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I'm notorious for that, for overanalyzing things after the fact and thinking of better ways I could have responded. It seems like so far my modus operandi around Massimo is to freeze up and wordlessly obey every order the man gives me.
I don't know what it is about him, but I should be more afraid knowing that a man like him is watching me. I should have asked a hell of a lot more questions and been more outraged at his order to take me home. What kind of idiot am I to get into the car with a man I don't even know? Yeah, I know his name, but that's about it.
I don't know why I never thought to do it before, but I fire up my laptop and type Massimo’s name into the search bar. My eyes widen when the results pop up. He’s the son of the city's most notorious crime lord, Vitale Russo. According to the searches, Vitale is the head of the Italian Mafia here in the States, which means that Massimo is the mafia prince who’s set to inherit his father's throne. He’s an only child, so he's the only heir to the criminal empire.
That explains the aura of darkness and power that seems to surround him. My heart drops. How the hell did I garner the attention of the mafia prince?
I may not have had strong parental guidance growing up, but I've lived in the city long enough to know that Massimo is not the kind of man an innocent young girl should get involved with. He’s too dangerous.
But, wait, it's not like I am involved with him. I haven't done anything to encourage him. The man just admitted to watching me and keeps showing up out of nowhere whenever it suits him. And despite the dangerous vibes he gives off, I don't feel like he would hurt me.
The way he looks at me, I think I know what he wants from me, and my cheeks flush at the knowledge, especially when I have to acknowledge that my traitorous body wants that too.
I haven't been able to get my mind off the man since the first night he somehow made his way into the massage parlor undetected and assaulted me with those fiery blue eyes.
I close my laptop and stare into the darkness of my studio apartment as I chew on my lips. Maybe he will just leave me alone if I tell him once and for all that I'm not interested. Yeah, I have no interest in getting involved with him. I want a simple life with my own little cottage out in the country, and that will never happen if I stay on the mafia prince’s radar. Hell, I don't even know how I got there, but I couldn't be unluckier because Massimo is so not the type of man whose attention I want on me.
I nod my head to myself as if it's all settled. Yes, that's what I'll do. If Massimo shows up again, I'll just tell him as politely as I can to please leave me alone. Surely, he will if I ask him nicely?
My mind might know what's best for me, but my subconscious obviously doesn’t because when I fall asleep, I dream of fiery blue eyes hovering over me.
I wake up sweating and aching and frustrated. I know some girls touch themselves to relieve aches, but I've tried that before and I've never been able to reach that pinnacle of pleasure.
I try to go back to sleep, but it's to no avail. My body is throbbing with need, so I finally kick off my covers and put my hands under the band of my panties. I rub my aching clit in little circles, my eyes closed as I replay the images from the dream I just had. Massimo’s fiery blue eyes blaze down on me. His lips skate over my skin. His breath is in my ear as his body strokes in and out of me.
I feel the pressure between my legs building and building higher than it ever has before. I imagine his blue eyes again and hear the way he calls me Gracie in that deep, velvety voice. Tingles shoot throughout my body from that point I’m stroking, and I arch my hips up into my hand, chasing the feeling. “Massimo!” I gasp out his name as my entire body convulses and I’m suddenly wracked with pleasure so intense that I momentarily see stars.
I have to stop rubbing myself as moisture floods my fingers and my swollen bud becomes too sensitive to withstand touch. I fall back against the bed and stare up at the ceiling with wide eyes, my lips parted in awe.
So that's what it feels like. If feels that good on my own, what would it feel like with a man’s cock inside of me? With Massimo’s cock inside me?
My face flames when I realize Massimo was the mental stimulation I needed to get off.
Massimo.
The mafia prince.
The dangerous man who I have no business messing around with.
The powerful man whose attention I don't want.
I am so fucked.
Massimo
“Fuck!” I groan as I tug on my swollen dick furiously. Watching Grace play with her sweet little pussy while moaning my name was enough to have me harder than a steel rod. My cock rose to attention so fast I'm surprised the fucker didn't bust clean through my pants.
I grunt as I shoot my load into my open palm, making a mess all in my office. I don't even give a fuck. Grace moaning my name while her fingers flew over her little clit is more than I can take.
I saw the look of wonder on my little Gracie’s face. She looked shocked at what just happened, and then it hits me like a knife. That was Grace’s first orgasm, which can only mean one thing. My little tesoro is a virgin.
That knowledge fills me with a sense of possessive urgency. The need to claim pulses through my entire being. I'm like a lion in mating season. The need to go over there and stuff my cock in her before some other male does is so strong, I have to grit my teeth to fight it.
I already knew that there wasn't any evidence of a boyfriend in her life and that she doesn't seem to date, but I had never dared hope that she would be completely untouched. Mine in every way.
But it makes sense that she is purity itself with the bright innocence shining out of her eyes. She's too good to be true. Perfect in every way.
Mine.
