The Dollhouse (27 page)

He bit gently at the lobe of my ear. “She knows better than to disturb us. Relax."

And then he pushed his way inside of me and I lost my ability for rational thought. We moved together in the hushed, semi-dark of his office. He obviously liked working in low light. The only illumination was the desk lamp that cast our long shadows on the wall.

I wondered distantly if he'd set up the mood lighting on purpose. Would his receptionist be able to see our dark shadows moving through the frosted glass. We were still mostly clothed but the dance of our bodies moving together was unmistakable.

"Stop thinking so much," he growled into my ear.

Julian gripped my hips hard enough that it would probably leave a bruise and pounded into me. My hands wrapped around his shoulders as he forced our bodies together. I wanted to shove off his suit jacket and rip off the crisp dress shirt underneath, but he left me no room to maneuver.

I tried to grind against him, do something to increase the friction but he held me nearly immobile — merely a receptacle for his pleasure.

That thought — so dirty and demeaning — is what sent me over the edge into screaming orgasm.

I clung to him as waves of pleasure rolled over me and I had the nearly-lucid thought that I would do anything to stay right here forever.

"
D
addy
!"

Lucas wobbled on short legs across the polished wood floor toward the tall figure that had just stepped through the front door. The toddler firmly attached himself to his father's legs.

Julian swept his son up into his arms as our son’s laughter filled the penthouse apartment. Even after almost two years, the sight of them together still caused my chest to go tight and made me breathless.

Julian tilted Lucas so that the boy rested on his hip and smiled at me, making my knees go weak.

"Dora! Dora!" Lucas began to shout, pointing chubby arms at the flat screen television. I knew exactly what the little minx was trying to do.

"Don't let him fool you," I murmured as I approached them and Julian placed a chaste kiss on my cheek. "It's time for his nap."

"No nap!"

"I'll take him." Julian grinned over his son's escalating protests. "You look like you could use a break."

I collapsed onto the couch as he carried the struggling child in the direction of his bedroom. I was relieved that Julian had managed to come home early, it seemed like I was spending more and more time alone recently. I loved Lucas and being a mother, but sometimes chasing after a crazed toddler was more than I had the energy to deal with. And it didn't leave much time for Julian and I to be alone together.

Although it wasn't as if I had anything to complain about. My mother's cancer was in complete remission. I had managed to finish my degree, taking classes online and doing my homework at night when Julian was home to watch Lucas. And I sent enough money home that my brother was able to quit working at the restaurant and focus on his own education.

And Julian had turned out to be a more devoted father than I could ever have imagined. He was patient and loving and I could see the joy in his eyes every time his gaze rested on his son.

I leaned against the couch, lightly dozing and enjoying the rare moment of respite. Eventually, I would have to get up and start putting something together for dinner.

It was funny to me that the popular saying advised against turning hoes into housewives, because it seemed like I was way better at one than the other. I giggled at the thought.

"What's funny?"

Strong hands coasted up my sides and I felt my arms being lifted and pinned over my head. I opened my eyes to see Julian's beautifully stern face floating above mine.

A familiar shudder ran through me at the feel of his skin on mine. "I was just thinking that I make a terrible housewife."

He pinned me back against the cushions with the force of his body. "Maybe I like the idea of you here waiting for me…barefoot and pregnant."

"Oh, not this again."

His leg slid easily between mine and pressed hard against the throbbing heat at my very core. "I want another one."

"Julian—“ His lips pressed a trail of small, heated kisses up the side of my neck, making it impossible to think. My next words came out on a shuddering breath. "You're insane."

"Lucas needs a little sister, or brother." He bit down on the jumping pulse in the side of my neck and I felt the shock of it travel down my body. "He's getting older."

"We barely have any time together as it is." I couldn’t keep the slight pout out of my voice. It had been weeks since we did anything kinkier than a quickie up against the washing machine while Lucas watched Dora the Explorer in the other room.

"Do you want a nanny?" He ground his thigh against me and I arched into him in an involuntary movement, my body already primed for his. "I can have the housekeeper come more often."

"You're not gonna burn me with candle wax or whip me in front of the housekeeper."

I regretted the words immediately after they spilled from my lips as he moved his face directly in front of mine, a maniacal gleam in his eyes.

"So that's it." He kissed me hard, until I felt the sharp edge of his teeth pressing against my lips. His hand slid across my belly where the bottom of my shirt had ridden up and then slipped just under the waistband of my jeans. "You're just starved for attention."

"Please—“ I whispered on a shattered breath, not even sure what I was begging for.

"So I'll tell you what's going to happen now." His nimble fingers slid underneath the waist of my jeans, stroking the soft skin. When one dipped to stroke the wetness between my legs, I saw stars. "I'm going to tie you up and fuck you over and over again until you're so filled with cum its dripping down your legs. And I'm not going to let you go until I'm sure you’ve got another one of my kids in there."

"What about Lucas?" I asked on a shuddering laugh, not sure if I was hoping he was joking or deadly serious.

"I'll take him to your mom's house." Another twist of his fingers drew me so close to the edge that my hips bucked against the sofa cushions. "You better pray that pee stick turns the right color before I wear you completely raw.

"Julian, don't play with me like this," I pleaded, my hips moving frantically in an effort to increase the contact as he continued to stroke me slowly and deliberately. "I can't take it."

"Tell me how much you want to be my pregnant slut and I'll let you come."

"N...no—“

He slid a single thick finger inside of me and I couldn't hold back a moan.

"Say it now, Dalea."

"I want to be your pregnant slut."

"Close, but I'm not quite sure that I understand."

"I want to be your pregnant slut,
sir.
"

The last word came out in a high gasp as he palmed my mound and pushed another finger inside of me. I could feel the barely withheld strength of him and the heady wonder of being the sole object of his attention.

Even if he could never bring himself to say it, never say the words in the way that a less intense and fiercely guarded man would. I knew the truth.

I knew he loved me.

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He’ll protect her body, but only if it belongs to him!

Mara

I never wanted to be a part of the life but that’s hard to avoid when your grandfather is the head of the Matarazzo Crime Family. Now, I need protection and Leo is the only who can help me. I know he’s dangerous and deadly, but what other choice do I have. He says he’ll protect my body, but only if I let him do what he wants with it.

Leo

People don’t come to me for help unless it’s the type that requires a gun, especially women. That’s what happens when you’re a Mafia hitman. But now, little Mara Matarazzo is all grown up and she’s in trouble. I am not a nice man and nothing comes for free. I’ll help her, but only if she’s willing to do what I say…

Continue reading for a short excerpt!

M
ara looks
like a ghost when I walk back into the apartment, a couple hours after she left me at the courthouse. She sits abnormally still on the very edge of my couch with her hands clenched tight in her lap and her face as white as a sheet.

She almost jumps out of her skin when the front door slams shut behind me. She must have been so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t hear me come in.

“What happened?” She moves quickly around the couch and comes to an abrupt stop in front of me. Her gaze takes in the slight bruise on my cheek and split lip, minor wounds compared to the damage that I inflicted. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good.” The anxious look on her face makes me want to kiss her until the lines of worry fade away. After the way she threw herself at me this morning, it’s taking everything I have not to force her down to her knees and shove my dick into that smart mouth.

At this point, I deserve a fucking medal for my restraint. Vito, you fat fuck, I hope you’re somewhere burning because I sure as hell am.

I don’t even know why I’m acting like such a fucking saint. I want her and she obviously wants me, too. I remind myself that the situation is complicated enough as it is, there’s no reason to make it worse.

But I need to get her out of here and back to that prissy school of hers as soon as possible.

I go to the kitchen and grab a bottle off of the top-shelf of the cupboard. I don’t even bother to look at the label before pouring a full glass. Alcohol burns down my throat as I take a healthy swig. I instantly feel a little better.

Mara is still looking at me like she’s got her heart in her mouth. I feel the perverse need to reassure her, like I fucking care. “It’s fine, Mara.”

“What happened?” she asks again.

“We took care of it. They’re off your back for now.”

She raises an eyebrow and gives me that haughty look that I’m coming to realize is just the normal set of her face. “And what about later?”

“I’m still working on later.”

Truthfully, I have no idea what we’re going to do. The MC is off her back for now, but knocking a few heads together isn’t going to work forever. Short of taking out Mack, a few bikers and — probably her mother, too — I can’t think of a single thing that will keep them off her case forever. That much money on the line is a potent inducement for mayhem. Under other circumstances, I might be tempted myself.

And I realize that I’ve been thinking in terms of
we,
instead of
she,
like we’re in this together now, or some shit. Damnit.

This is what happens when you try to do the right thing.

Mara turns away from me and walks back to the couch before sinking slowly into it. Any other woman would be in hysterics, but not this one. The wheel’s in this girls head never stop turning, you can see it in her eyes.

“Would you come sit with me for a minute?”

I eye her suspiciously, something in her tone alerts me to the fact that I’m not going to like whatever it is she wants to say.

I don’t move. I can hear from here. “What?”

She turns to look at me over the back of the couch. “Come sit.”

“No. Talk.” I use the same brusque tone that’s convinced every woman I’ve ever known to to stop pushing me.

Of course, it doesn’t work on Mara. She just looks at me with a tiny smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

“You’re really stubborn, you know that.”

She’ll see stubborn when I put her over my knee, flip up her skirt and spank her bare ass until she bleeds. “Spit it out, woman.”

“Oh, fine.” Mara lets out a weary sigh, like I’m the one who’s impossible to deal with. “I’ve been thinking about what I can do about all this. Actually, what we can do.”

“What
we
can do, huh?” My tone is deliberately sardonic. I try to remember when I agreed to make all of this my problem, but I’m drawing a blank. “And what’s that?”

I see the annoyance pass over her features, but she seems to be doing her best to hide it. Probably because she’s about to ask me to do something that she knows I’m not going to want to do.

“The real problem is that Cecile still thinks she can get at this money. Right now it’s just threats to get me to sign it over. But, eventually she and Mack are gonna figure if they can find a way to just get rid of me without getting pinned, the money goes to her by default.”

I’m surprised and a little impressed by how matter-of-fact she rattles it all off. Like,
oh yeah, gotta figure out what I’m gonna do when my own mother tries to murder me.

I’ve worked hard to be stone cold. Makes me wonder what the hell Cecile must have done to Mara as a kid to make her like this.

“What’s your point?”

“I have to stick around long enough to make sure the will stays sorted out with the court. I also need to get the accounts in order and move everything around, because something tells me that Cecile got her hands on at least a few of Papa’s account numbers over the years. I can’t go back to school until that’s all done, but short of sleeping at the police station I’m running out of safe places to stay.”

“So you want to crash here for awhile?”

“Well, yeah.” She says that like she’s already asked and been offered my hospitality for the duration. Presumptuous little brat. “But that still doesn’t stop them coming after me.”

“Just spit out.”

She blows out a rush of air. “Jesus, you’re impossible. The only way I can think of to protect the money is to make sure Cecile and Mack know that if something happens to me, the money goes to someone else.”

Her hands nervously clench and unclench in her lap. For anyone else, the movement would have been almost unnoticeable. But for someone as nonreactive as Mara, she might as well be sweating bullets. There’s something about this that I’m not getting.

“What, like donating it to charity?”

“It would have to be something that they wouldn’t want to go up against. Mack isn’t afraid of a charity.” She pauses and I realize what an effort it’s taking her to get this out. “But I think they might be afraid of you.”

“You want to leave your money to me?”

“No. I want you to marry me.”

This crazy bitch
. “No. Hell, no.”

She glares at me. “You’d rather they just kill me?”

I’ve done more for this broad than I have for anyone still breathing, but this is a bridge headed out into the ocean — or too fucking far as the saying goes. “I’m not doing that.”

“It would only be temporary, just until I figure something else out. We can get an annulment after a few months.” Real fear flares in her dark eyes. “You are literally the only person that can help me right now.”

“Sorry sweetheart. The answer is no.”

I expect the tears that I think I see shining in her eyes to fall, but once again she surprises me.

“You promised Papa that you’d take care of me,” she says, regarding me solemnly. “Doesn’t that mean something?”

“I sincerely doubt this is what he fucking meant.” The idea is so ludicrous that I want to look around for hidden cameras. This has to be some kind of prank because the universe wouldn’t be this cruel. “You want protection or someone’s head bashed in? That I can do.”

“I’d pay you.” Her mouth sets in a stubborn line. “However much you want. Fifty thousand? A hundred?”

“I don’t need your fucking money.”

“It wouldn’t have to mean anything. I just need a piece of paper. You can go on living your life the way you always have after I go back to school. I just need something to keep Cecile and Mack off my back.” She stands and comes around the couch, her palms up in entreaty. “Look, I get you’re not attracted to me, but it’s not like I’m asking for a real marriage.”

Not attracted to her?
Is that what she fucking thinks? After that searing hot kiss this morning, I know I pushed her away. But that was me doing the honorable thing, for the sake of Vito’s memory. Though it seems like the more I try to do right, the bigger the pile of shit I end up having to shovel.

Maybe I should try doing the wrong thing.

“You think I don’t want you?”

Mara looks startled. “You said you didn’t.”

“No, you’re wrong.” I gently wag my finger at her. “I said that it wasn’t going to happen, but maybe now I’m reconsidering.”

“What does that mean?” Her voice quavers ever so slightly.

“It means…keep your money.” I take a slow step towards her. She takes a reflexive step back, face wary. “I’ll marry you, keep you safe from those jerk-offs, but I want something else in return.”

I can see the little pulse in her neck flutter as she swallows. I bet it’s taking everything she has to face me down. I may have teased her a bit before, but that was just fun and games. Now she has my undivided attention.

“What do you want?”

I smile and I know it’s menacing. “You.”

I think of all the women that have practically run screaming from this apartment when I tell them what I want to do to them. All of the times that I’ve given it to a girl vanilla like she wanted, when I wanted anything but loving and sweet.

To her credit, Mara doesn’t flinch. There’s a backbone of pure steel running through this chick, I’ll give her that.

“You’re going to have to explain that to me,” she says, voice deceptively calm.

“You think I’m about to have some broad sleeping in my house, eating my food, with a ring on her finger and I don’t fucking touch her?”

I push into her personal space, deliberately trapping her between my body and the back of the couch. She could climb over it to get away from me, but I don’t think she will. It wouldn’t be dignified.

Silence descends as we stare at each other. I want her off-balance, want her to be a little afraid. I want to break down that imperious and impersonal shell to get to what’s underneath.

“Are you drunk?”

I can’t help but smile at that. “Sober as a parish priest. This is all me, baby.”

“What exactly are you saying?” she asks, making a good impression of someone that’s not cornered like a mouse under the paw of a house cat.

“I’m saying if you want this, then you’re going to get it all. I have particular tastes. My
wife
doesn’t get to say no to anything that I want to do.”

The fear is still there, but a look of slight curiosity crosses her features. “What is it you want to do?”

“Everything.”

“So, what?” If I didn’t have such a good read on her, that imperious tone would be enough to hide the little nervous stutter in her voice. “I…I agree to be your little sex slave or you throw me to the wolves?”

“Sounds about right.”

I wait for her to react to that, but she just stares at me.”Would you hurt me?”

Yes.
“I’d make sure you liked it — most of the time.”

I tell myself that I’m just trying to scare her away and get this ridiculous idea out of her head. But the part of me that craves the control, the part of me that feels a little spurt of satisfaction every time I lay one between the eyes of my target, it’s hoping she’ll say yes.

Because that same part of me wants to
own
her.

My hand rises slowly, giving her a chance to ask me to stop. But she just stares up at me, lips slightly parted, and waits. She’s the most intoxicating mix of strength and vulnerability.

It’s delicious.

I touch her throat, stroking my fingers down the jumping pulse in her neck. One hand wraps around her throat and I realize just the barest use of strength could snuff the very life from her. I’m so much bigger than her — and stronger. I wonder if that’s the allure for women, that not-so-subtle edge of danger in being close to something deadly.

“Leo—“

“Sir,” I correct her, smiling a little when her lips pull together in a thin line. She doesn’t like that.

“Like hell.”

“It’s this or the door, sweetheart.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Try me.”

“Sir,” she bites out.

I know I’m taking advantage of her. I know that it’s wrong. But the thought of having this girl here and doing what I want with her, is more alluring than anything else I can imagine. And she’s getting something in return. It’s fair.

“Turn around.”

She doesn’t move, stubborn resistance written into every line of of her body. “What are you going to do?”

I shake my head. “What are you going to do….?”

“What are you doing…sir?” She spits out the words like they taste bad.

“I’m sampling the merchandise before I decide if I want to buy.”

Indecision flits across her face as she considers it and she stares up at me. She’s obviously trying to decide how real my threat is. It’s real enough, I have no problem kicking her ass out. All the goodness in my heart was sucked dry a long time ago.

Mara turns on shaky legs, her body tense. She’s obviously wondering what I’m going to do to her.

I’m wondering the same thing.

I push a hand into her thick hair and yank her neck back, exposing the long curve of her neck. Her throat jumps as she swallows hard.

I chuckle. “Gulp.”

“Fuck you, sir.”

That smart mouth of her’s is really gonna get her in trouble one day. She’s lucky I’m in the kind of mood where it’s more amusing than disrespectful.

My fingers tighten in her hair, pulling a little harder. She lets out a tiny gasp that has me rock hard in an instant. My gaze moves over the arch of her throat and down to where her tits are practically spilling out of the tight tank top she’s wearing.

Her nipples are hard like tiny beads under the fabric and I suddenly can’t wait anymore to get my first look. One hand keeps its tight grip on her hair while the other slides down her throat and pushes underneath the neckline of her top.

I pull down on the shirt, exposing her chest to the air.

“The fuck?”

A raging blush picks up on her cheeks and travels down her neck and chest. A bright red trail points like an arrow straight to the little bits of metal poked through her nipples.

“Don’t say it—“

“Nipple piercings?” I ask on a burst of laughter. “You gotta be shittin’ me.”

She squirms uncomfortably in my arms. “I was drunk and my friends took advantage.”