Chapter 20
DANIKA
Tommy stands over me, so intent on taking in my every movement that I’m not sure he remembers he’s stark naked.
Every smooth curve of skin pulled taut over hard muscle is on display, including the sight of his engorged cock jutting out over me as I lay on the floor.
His damp hair is unusually mussed, and his brown eyes have gone dark as a moonless night.
They watch me as though I am the embodiment of heaven above.
I wish it were true if only so he’d never look away.
“Take off the shorts. Only the shorts,” he orders quietly.
I do as he instructs, mesmerized by the movement of his corded neck as he swallows.
“Now your panties.”
I remove them slowly, playing along with this game of his because I’m enjoying it just as much as he is, even though I shouldn’t. This is the very last thing I should be doing. But I can’t stop. I’m desperate to know what he’ll do next.
“Bend your knees. That’s it. Now, slowly, slowly spread your knees to the sides. Show me what’s mine, Dani. I want to see that beautiful pink pussy on display, just for me.”
He hasn’t even touched me, yet my clit already hums with pleasure at his words and the way his ravenous stare licks across my skin. I’m in awe of what this man does to me without even trying. I want his touch so badly, I can hardly keep still.
“Please, Tommy. I need you to touch me,” I give in and plead.
The satisfied rumble that reverberates from his chest has my insides clenching tight. The sight of him dropping to his knees practically undoes me.
“You smell so fucking sweet, you may have to beg me to stop.” He lies flat on his stomach and takes a long, languid lick up my slit.
I hiss and arch at the zing of pleasure shooting from my core.
“ Goddamn ,” he murmurs to himself. I hardly register the exaltation because I’m too concentrated on my need for more.
Tommy’s intense nature and inherent mystery have me almost instantly perched on the precipice of a pleasure avalanche.
He licks along the side of my clit, then along the other, before circling his tongue directly on the head of the sensitive bundle of nerves. The pleasure is blinding.
A wanton moan claws its way out from deep in my chest. My thighs start to quiver and shake. Tommy instantly pulls away.
“No! I was so close,” I cry.
He nips at my inner thigh. Once. Twice. The graze of his teeth so close to where I need his touch only intensifies the ache for more.
“I hated seeing his hands on you.” Another nip, this one with a tad more bite.
“I was about to pass out,” I remind him distractedly.
“Doesn’t matter. I still hated it.” He teases me with a slow sweep of his tongue along my center. “I want to hear you say you’re mine.” Another languorous lick.
“I’m yours, Tommy. Only yours.” The words come unbidden as though they already existed and were simply biding their time.
I’m too overwhelmed with need for caution or misdirection.
I might be shocked at the ease with which I spoke the words if that same preoccupation didn’t have me too distracted to care.
“Damn right, you are,” Tommy growls before worshipping me with the gift of his tongue. He doubles down his efforts, and in a matter of seconds, I’m crying out a cataclysmic release.
I’ve never come so fast or so hard in my life.
My entire body clenches and vibrates as I absorb the shock waves of physical elation.
Tommy helps me milk every last ounce from the orgasm by continuing slow, gentle strokes around my clit.
When he finally stops, I no longer have a care in the world.
Biba could be in the other room, and I wouldn’t even flinch I’m so blissed out.
“That was so much more addictive than I imagined it would be,” Tommy says, now seated between my open legs.
His words drift amorphously through my consciousness, not fully taking shape. “Addictive? What’s addictive?”
“All of it. I’ve never really wanted to taste a woman like that before.
It was better than I imagined, and the way your body responds to the lightest touch—you’re magnificent.
” His eyes remain locked on my core while his hand trails up my inner thigh.
It almost feels like he’s talking to himself, but I think it’s just because he’s so genuinely surprised.
“Are you saying you’ve never gone down on a woman before?” I ask, my clarity resurfacing as shock registers.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“I don’t see how … I mean … why not?” I’m flabbergasted. Utterly stunned. He’s so erotically possessive that I don’t see how he could be with a woman and not want to own her in every way possible. And I have no delusions about his past. The man knows his way around a woman’s body.
“Because putting my mouth on a woman like that felt too intimate.” He taps my foot for me to lift so that he can slide my panties back on.
“Is it the emotional or physical intimacy that you didn’t like?” I ask curiously.
“Both.”
“I would normally have been a bit more … prepared … down there.” I wish I’d had a chance to shower before this—I wasn’t exactly keeping myself performance-ready. It’s hard not to be self-conscious about that sort of thing.
“Look at me,” Tommy says firmly. “How often do you think I hand out empty compliments for the fun of it?”
I survey his severe expression. “Never.”
His eyes crease the tiniest bit in the corners. “Exactly, so if I say you’re fucking addictive, I mean it.”
“Okay.” That’s a relief, I guess, but also, I’m desperately curious about his past. I hadn’t considered it before.
Has he ever been in a relationship? Do I really want to know?
Probably not. “Well, if that’s your first go, I’m highly impressed.
” I sit up next to him, my cheeks flushing.
I scoot a bit closer and run my hand up his thigh. His hand wraps around mine to stop me.
“What about you?” I ask. I’ve only been in a couple of long-term relationships, but a certain degree of reciprocity was always assumed.
Tommy shakes his head. “I’m not coming in your mouth or hand.
The first time you wring me dry, I want my cum inside you, and that’s not happening until you’re my wife.
” Before I can argue, he brings his lips to mine, stealing my thoughts with a seductive kiss.
Once I’m thoroughly mindless, he stands and helps me to my feet.
“I’m going to finish getting ready, but first… ” He starts tapping at his phone.
“First what?”
“First, I’m arming the damn alarm. No more unexpected visitors,” he grumbles.
Once he’s done, he turns for the bedroom, then pauses to look back at me. I’m standing in the same place, chewing on my lip. His brows furrow in a deep crease.
“What is it?” he asks.
“Nothing, I guess.” I look around the room, wondering what on earth I’m going to do with myself all day.
“You guess? I’m not good at reading between the lines, Danika. If there’s a problem, you have to tell me.”
“Not a problem, I’m just a little stir-crazy. I’ve been stuck here in the apartment for a week. Another long day inside feels a little daunting.”
“I suppose you can join me today if you want to.” His voice bears a note of uncertainty—a hint of insecurity, as though he’s not sure he should offer.
I smile warmly to reassure him. “I’d really love that, thank you.”
Tommy grunts and resumes his walk back to the bedroom.
He doesn’t coddle me or feel an artificial need to make me comfortable.
In his eyes, it’s time to move on to the next task.
Knowing that his behavior isn’t meant as a personal slight, I find it unexpectedly refreshing.
I can take his words and actions at face value, and I appreciate that.
This Mafia captor of mine is an incredible duality of simplicity and complexity.
So straightforward yet so unusual. I can’t wait to see what more I can learn about him in his work environment.
I shouldn’t be so excited to spend time with him, but I can’t deny the eagerness exists.
Tommy Donati has me utterly spellbound, for better or worse. I can only pray it’s for the better.
“Are we at a company picnic?” I look around at the families carrying plates of food and playing carnival-style games inside the large conference center. The predominant theme among them is a familiar brown delivery service logo.
“It’s a benefits fair for the local branch of the Teamsters Union.” Tommy has to project his voice over the ruckus of the crowd. With bounce castles at the back of the room, this is definitely a family-focused event. Lots of kids. Lots of noise.
I have to strain to hear clearly, and I make sure to walk with Tommy on my right side—the side of my good ear. Crowds aren’t my favorite, but I’m intrigued about why we’re here. A union gathering would explain the information booths, but it doesn’t help me understand our purpose here.
“Sooo, what exactly are we doing here?” I ask as we walk past a man making balloon animals in front of a cluster of children—not at all what I expected a workday with Tommy to look like. I don’t know what I did expect, but this wasn’t it.
“My family plays an active role in the Teamsters and other mall onions intensity.”
Mall onions intensity?
I play over his words and can’t make sense of them. “The Teamsters and what? I didn’t catch that last part.”
“I said, the Teamsters and other smaller unions in the city.”
That makes more sense linguistically, but I’m clueless as to why a Mafia family would care about unions. I doubt they’re concerned about fair wages or comprehensive healthcare. I decide to take a chance and push for a bit more information.
“Can you elaborate on your family’s role with the union?”
He stops strolling and pulls us aside. I’m grateful because I want to make sure I hear his answer.