Owned by the Italian Mafia Don: Chapter 13

It’s been a few days since the nurse incident, and I may or may not have sewed “Pull my hair and spank me” on his sling. Then I found out he took his wedding ring off to clean the blood from it but didn’t have time to put it back on when the nurse got there.

Still, I didn’t hear him say he was married.

I can’t say I don’t care anymore. I do.

Too much. I shouldn’t but damn it, seeing that nurse’s hands all over him and how she threw herself at him, made me see red.

I thought when I sewed the words onto his sling, he’d be furious, but he just laughed and wore it around the house, having meetings with his men as if the words didn’t embarrass him. It’s been two days since I sewed it on, and he has done nothing about it. He still wears it as if he is proud of it.

I know he does it just to tick me off, but it doesn’t now. His way of taking everything in stride only makes me smile. The rebellion inside me lessens every day and a part of me has kept it up because it’s fun when we play around with each other.

Sometimes I wonder why I’m still angry and taking it out on Ari, which isn’t fair, because I’m angry at so many things in this world, and while he was someone I was mad at, I’m not anymore.

I’m still mad at everything else that’s happened in my life. I’m so damn angry, I want to burn the store down. I want to scream. I want to kick and punch. I want to go to the old apartment and soak it in gasoline, laughing in relief as I drop the match.

I know, it’s insane to want. I have to be fucked up in the head to want that to happen, but over the years, I’ve held so much inside me. Ari, while a charming and conniving businessman, gave me a deal that enraged me at first; it’s the last thing on my list to be angry about now.

He’s the punching bag as I take out my anger and that isn’t okay. He takes it though; he deals with my bursts of lividity and just takes it in stride. He has to be the most even-tempered man I’ve ever met, which makes him a great mafia boss because he is calm, collected, and patient; but when he does snap, it’s never at me or with impatience toward his men.

It’s always at the situation he is dealing with.

I want to ruffle those feathers, though. Not out of spite, but because it’s fun, and I know he likes to do the same for me.

And on top of all that, I might be sexually frustrated because he is always walking around shirtless now that he has a sling. He doesn’t like to have to take it off and put it back on over his shirt, which makes sense, but then I’m left staring at his body all day and night.

The man has an amazing body and he flaunts it in front of me—which I’m sure is part of the reason why he decides not to wear shirts around the house—but I’m still human. I’m a woman who has never experienced another man’s touch and I’m craving his. The slight touches, the kind caresses, him being gentle with me and not pushing me, aren’t enough for me anymore. I don’t know how to act on it either. I don’t know how to take that next step, especially when I know I’m not ready yet. I don’t know him well enough.

Then, another part of me doesn’t care.

I should just tell him I want him, but the thought has nerves floating around in my stomach. What if he says no?

I’d rather just take care of it myself.

Finally, I roll out of bed and head to the bathroom, doing everything I need to before getting into the shower. I wash my hair and body, shave, and then stand there under the hot water, letting images of Ari run through my mind.

And he never gets tired.

One hand plays with my nipple and I imagine him sucking it into his mouth. I gasp, arching my back, then slide my other hand down between my legs. I pass my clit. I know a lot of women love clit stimulation and I do too, but I get the most out of fingering myself.

Inserting two fingers, I groan, as I pump in and out easily. I’m already slick at the thought of Ari going down on me, finger fucking me with aggression because the harder the better in my opinion. A constant moan leaves me, echoing in the bathroom, and I almost don’t care who hears me.

“Oh god,” I toss my head back, lifting my leg to the edge of the tub so I have better access, then slide in another finger.

God, it doesn’t feel like enough. I ache. I need more.

I want Ari.

I pound my fingers in and out, driving them in with such force and speed, the water makes the sound louder as my skin slaps together.

“Ari,” I whisper just before my orgasm explodes through me, my vision blurring for a split second as my climax takes over me.

Slowly, I stroke my fingers in and out, milking every last drop of my orgasm and igniting new, smaller waves of pleasure until I’m relaxed.

All the negativity is gone. The anger has dimmed. And all I want to do now is cuddle up in my husband’s arms and have him hold me. I want to try to give into this arrangement. My luck definitely could have been worse when they dropped a mafia boss in front of me at the store.

I could have been left with someone like Bianchi. And who knows what would have happened to me then?

I’m thankful to have been allowed to save my family and myself and it is in the form of Ari Milazzo.

I turn the water off, more relaxed than I have been in a while, and a rush of disappointment drifts over me when I notice the bathroom is empty. I don’t know why I expected him to be in here, maybe overhearing me groan his name while I orgasmed from the thought of him, but I did expect him, and all that’s left is steam rolling through the air and a foggy mirror.

Alone.

Isn’t that what I wanted all along? Even before Ari, I wanted to be alone. I didn’t want to take care of people anymore. And now Ari gives me space. It’s exactly what I wanted.

I swipe the mirror of the condensation and stare at myself, my curls dripping with water. Being alone is overrated especially when the person who wants to get to know you isn’t so bad after all.

I dry my hair, bunching the curls up while I squeeze the ends in the towel. Next, I use product and a ton of it, then blow dry, and head to the closet.

I decide to go for a pretty sundress Ari bought for me. It’s yellow, airy, and the opposite of my normal doom and gloom. I really need to change my way of thinking, or I’ll find myself on an island all alone, but I couldn’t complain, right? Since that’s all I wanted.

I drop the towel and slip the dress on, then open my drawer and snag a pair of panties. As I put them on, I notice something…different.

The middle of my panties is gone. The entire crotch has been cut out. My raging temper flickers to life and I dig through my drawer to find all my panties have been butchered.

“Oh, you son of a—” I catch myself before I say a curse word even though he isn’t around. “This won’t deter me from wearing them.” I know that’s what he wants, but I’m going to wear them and I’m going to show him what he has now when he signed up for a wife.

I slam the drawers shut and decide I’m going to spend my entire day in these panties. Let’s see how his control is tested when he gets a glimpse of what he hasn’t seen of me yet. With that plan in mind, I slip on a pair of nude heels, and I might put on a little makeup. Two squirts of perfume later, I’m strolling out the door, feeling bare because I can feel the slight chill of the breeze caressing my exposed pussy.

I’m not even in front of anyone and I blush.

When I get to the kitchen, I smell the awakening aroma of freshly brewed coffee and I make myself a cup, sipping on it, and notice his office doors are closed. Shadows move behind the frosted glass, and I know he is in a meeting which would make this moment even better.

My heels kiss the tile, the echoing taps nearly matching my heartbeat.

I lift my hand and knock on the door, innocently and unsure. I don’t even know if he can hear it.

The door opens and Matias is there and standing behind him are a few of Ari’s men. I still can’t remember all their names, but I know there is Maliko, who just came here from Italy. Now that I’m here, everyone seems a bit intimidating, and I’ve made a mistake. I’ve lost my nerve.

“I’m sorry, Ari. I’ll come back later. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Nonsense, Tesoro. You’re welcome in all my meetings. Come here.” He gestures for me to enter the room and I step inside, keeping my eyes downward. I feel the power in the room shift and the tension build.

“I don’t know,” I whisper, taking a peek at the men from below my lashes. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“Is my wife intruding?”

“No, Mr. Milazzo,” Maliko states, hands clasped in front of him.

“No, sir,” another says.

“She’s never a bother. I happen to like Rosie very much,” Matias says.

“Me too,” Gianni chimes in.

“There you have it. Come here, Tesoro.”

I tug the hem of my dress, hoping it doesn’t lift and show what I plan on tempting Ari with.

With tentative, easy steps, I walk to stand next to him on his good side. His shirt is still off and I’m sure that isn’t normal for men in such important positions as his. He wraps an arm around my waist, his hand gripping my hip and he tugs me down on his lap.

I’m settled on his knee.

My bare pussy rubs against his pant leg and I have to pinch my lips together to keep quiet. My plan is failing. I was going to tempt him. I was going to show him his little payback scheme didn’t bother me, but now it is bothering me.

In all the right ways.

“Any update on Bianchi?”

Maliko steps forward. “He’s been quiet. He has been at his club. We can’t confirm if it was Bianchi’s men at the airstrip. He’s still looking for Rosie’s brother. He doesn’t know he has left the country yet. I know he is aware of Rosie now, though.”

“What?” Ari shouts, his fingers digging into my thigh which lifts my dress. The calloused pads of his fingers scratch my skin ever so lightly and my nipples harden, giving away my state of arousal.

“He found out about Caplan. He’s searching for him and now he is searching for Rosie. If he finds out you have Rosie, I’m afraid a war will happen.”

“Then let it,” Ari says. “I’ll defend my wife. I want an update on this twice a day. Understand me?”

“Yes, Mr. Milazzo.”

“And I wanted to give an update on Rosie’s family. They have made it safely to their destination. They are settling into their new home.”

“Thank you, Gianni,” I say, the weight of the world lifting off my shoulders. “I’m happy to hear that.” I can’t stop the sorrow seeping out of my voice. I miss my brother so much.

“You’re dismissed. Everyone out. I need a moment with my wife.” Ari waves them away and they leave without a fuss.

“Very impressive to have them listen to you like that.”

“They respect me. I respect them. They respect you. It’s as simple as that.” He turns my head and studies me for a second, then his eyes wander down my body. “You look very beautiful today, Rosie. Seeing you dressed like this,” a growl escapes him, and he lifts me from his leg. He clears his throat, trying to regain focus which has me smile and I stroll around his desk, tracing the edge with my fingers. “I know you miss them, and I promise I’ll bring them home as soon as it is safe. Maybe when things quiet down, you can write a letter to your brother.”

“Wouldn’t that be risky?” I ask, taking a seat in the big, leather chair in front of his desk.

“We would figure it out if that’s what you wanted.”

“I would like that. Thank you, Ari.”

“Is there something you needed?” he finally asks, pushing away from his desk. He stands, heading around until he is standing in front of me.

This is it.

We’re alone.

This is where I show him his tricks don’t bother me. Where’s my nerve?

“I—I wanted to show you something,” I say, a slight tremble in my voice. I won’t stop now. I won’t let this moment deter me from what I need to do. I lift my legs onto the chair and spread them, showing myself off to him. “Your panties are very comfy.”

His nostrils flare and he takes a step forward. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” his voice is a rasp, barely hanging on to the edge of control.

That’s exactly what I wanted.

I run my fingers down my slit, gasping when I feel how wet I am. If I can feel it, he can see it. I know he can see it. “I’m playing your game. Is that what you wanted?” I tease, watching lust swirl in his eyes.

Checkmate.