The Mafia Lord’s Obsession [1]

POV: Jenna

The first thing I felt was the rope biting my wrists, pulling my arms tight above my head. My legs were spread wide apart, tied to something cold, the cool air brushing against my skin, instantly covering me in goosebumps.

Where was I?

My head felt heavy and painful, like someone had hit a hammer to the back of my skull. 

I was paralyzed with fear.

The last thing I remembered was locking up the bar after closing. The street was quiet, my keys jingling in my hand as I started walking to my car. Then I felt that prickling feeling on the back of my neck like someone was watching me.

I'd told myself I was being paranoid, that I was just tired from being on my feet for eight hours straight. 

But I wasn't paranoid, because a strong arm had come from behind, clamping a cloth over my nose and mouth, and I inhaled a sweet, chemical smell, my vision blurring fast. 

I’d clawed at the hand, tried to scream, but it was of no use. Everything went black.

And now here I am. Tied. Blindfolded. Exposed

“Hello?” My voice came out hoarse. “Whoever you are, untie me, or I swear to God—”

I heard footsteps moving towards me, each one making my stomach tighten.

The mattress dipped as someone sat down beside me. A big, warm hand landed on my naked thigh, fingers squeezing just enough to make me gasp.

“You’re finally awake,” a strange voice spoke. He had an Italian accent, his voice deep, rough, the kind that sent a thrill down your spine.

“What the hell is going on?” I demanded, trying to sound braver than I felt. “Why am I tied up like this? Let me go right now, or you will regret it!”

“You’ve got a mouth on you, Jenna,” he said calmly. 

What the hell! How does he know my name? 

My heart raced faster, my breathing quickening.

His fingers traced slowly up my thigh, stopping just before they reached the edge of my thong. 

My breath hitched.

“Get your hand off me,” I hissed, trying to twist away, but the ropes held my hands firm. “I don’t know who you are, but this is kidnapping. Let me go!”

His fingers brushed over the slim fabric of my thong, pressing two fingers against my clit through the cloth, rubbing slowly. 

I gasped loudly as heat spread quickly between my legs, even as I glared at the stranger behind the blindfold.

“Three nights I sat there while you served drinks in that tight little outfit, bending over, laughing with those drunk idiots. You knew I was looking, and you liked it.”

My cheeks burned. 

I remembered a freakingly handsome dude sitting at the end of the bar for three nights straight, eyes fixed on me the whole time. He never spoke, just watched, staring at my ass when I bent over to grab bottles, eyes dark every time my shirt rode up.

Was this him? What did he want from me?

“I thought you might actually grow some balls and ask for my number instead of just staring like a creep,” I snapped, voice trembling. “Not… not kidnap me and tie me to a bed.”

He chuckled.

“What am I doing here?” My voice shook, but I clenched my jaw, forcing it to sound hard.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his thumb grazed my bottom lip, slow, like he was savoring the texture. 

My chest heaved.

“I want you!” he said plainly.

Just like that. Three words, no apology, no explanation. And god help me, my body reacted. A pulse throbbed between my legs, my nipples hardening under the bra.

“I—” My throat went dry. “You can’t just—”

“Can’t I?” His fingers trailed down my neck, over my collarbone, then lower, tracing the swell of my breast through the thin bra. My back arched without permission, a whimper escaping my lips before I could stop it. His touch was maddening—light, teasing, like he was memorizing every part of me.

“Who are you?” I demanded, but the words lacked bite. My voice sounded breathy, needy. Pathetic.

“Gio.” His name rolled off his tongue like a threat. “But from now on, you call me Daddy, mia principessa. Capisce?”

A laugh bubbled up inside my chest. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

His hand slid lower, fingers hooking under the line of my thong. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

The heat of his touch made me freeze.

“Get your hand off me,” I breathed, but it came out like a moan.

“Make me.” His fingers pressed firmer against my clit through the thin fabric. “Tell me to stop and I will. But we both know you don’t want that.”

I bit my lip hard, fighting the moan trying to come out of my mouth. “You don’t know shit about what I want.”

“Oh, I think I do.” He brushed aside the edge of the thong and pushed two fingers inside me, without any warning. “That’s what I thought. You are so fucking tight and wet. I've been thinking about this pussy for a while.”

“Stop… ah… please stop touching me,” I moaned, trying to sound defiant, but my voice cracked.

He thrust his fingers faster, the wet sounds loud in the quiet room. “You’re going to beg me to fuck this tight little cunt before I do.”

“Never,” I growled, even as my walls clenched around his fingers. “I’ll scream. Someone will hear.”

“No one’s coming, cara mia.” His free hand suddenly moved to the back of my head. The blindfold loosened, then fell away.

Light hit my eyes. I blinked hard, vision clearing, and there he was—devastatingly handsome, the kind of beauty that could make a woman forget how to breathe. 

Thick, raven-black hair framed a face that looked like it had been sculpted by God himself, with a sharp jawline covered in a light shadow of dark stubble, highlighting his full, cruelly sexy lips. His intense emerald-green eyes burned into mine with a kind of scary possession, as if he’d already decided I belonged to him body and soul.

I glanced around, heart pounding. I was tied to a wooden bedpost in a room that looked far bigger than my entire apartment, and I realised I was in nothing more than my black lingerie.

Oh God! Who removed my clothes?

Heat flooded my face. I tugged uselessly at the ropes, suddenly super aware of the fact that I was almost naked.

You,” I snarled, embarrassment flushing my face. “You’re going to jail for this, you sick fuck. I’m calling the police the second I’m out of here. They’ll lock your ass up and throw away the key.”

He didn’t even flinch. His fingers slipped out of me, leaving me empty and throbbing. 

I hated how much I missed the pressure of his fingers.

“You don’t have to be so crude with your words, and for your information, I own the police, Jenna. Half the department gets their cut from my operations. They’re in my palm. They only do what I say.”

“Bullshit,” I laughed bitterly, the sound shaky even to my own ears. “You’re so full of shit.”

Who the hell was he, and why did he act like he owned the world? Questions flooded my mind, one after another, each making my heart race faster.

He smirked at me. “Call the cops then,” he threw his phone on the bed and it landed in front of me, “and see how fast they hang up on you.”

Tears of frustration burned my eyes. “I have a boyfriend, and…. and he will beat the crap out of you when I tell him what you did.” I threatened him weakly.

His grin turned cruel as he reached for his phone on the bed, tapping the screen, and turning it toward me. “This boyfriend?”

He hit play on the video, and my stomach dropped, nausea rising in my throat as I realized what exactly I was looking at.

It was Jackson's red jeep, and Vivian, my best friend, was on top of him, riding his cock hard, tits bouncing, moaning his name like a slut. The video was obviously filmed from right outside the window. Clear as fucking day. They didn’t even have the decency to wind the window up.

“No…” Tears filled my eyes instantly, shaking my head furiously. “It’s not possible.”

He set the phone down. “I have been watching you a lot longer than three nights, Tesoro.” He leaned in, voice dropping. “And I’ve got a surprise for you.” 

He picked the phone back up, hit a number, and spoke into it, very calm, as if he were ordering takeout. “Bring him in.”

The door opened a minute later. Another man, big, silent, clearly one of his guys, dragged someone into the room. 

It was Jackson, my boyfriend. Blindfolded, his hands tied behind his back. The guy shoved him down hard onto his knees right beside the bed.

I gasped. “Jackson?”

His head snapped up at my voice, blindfold still on. “Jenna? Is that you? What the hell is going on?”

I stared at him, my vision blurred by the fresh tears that still clung to my lashes.

Gio leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across his face. He was clearly loving every second of this.

“So, tell me, amore mio, what do you want me to do with him?” he turned to me, green eyes settled on me.