“As much as I’d like to play with you, I need you to get dressed.I have somewhere to be, and you are my plus-one.”
He lets go of my nipples, leaving them sore and aching for more.My chest heaves, betraying any semblance of calm that I hoped to portray.
I slide out of my bed and take off my panties that’re now stuck in the place I’d prefer his cock to be.I’m painfully aware of his gaze following my every movement.I pick new panties from my wardrobe.
“No.No panties.”
I drop the panties and wriggle into the black dress.The dress clings to me like it had been stitched with my body in mind, its satin sheen catching the light in soft, liquid waves.Its slit runs up my thigh, teasing just enough to leave the rest to imagination.The neckline curves low, showing the perfect amount of cleavage.The thought of how he figured out my size runs through my mind.I imagine him rummaging through my wardrobe when I’m not home, but I conclude that he probably just has good eyes.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, Master,” I tease, even though calling him Master almost feels natural now.
“Good girl.”
I put on matching heels, the last item on my list, and turn to him.“All done.”
“Good.Let’s be on our way.”
I throttle after him, like I’m the guest in my own house.“I have a question,” I say as we reach the door.
“What do you want to know?”
“Your name.I want to know your name.If I’m to be your date for the night, the least I can know is your name.”
“Adriano.”
The car screeches to a halt.It was a silent drive.I was still too embarrassed to say much, and he seemed perfectly comfortable with the silence.
“We’re here.”He turns to look at me.“You have to stay by my side at all times.”
“I’m guessing this isn’t a regular party.”
He picks up something from the back seat and holds it out to me.A silver mask.“It isn’t.”
I take the mask from him and put it on.He puts on a black mask and slides from the car.Like I rightly guessed, he doesn’t bother to help me with the door.I help myself out and move to take his outstretched hand.Something about his large hand clasping mine makes me feel safe.I suddenly don’t care what kind of party we’re walking into.I’m sure Adriano will keep me safe.I clutch his hand tighter, and he spares me a glance as we walk into the building.
The hall is a cathedral of excess, its vaulted ceiling dripping with gold.Chandeliers—massive, jeweled creations—spill light across the room like molten honey.The light bounces off the polished marble floor, giving the hall a golden hue.The walls are lined with gilded panels and tall mirrors, their edges etched with swirling patterns that literally command people’s attention.Velvet drapes of deep crimson fall from the ceiling-high windows, the richness of their folds tempering the brilliance of gold with a touch of shadow.
This screams wealth.I know the Mafia is into many businesses and is rich, but I never really knew just how wealthy they can be.A server walks up to us with a tray of drinks.Adriano takes one, and I mirror his action, taking a sip of mine.
“Remember what I said?”
“To stick by your side?”
“Yes.I mean it.”
He places his palm on my lower back.It’s crazy how such an innocent gesture spurs an immediate response from me.My toes curl instinctively, following the bolt of electricity that sparks through me.
“That’s my boss, Domenico Romano,” Adriano says, nodding at a small crowd of men standing a few feet away from us.It’s not difficult to decipher who he’s referring to because the aura around him and the way he carries himself with unmatched confidence screams “I’m the boss.”His dark hair frames his face, and his arctic-blue eyes seem to follow the movement of everyone around him.Beside him is a woman elegantly dressed in a red gown who does not attempt to hide her hourglass shape.
“That’s his wife,” Adriano adds, reading the direction of my gaze.“And that’ll be our table over there.”
He guides me gently to my table and, this time, pulls my chair out for me.It’s a large table of six, and we’re the last ones to arrive.Across from us are two men and two women, whom I assume to be their dates.
“Kind of you to join us, Adriano,” one of the men says, raising his glass to his lips.His smile fails to hide the hint of hostility in his voice.
“I had to handle some business for the boss,” Adriano says, sounding a little condescending.His hand leaves the table and finds my thigh.His fingertips run a hot trail up my thighs and find my clit, which had taken only one second to get wet.This was why he didn’t want me wearing panties.
