats instantly. I can’t speak, I don’t trust my voice so I just nod and open the door wider. As his tall, broad frame passes me I seem to snap out of my lust filled haze. What the fuck did I just do? I should’ve said no!

I start shaking my head as though this isn’t real. He turns around in my living room to face me. I paid a designer to make this room look like it belonged on a page of Good Housekeeping. All cream, plush cushions and dark antique finishings. He doesn’t belong here. He stands out amongst all the clean white lines. He may be in a trim fitting 3-piece suit, but he doesn’t fool me. He’s bad. His hair is messy and rugged. His hands are calloused and scarred. His smirk is cocky and sexy-as-fuck. It’s like he was placed in this room by accident.

Looking around the room, to avoid his piercing gaze, I spot a family picture on the wall and I’m reminded of how tainted it is by my husband – ex husband – deceased husband. Fuck. Tears well in my eyes. I can’t fucking handle this. I rub my temples. I just want to get whatever this is over with. I shut the door and follow him into the entry of the living room. I should offer him tea or a drink. My parents raised me right. But fuck that. He’s a criminal. I run my hands through my hair as anxiety consumes me.

“Can I help you?” I’m barely able to get the words out.

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest. He grins showing off his perfect white teeth. “I think you can, Rebecca.” His smile falters a bit before he asks, “are you going by Bartley now or Harrison?”

I need to shut this shit down. I don’t need someone barging through my life and walking all over me. I’ll give him whatever he wants to just get the fuck out. I should’ve known he’d be back for the interest. For actual money.

A blush travels from my chest to my cheeks. I shouldn’t have been so stupid to think that he’d be satisfied humiliating me like he did. My heart clenches. Was it really humiliating? I shake the thought away. I’m sure he intended it to be. Why else would he be here smirking at me like he owns me. Fucking asshole. I clench my fists and push out the words, “how much is it that I owe you?” I have a few grand in the safe in the bedroom. I fucking hope it’s enough. I thought all this was behind me. I told Sarah to never speak of it again and I fucking moved on. It was only awkward for the first few minutes. Thank fuck for Sarah; I need to give her a raise.

He smiles with that boyish charm that I’m sure he’s used on more than a handful of women, “Doll, you don’t owe me.
You
never did.”

A lump forms in my throat making it hard to answer, “why are you here?” I barely breathe the question. The way his eyes narrow and he licks his lips. He’s looking at me like I’m his prey. Every bit of fear I had is replaced with pure desire. My core heats, my shoulders shudder under his lust-filled gaze. “I want you to go.” The words come out weak. But I need to say them.

He looks hurt for only a split second, I almost think I imagined it, but I didn’t. I saw it. He gives me a tight smile. “I came to,” he clears his throat and looks out of the large bay window for a moment. “I just wanted to apologize for the way I treated you.” He shoves his hands in his pockets as his forehead pinches, as though he’s truly considering something. “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine.” My voice hitches on the end. I shake my head, turning my back to him to open the door for him. If he just came to apologize, then he can get the fuck out.

A small gasp escapes me as his hand covers mine and pushes the front door closed with a loud bang. The lock clicking in place with a menacing tick. My body jumps from the noise and then from his hard chest pushing against my back. His large frame closes me in, my breasts push against the front door. My heart races and I struggle to breathe as his hot breath tickles my neck. His lips barely touch my ear as he whispers, “you didn’t hear me doll, I wanna make it up to you.”

A wave of heat rips through my body as I close my eyes. The tips of my fingers tingle and my pussy clenches as his other hand gently grabs my hip and he pulls my ass into his hips. A strangled moan leaves my lips as I feel his hard dick push into my ass. I can feel the wetness between my thighs, preparing me for him. His hand reaches up my blouse and splays across my stomach. “I owe you, doll. Let me make it up to you.” His hand over mine gently travels down my wrist, down my arm, down my side. A shiver runs through my body as he kisses the crook of my neck.

My breath hitches and the word is on my lips.
Stop.
But I don’t say it. I lean my back into his hard, hot body. I rock against him. What the fuck is wrong with me. He wraps his hand around my throat. I love the possession. He could break me. He could crush me. He could take me like he did yesterday. And I want it. Fuck, I want it so bad.

This is so wrong. I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t feel like I need him. I shouldn’t feel so empty and hollow, needing to be filled. I bite my bottom lip, warring with myself. It was so good. Fuck, it was so fucking good before. I can only imagine how good it would be now.

My head falls back against his chest and my lips part as a breathy moan fills the hot air. A dark, masculine chuckle leaves his lips and tickles my neck. It sends an urgent need to my throbbing clit. He nips my earlobe and then pulls it with his teeth.

“You want me, doll?” His question lingers in the hot air. I can’t. I can’t want this. But I can’t say no. I close my eyes and shake my head. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes. I shove my back against his hard chest. He doesn’t move. He’s too strong.

“Yes you do; I know you do.” His voice is hard and unmoving, like his muscular body caging me in.

I do. I want it so fucking bad. But I push against him again and turn around in his grasp. I yelp as his hand grabs both of my wrists and pins them above my head. His erection digs into my stomach as his hips keep me pinned to the door. He leans into my neck and hisses, “I hate liars.”

My eyes close tight and I struggle to swallow the lump in my throat. I can’t explain it. I can’t do this. No matter how much my body begs me for it. My lips find his neck, but instead of kissing him, I bite. HARD. I sink my teeth deep into his flesh to
hurt
him. I don’t know why. I don’t want to fight him. But a sick part of me does.

“Fuck!” He yells out and pulls his upper body away while his hips stay pinned to mine and his hand tightens on my wrist. His dick jumps from my attack. My eyes stare at his neck. That’s gonna leave a bruise. There’s no blood. Good. I don’t want to really hurt him, just …

His hand not holding my wrists touches his neck in disbelief. My breathing comes in sharp pants as his eyes widen. I expect him to hit me. To slap me across the face. My cheek would sting with a violent red mark. I want him to pin me down on the ground, my knees burning as they scrape against the carpet while I struggle beneath him. I want him to rip my pants down and tear my panties off. I want him to fuck me. To punish me and treat me like he owns my body. I scissor my thighs, searching for relief for the heated need my fantasy left me in.

But I won’t admit I want it; because it’s wrong.

I swallow thickly as his eyes darken and narrow. They travel my body with dark desire as he contemplates what to do with me. I’m paralyzed with a deadly mixture of lust and fear. His hand tightens on my wrist while the other wraps around my throat. He squeezes just before the point of too much. It’s not a struggle to breathe, but I’m pinned to the door. Completely at his mercy. He holds my body still while he leans in. “You wanna fight me, doll?”

I press my lips into a hard line and struggle in his grasp. My body twists and writhes but it’s no use. He huffs a humorless laugh. “All you had to do was tell me,” he leans in closer and bites down hard on my neck, making me scream out. The painful pinch of his bite intensifies the throbbing need burning in my core. He whispers in my ear, “say red.”

I still with confusion.
Red?

“Say red and it all stops. Do you understand?” My eyes widen as I realize what he’s saying.

“Yes.” The word comes out easy in absolute submission. Hope and lust stir in my blood.

“Say it.” His words are hard and short.

“Red.” It whips from my mouth.

His hand loosens on my throat, “good girl, now fight me like you want to.” In a flash, he turns my body and pushes me hard against the door. His left hand keeps my wrists pinned while his other rips my pants down my thighs; the fabric burns across my skin as he forces them down. I think to scream but I don’t.

I don’t want to scream. I don’t want anyone to know.

His thick fingers tear the lace scrap covering my pussy and his fingers dip into my heat as I whimper. “You’re such a fucking slut. So wet for me. Wet for a dirty, hard fuck.” I hear his zipper and that’s when it hits me. Fuck! He’s not going to put on a condom. I start to open my mouth, but I don’t. I can’t ruin this. I buck my body against his and his grasp on my wrist slips. I hear him stumble back and I run for the living room.

My pants fall even farther down my legs and hinder my movements. I trip and scream out, but his corded arms wrap around my body and cushion my blow. He pins me down as I thrash under him. My fingers dig into the carpet. I try to move away but I can’t. I can’t get out from under him. I can’t turn around.

His blunt finger nails dig into the flesh of my hips, tilting me up and before I can move, before I can think of a way to fight him. He thrusts himself into me to the hilt.

“Fuck!” He yells out as I moan into the carpet.

I feel the sting of his massive size stretching my walls. I try to get up, but his strong hand splays across my back and pushes me down while his other keeps a firm grip on my hip and he pounds into me. Again and again. My body heats as the pleasure grows in my core. He ruts into me like a beast claiming his prey.

“Yes!” I scream into the floor.

He leans down, keeping up his relentless pace. “That’s right doll; you fucking love this. You love me fucking your tight, little cunt.” His dirty words send me over the edge. My body convulses under him as intense pleasure wracks through my body. My back tries to arch, but he keeps me pinned and he pounds into me without mercy. My walls pulse around him and he pushes deeper into me. I scream into the floor as waves and waves of hot cum fill me. I lay limp on the ground, loving the feeling of being used. Loving how he took everything he wanted from me.

My bliss is shattered as I hear a beep alert that I got a text message. Reality slaps me in the fucking face. I scramble underneath of him to get up. The word is there, ready to pounce, but he lets me up. I kick my pants off and dig in my purse in the front hall for my iPhone.

Running 5 mins late – sorry!

It’s a text from Sarah. I check the time. Shit! It’s almost six. My hand covers my mouth. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I didn’t get shit done. I drop the phone and grab my pants, searching frantically for my torn underwear he threw somewhere. Holy fuck. Sarah’s coming with Jax and his play date. I don’t even remember which kid it is that’s coming over. Holy hell, I’m a fucking mess.

“Are you okay?” I look up at the sex god standing in the middle of my living room. He just fucked me for a second time and I don’t even know his name. Tears form in my eyes as I shake my head.
Slut.
His word rings in my head as my throat closes and my chest hollows.

He wraps his arms around me, “it’s alright doll. It’s okay.”

He doesn’t understand. I push away from him. “You need to leave. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t-” I can’t finish. I don’t know what to say to him.

He looks at me like I’ve slapped him. And I guess I may as well have. But what did he honestly expect. He came here to fuck me and he did. He won. It’s over. I open the front door and stay behind it so no one will see. I lower my gaze to the floor, “I can’t.”