Indebted to the Mafia King
Belief

Eleni

When Dante kisses me, for a split second, I think about pulling away. The fear and anger of my encounter with Henry still courses under my skin. There's so much to be scared about, enemies closing in from all angles.

Dante bites my lip, and endorphins flood my system. This is why I've stayed. He makes me feel like no one ever has. Not because he knows how to touch me, but becauseI can melt into his arms, let everything go, and trust he'll pick up the pieces afterward. I have nothing to fear with Dante.

And he promised. So I'll trust him.

I throw my arms around his neck. "I want to listen tonight."

He sweeps me off my feet in a bridal carry. I yelp.

"Shush," he reprimands. "Tonight, you hear me, pet."

I bite my own lip as he jogs up the stairs. The heavy mantle of submission steals over me, crushing the remaining fears from my system.

Dante veers into our bedroom and deposits me on the bed. "Do you particularly like these clothes?"

I look down at the blouse and jeans I wore to dinner. They can be replaced. "N-"

He raises an eyebrow. I flush, then shake my head. "Good."

With a dangerous smile, he positions me. I grip the headboard with both my hands, and he has me stretch my legs as far apart and as wide as I can. Then, he begins undressing himself slowly, looking me over with appreciative eyes. "Hold that," he says. "All of it. Eyes open. Mouth closed."

No restraints. No gags. I have no tools to rely on but the strength of my desire to obey. I meet his gaze and draw strength from his dark eyes. He believes I can do this. I won't disappoint him. Gorgeously naked, Dante circles me like I'm prey. His muscles ripple under his olive skin. I shiver.

And he's on me. He attacks my mouth, my neck, the slim triangle of skin exposed by my modest blouse. A cry bubbles up inside me, and I force it down. I can't stumble at the first hurdle. I clench my fists around the headboard like it's his hair. Dante unbuttons my blouse one by one, then continues his attack on each new inch of exposed skin. When he reaches the valley between my breasts, I nearly lose my composure. I have to look down at him to regain myself.

His dark eyes meet mine. A thin veneer of dominating control, near boredom as he waits for me to fail, lies over a pit of burning hunger. He wants me as much as I want him. Pleasure will come, if slowly.

The thin fabric of my blouse falls uselessly to the sides, exposing my bra. He lingers on my torso for long minutes, sucking dark bruises into my skin where no one will see them. The pain sparks, hot and bright, and I sink my teeth into my lower lip to stay quiet.

The sharp snick of a pocket knife flipping out breaks my focus. My attention whips from his face to the blade in his hand. Carefully, he threads it under the thin strip of the band that connects the two cups of my bra and yanks upward. The fabric splits instantly. Dante drops the knife and bares my breasts to his eyes. The warm puff of his breath coaxes another shiver from my body. He tuts, and I nearly break the command to keep my eyes open. He's so intense, so all- encompassing. I need the nothingness to get enough distance not to lose myself entirely.

With a scowl, he reminds me I asked to lose myself. When he laves a tongue over one of my quickly pebbling nipples, I stop fighting. I have nothing to fear. Dante will take care of me. My whole mind goes fuzzy as I submit to him entirely. He spends ages on my breasts. Teasing, pinching, coaxing me to the edge of failure and pulling back just enough. He is a master with his instrument. He knows my body better than I do. All I have to do is lie back and turn into one quivering nerve, waiting for the next glance, the next touch.

Dante unzips my jeans and plunges one hand into them without preamble. It is nearly impossible not to curl around him, to yell his name. Tears burn my eyes. I stay still.

"So wet for me." He smiles indulgently. "I was worried. You were so quiet."

I shake my head, desperate for him to know what he's done to me. I'm just trying so hard to be good.

He laughs as he pulls his hand back out. "Do you think you can survive an orgasm without breaking?"

No, definitely not. I am about to nod, to beg, to lie about my capabilities out of need, but the haze of submission stops me. He wants me to be quiet and still. I want to listen.

My face burning, I shake my head again.

"You're so good." He cups my hot cheek. "I already knew that, but I would've let you prove yourself wrong. Since you were good though, pet, I'll make you a deal." He smiles. "I'm going to get the big vibrator." My lower lip trembles. I've never made it more than a minute with the big vibrator.

"And I'm going to touch myself. You can move everything but your arms. If you stay quiet and don't come before I do, I'll fuck you like you deserve." He drags his hand down to my throat, my collarbone. "So put on a show for me, pet." I nod. It's all I can do.

He spends a few minutes readying the scene. With my legs now able to move, he removes my jeans and underwear without using the knife. He checks the charge on the massive white wand of the big vibrator, then positions it between my legs, cool against the hot wetness there. These little steps of the ritual drag me ever deeper into this space below myself, where I am just his. Look pretty. Don't make a noise. Don't come. For him.

By the time Dante positions himself on the opposite end of the bed from me, his cock shining, I can barely remember my own name. Just his. It is peaceful and quiet in my mind for the first time in too long to remember. "Ready?" he asks.

I nod.

With a smile, he flips on the vibrator. "Go."

The firm, bassy vibrations ripple through my system. I squirm, looking for more and less. I can't give into the pleasure they promise. Dante takes himself in hand and begins moving slowly up and down. Another night, I would play with my own breasts, would throw my head back and moan, and would use my whole body to please him. Tonight, I can only rock into and out of the insistent hum, my teeth so deep in my lip I start to taste copper, and hold his gaze.

He starts to pick up speed. "So beautiful for me, pet. So good."

I jerk my hips to the side, slightly dislodging the vibrator. It presses urgently at my entrance, dulled just enough that I might survive this endless task.

He knows me better than I know myself. Dante adjusts the vibrator back into position on my clit without releasing his cock. A whiny moan batters against the prison of my lips, but I won't let it go. I can't. Not when he's so pleased with me. "I love it when you listen," he groans. "Out in the world, you don't bow down to anybody, but in here you're mine. All mine."

Pleasure reaches warm fingers out for me to take. I could tumble over the edge. I knock the hand away. I am listening to the man I love.

He grunts and stiffens. Hot, white come dribbles over his hand.

"Come for me," he mumbles. "Loud as you can."

My orgasm hits me like a truck, and his name tears from my lips. Aftershocks crash through my body, or is that a second crescendo? The unceasing vibrator pushes me ever higher. When he finally pulls it away, I nearly weep with the loss. That is, until I feel the stiffening head of his cock line up with my entrance. He left me writhing until he was ready again. I open my eyes when did I close them? and stare into Dante's as he fucks me hard and fast, wringing yet more pleasure out of me. I wrap my legs around his waist, my hands still clutching the headboard, and when I come again, it's with his sweet praise ringing in my ears.

He knew I could do it. Because he did, so did I.