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I hear voices as if from far away. "What did you do to her?" A man’s voice—not Michael, one of his brothers maybe—asks.
"It’s for her own good. I told you already," Michael rumbles back. "Don’t question me again,fratellino."
"I must warn you again that what you are doing is unethical, and goes against everything my profession stands for." A woman’s voice, this time. Her tone is filled with concern. For me? What’s happening? What is he doing to me?
I try to stir, and must succeed, for the next moment, Michael’s breath brushes my cheek. His scent fills my senses as he presses a kiss to my forehead. "Shh, baby," he murmurs, "you’re safe with me."
I shouldn’t believe him. Why the hell do Iwantto believe him? Why do I still trust him? I swallow, try to ask him…but can't seem to string the words into a sentence. I turn my face toward him, and his warmth envelops me. His arms come around me and he hauls me close to his chest. I try to open my eyes, but my eyelids are weighed down.
"Go on, Doc," his voice rumbles, "don’t delay further."
"I must formally record the fact that I am doing this under duress."
"You are boring me, Doc." Michael’s voice is impatient, "If it weren’t for the fact that my brother, here, seems to have taken a shine to you, I’d have killed you by now."
I sense the woman stiffen in shock. Huh? You’d think she’d be used to the ways of the Mafia if she works for them? Or maybe she doesn’t? Is that why she sounds so…above-board…so normal? Enough to protest against whatever it is that Michael wants done to me? Holy shit, what does he want her to do to me? Whatever it is, it can’t be good. But I do trust him, don’t I? I had told him so… So why is it that all my instincts insist that I don’t want whatever it is that is going to happen? I try to push against him, but his arms tighten.
"Doc," he growls, "do it now."
Wh-a-t the—I open my mouth to protest, but his mouth covers mine, and the kiss… OMG, his kiss is soft, tender, sweet… WTF? Michael Byron Domenico Sovrano can kiss with so much emotion? So much tenderness…so much…devotion? He swipes his tongue across the seam of my lips and I open my mouth. He slides his tongue over mine, deepens the kiss, opens himself up so his presence seems to invade my mouth, my throat, my chest… Every cell in my body is filled with Michael. Michael. Michael. I sink into the kiss, surrender to his strength, his complete dominance, that absolute force that is my husband. I push into him, aching to be near him, wanting to be closer to him, needing to feel his skin on mine. He brushes the hair away from my ear, holds it to the side, then grips my jaw, holding me in place.
Something—no, someone—pulls back my ear… The same ear from which he had brushed away my hair. Something pricks me behind my ear. I stiffen, try to turn, but his grip on my jaw tightens. He licks into my mouth and my belly trembles. My pussy clenches, my thighs spasm, and I moan deep in my throat, thrust up and into him. He drags his arm over my butt, grasps the curve of my hip and holds me immobile as he thrusts his tongue in and out of my mouth, in and out. His complete mastery over me something I cannot deny as my head lolls back and I surrender to him, as he deepens the kiss even further. Even as I sense another prick behind my ear…this one a pin-prick that I might have missed if it were not for the fact that a part of me is still resisting him, the part that has allowed me to survive thus far. The part that insists I give in to his ministrations now—or at least, pretend to. That part insists that I close my eyes and drift with the warmth, the comfort that he provides. I allow his presence to engulf me, let the darkness pull me under.
When I awake, I am in his bed and it’s dark outside. I sit up, and when a shape looms over me, I scream.
