Surely I don’t feel this way just because she’s told me I can’t fuck her?
I’ve never been hung up on any particular woman before. I lost my own virginity at fifteen, and I’ve been happily fucking my way through Manhattan ever since, first through the freshman girls at my private high school, and then once I graduated, well—I’ve been fucking my way through the rest of the city. Never once have I given any of them a second thought, except for a pair of blonde twins who are to this day the only women I’ve ever called twice.
In my defense, that was the first time I’d ever had my cock sucked by two women at once.
Maybe it’s just that you don’t like being told what you can and can’t have.
That’s as good a guess as any. But all I know is that I need to get over it. Icanhave just about any woman I want, so why is it rattling me so much that this one girl is stubbornly refusing to bend?
I know where I’d like to bend her—right over my knee the next time she opens her mouth to argue with me.
The thought comes out of nowhere—hell, I don’t think I’ve even everdonethat with a woman before. I’ve tied a fair few of them up to my bed, blindfolded a couple—and there was that one threesome that involved some chocolate and hot wax—but other than that my sexual exploits have remained largely vanilla. Most women are turned on enough by my good looks and money to not need much else to get them wet.
But something about Sofia makes me want to do things to her that I’ve never even dreamed of doing. She makes me lose control of my emotions in a way that’s entirely unfamiliar to me, and she makes me harder than I’ve ever been in my life.
All of those individually are excellent reasons to stay as far away from her as I can. Together, they tell me that she’s a ticking bomb waiting to go off, blowing my carefully constructed life to pieces.
The day that I can put her in her own apartment and get her out of mine can’t come fast enough.
Both Franco and Don Rossi are waiting for me in his office, and Franco gets up the minute I walk through the door, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Luca!” he greets me enthusiastically, clapping me on the shoulder as I stride towards the desk. “And here I thought I was going to be the first one to get married.”
“Don’t rub it in,” I growl, sinking into one of the leather chairs in front of Rossi. “The Ferretti girl has already taken five years off my life, and it’s not even lunchtime.”
“Sounds exciting.” Franco winks at me. “Caterina—”
Rossi clears his throat, shooting Franco a look that tells him that he probably shouldn’t let whatever remark he was about to make regarding the Don’s daughter out of his mouth.
Franco flushes to the roots of his red hair, sinking into the chair next to me without another word.
I glance over at my friend. He’s always been the more extroverted of the two of us, likely because he’s had to overcome a lot in order to hold any position in the family. His father was a made man under Rossi, not someone of high rank, but someone well-trusted enough that Franco and I grew up together. But thanks to Franco’s red hair, pale freckled skin, and green eyes even brighter than mine, a lot of rumors and gossip dogged his childhood. He was born roughly nine months after the head of the Boston Irish family, along with a handful of his men, came to visit. I was barely out of the oven then, but everyone’s heard the story of how Franco’s black-haired, dark-eyed father took one look at his new son and demanded a paternity test.
The results came back that Franco, despite his unusual coloring, was as Italian as a good Bolognese. But still, the rumors persisted, and grade school started out miserably for Franco. He spent a decent amount of it being bullied, beaten up, having his lunch stolen, and hearing his mother called a “shamrock-loving whore” before he made it to seventh grade and managed to befriend me.
I honestly don’t remember what we bonded over. It might have been baseball cards, or it could have been a shared appreciation for the fact that Angie Greco was the first girl in our class to develop breasts. But once we became friends, there was no chance that anyone was laying a finger on him.
It earned me his loyalty, which has paid for itself in spades over the years—and now Franco has been rewarded handsomely with the Don’s daughter, and the place at my right hand when I inherit Rossi’s seat. It’s all worked out very well for him, and I know that he’s grateful.
These are the kinds of alliances that have to be made. It’s how our families have done things for centuries, how we’ve kept the Irish and the Russians from taking over, how we’ve held our place through the mob wars over the decades. We’ve lost battles, but in the end, we won the war. And for now, there’s peace.
But the Bratva are threatening that.
“It sounds as if my solution might have been easier,” Rossi says dryly. “I hope that the girl isn’t going to cause undue trouble, Luca.”
“She’ll be fine,” I reply quickly. Almost too quickly—I see the suspicion on Rossi’s face. “The rock weighing down her finger and the shopping spree that I had delivered to the penthouse should have made her more pliable by now.”
“You’ll spoil the girl,” Rossi warns. “Don’t let her think that she has the upper hand. She needs to know that you’re in control, Luca. That you hold the power of life and death over her. It’s the only way to be sure that she’ll comply.”
“She’s very aware,” I tell him firmly.If only he knew,I think, forcing myself not to shift uncomfortably in my chair. If Rossi knew that Sofia had already managed to set her own conditions—
He’d think I’m pussy-whipped. And maybe I am. By a pussy that I won’t even get to taste, let alone fuck.
Just the thought is enough to make my cock twitch rebelliously in my pants. But I meant what I said to Sofia. I’ve never forced myself on a woman—I’ve never even considered it. There are things that not even I can justify. So no matter how much I want Sofia, her precious virginity will remain untouched. There’s no question about that. All that’s left for me is to figure out how to get her out of my head.
But if I ever find out that anyone other than me has touched her—
I’ll kill him.
The girl has doomed herself to a life of celibacy. And if playing the nun ever gets to be too frustrating—well, I’ll be right there to ease the burden. For one night only, of course.