Chapter Nine
Mia
‘Hmm.’ I sighed, my body clumsy with sleep, my mind drifting on a sea of relaxation. But as I stretched to relieve the kink in my shoulder, my wrist snagged on something, and I couldn’t lower my arm.
I opened my eyes, reality beckoning me. Suddenly Vito wasn’t a hot erotic dream anymore but a disturbing memory—tying my arms and legs, sitting me on his lap and kissing me into submission.
Then I became aware of the engine noise and the night sky visible through the plane window next to the bed I was lying on.
I was on the plane. His plane. No, no, no.
I lurched upright, only to be jerked back onto the satin bedspread. I struggled to get into a sitting position again, but I couldn’t raise my left hand—or my right knee.
Then I spotted the silk wrapped around my ankle.
What. The. Actual. Hell! He’s tied me up again.
Far worse, though, was the realisation I had missed my window of opportunity to escape him in England.
Mia, you idiot. You fell asleep. And let him get you on the damn plane.
My head dropped back on the bed. I used my other hand to cradle the baby growing in my womb. And tried to calm my breathing.
Tears of anger and frustration leaked out of my eyes to trickle down the side of my face. I brushed them away with my free hand. I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
But this was bad. Very bad. How was I going to escape him now?
At least I didn’t feel exhausted anymore. I decided not to think about how ironic it was I’d slept so well while bound to his bed.
I had no idea what he intended to do with me. But given his line of work and the fact he’d had no compunction about kidnapping me and flying me out of the UK, I had to accept how ruthless he was. And how hard it was going to be to get away from him.
No one knew where I was. Even if Evie figured out my disappearance was Vito’s doing, she would have no idea where he’d taken me. And she could hardly go to the authorities when we had both said nothing for over five months about my night with a mafioso and the baby I was carrying.
I reached above my head with my free hand and plucked at the knotted silk on my wrist, determined to at least get off his bed.
I had broken a nail and was huffing and puffing with frustration five minutes later, still attempting to untie the knot—because Vito had clearly been a bloody Boy Scout in another life—when a swooping sensation in my stomach signalled the plane was losing altitude.
Were we landing already? How long had I been asleep?
Then the cabin door opened. I shifted round on the bed and glared at the tall figure who strolled into the room without an invitation.
‘You are awake, Mia.’ Vito’s casual greeting had my indignation snapping to attention. ‘I hope you slept well.’
‘Of course I didn’t. How could I when you tied me to the bed?’ I snapped, even though it wasn’t true. ‘You have to untie me,’ I added, hating the plea in my voice.
He frowned as if my demand was anathema to him. ‘There is nothing I have to do where you are concerned,’ he said, the arrogance I hated back full force. ‘You are mine now, Mia. It is time you accepted this.’
‘I’ll never accept it,’ I shot back, determined to fight his dominance.
‘Do you wish me to prove it?’ he replied, sitting on the bed.
‘No…’ I said, but when I attempted to kick him with my free foot, he caught my ankle and held my leg down easily.
‘Stop this or you will force my hand,’ he murmured as his thumb caressed the inside of my ankle and made the swooping sensation in my stomach worse.
‘Let go of me,’ I demanded, but my attempts to jerk my foot out of his hold were to no avail.
‘And stop touching me. I don’t like it…’ I said, desperate for him to stop that stroking motion, because the prickles of sensation I recognised all too well were shooting straight into my sex.
Triggering the yearning I couldn’t control even now.
I had loved his dominance that night, the chance to forget all my responsibilities and let him take control… That my body was still enthralled by him felt like a betrayal now, though.
‘I can already smell this is a lie, Mia,’ he said as he kept me pinned to the bed, his free hand travelling up my leg.
‘What are you doing?’ I gasped as the prickles went bananas and my thighs quivered, the heat pounding so hard in my sex now that the scent of my arousal was thick in the air.
‘Proving how much you enjoy this,’ he murmured, the seductive tone—and the sure, entitled, dominating caress—sapping my strength and my resistance.
‘I… P-please…’ I said, but I wasn’t even sure what I was begging him for anymore as his callused palm continued its ascent—stroking my calf, then brushing the inside of my thigh.
My struggles died, my pleas for him to stop turning to a moan of encouragement as his marauding hand disappeared under my dress and his thumb caressed the seam of skin between my leg and my torso.
I trembled violently, my back arching, my clit already desperate for his touch, his thumb tantalisingly close to the lace barrier already damp with need.
‘Bella ragazza,’ he murmured, his voice husky with need too. The dark demand in his eyes was my undoing.
Releasing my ankle, because all the fight had gone out of me, he flipped up my dress to expose my panties. He clasped my thighs to spread my legs, then climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between my knees, then leant down to blow across the damp lace covering my needy clitoris.
‘Y-yes…’ I moaned, my desire to fight his control over my body washed away on a wave of desperation. I needed this release. The release only he had ever given me. Just once more.
Using that devious thumb, he inched the lace aside, baring my sex to his gaze.
‘You are so wet and swollen for me, Mia,’ he murmured, the whisper of his breath against my slick folds almost more than I could bear. ‘And that scent. I must taste you.’
I writhed against his hold again, but this time to get closer, to have him put his mouth on me again. ‘Then do it,’ I begged.
‘Promise to obey me, Mia, and I will give you what you need.’
‘I—I can’t…’ I cried, even as I could feel what was left of my willpower dissolving. ‘You shouldn’t have kidnapped me.’
‘And you should not have kept your pregnancy from me…’ he countered, his tone sharp, his stark expression matching the clash of emotions inside me. Desperation, anger, but also desire, need, and that strange tug of hope.
‘I—I had to,’ I murmured, willing him to understand. ‘Your life is so dangerous. I—I didn’t want my baby hurt.’
He frowned, but instead of acknowledging my fears, he licked across my folds, his rough tongue lathing the aching bud.
The raw sensation was like a firecracker lighting me from within, but he stopped almost instantly, leaving me teetering on the verge of a merciless orgasm.
Too far gone and yet not able to tip over into the abyss.
‘The only way to keep our baby safe is to submit to me, Mia,’ he demanded, his tone harsh, but his gaze was shadowed with something much more disturbing.
Was that tenderness? Regret? How could it be, when he refused to give me a choice?
‘I—I won’t…’ I said.
I’d been helpless once before. My desire-drenched brain could grasp that much, at least. During all the years of my childhood, my mother had put her search for the next high, the next deadbeat boyfriend, the next good time above me and Evie.
I’d learned young never to rely on anyone. I couldn’t surrender that. Especially not to a man as dangerous and dictatorial as Vito. No matter how many orgasms he could give me.
‘Yes, you will,’ he demanded, his voice harsh. ‘You must.’
But before I could reply, he delved again with his tongue, circling that aching spot and making me buck against his hold. A moan of raw, unrequited need broke free from my lips. I writhed beneath him, becoming delirious, trying to lift into his mouth, desperate for that denied release.
‘It is the only way to keep you safe,’ he demanded.
I wanted to tell him no… I could never submit my independence, my freedom, nor could I accept his total dominance of my life, no matter how much I enjoyed his dominance in bed…
But before I could enunciate any of it, he nudged the hood of my clit back, fastened his lips on the swollen nub and sucked.
The pleasure exploded in raw, shocking, overpowering waves that launched me off the bed, my sobs turning to groans as the orgasm crested.
Afterglow drenched me, but he continued to suckle. The tortured nub became unbearably tender as another wave of raw pleasure blasted through me.
At last he lifted his head, and I collapsed onto the bed. I could see my juices surrounding his mouth, the sight intensely erotic as he licked his lips.
‘You will submit,’ he murmured again. ‘I will make you.’
I lay shaking, shivering, sated, but also hideously exposed, because it felt as if he had robbed a part of my soul. I had submitted. I had surrendered to him again.
But when he stood abruptly, I saw the outline of his erection jutting obscenely to tent his suit pants. My sex clenched and released, wanting to feel that huge length inside me once more.
Instead of unzipping himself, though, he tugged my panties back into place, then dragged my dress down. He lifted my chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing my gaze to his.
‘You will not escape from me. I will protect my child, no matter what you want,’ he murmured.
The threat was clear, his expression deliberately blank, as he demonstrated his control over me. But when he untied my ankle and my wrist, I could see the tension in his jaw, feel the tremor in his fingers. And I knew he was not as composed or as in control as he was making out.
He could not hide his hunger for me, any more than I could hide my hunger for him. And somehow that felt important… Although I would have to wait until the endorphins had stopped charging around my system, and my brain had a chance to engage again, before I could figure out why it was important.