The Power of a Woman: A Mafia Erotic Romance (5 page)

Game on…

I was shocked to see that the place hadn’t been updated from the seventies’ wood paneling.
Probably still talking about the Lufthansa heist
, I thought, rolling my eyes. Guineas! Ugh. A few old wise guys drinking espresso gaped at me as I took the stairs. I pushed my dark sunglasses above my head and threw a wink their way.
That’s right, you fuckers, the enemy is in the house
.

A long flight of stairs was another daunting task. My skirt—a second skin—wasn’t very practical for these steps. With my hand on the banister, I slowly, but confidently, made my way up. Upon reaching the top step, I heard a harsh voice yelling in Italian beyond the door in front of me. My heart thumped steadily against my ribcage like a drum, creating the soundtrack to my sudden nerves.

I blew out a long breath.
Should I knock?
Nah.

Strutting confidently into the office, I immediately noticed the modern theme it was decorated in. A tall, dark, suited man stood with his back to me, arguing over the phone in Italian. I let the door slam behind me and stood beside it, waiting for his attention to be drawn my way. The face that met mine wasn’t the one I had expected. I
expected
Stefan’s father, Mick. However, the man in front of me had a scar that ran from the outside of his left brow to the corner of his lip—Zeke, the infamous underboss.

His lip curled into a cruel snarl of a smile as he hung up the phone. “Well. Well. Well,” he said, tsking as he tilted his head, taking me in with his devilish eyes.

Every nerve in my body recoiled, but my face remained stoic. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me afraid. It quickly became apparent that everything about this man’s demeanor screamed coldness, aloofness, and self-absorption.

My chin jutted forward in defiance as I threw my bag on the chair in front of his desk. It didn’t matter how many alarm bells sounded in my mind, because I had one goal to accomplish, and that was to save my brother. So I ignored my inner warnings and set about with a hardened attitude, not once letting on how I felt on the inside. With my spine straight and my shoulders squared, I said, “I’m sure you know why I’m here. So drop the sneer and let’s get to it. I don’t have all day.”

His brow raised and his smile widened in calculation. “This sneer?” He leaned forward, arms bracing on his desk. His entire demeanor sent a roll of nausea through me.

“Yeah, that one.” I couldn’t help but curl my lip in disgust. He was one ugly, hard-looking fucker. “I’m here to barter,” I said, finally taking a seat and throwing one leg over the other to punctuate my intent.

“Oh, really.” He stood up, folding his arms, gazing at me with dark, cold eyes. “Do you even understand the meaning of bartering? And what makes you think you have anything I’d want?”

“Let’s not play me for a fool. I happen to know how much you enjoy the company of a woman.” I shrugged, turning to plan B. This hadn’t been my original negotiating ploy, since I thought I’d be dealing with Stefan’s father. But this actually worked out better in my favor. Sick bastards like the one in front of me were easily played, and I was a fantastic player.

“And what would you have in mind?”

“You can have me for a week. Make me your…slave so to speak.”

He laughed, but it wasn’t humorous. It was disgusting and made my skin crawl. The sight of his yellow teeth caused me to inwardly cringe, while keeping the alluring smile on my face. “I don’t need a maid or a cook. But nice try, little one.”

“That’s good because I have no interest in cleaning your toilets or frying you an egg. I had something else in mind.” I waited until I knew I had his attention before continuing. Once he lifted an eyebrow, I knew I had him intrigued enough to finish hearing me out. “I’ve heard through the grapevine that you have a bit of a…fetish, if that’s what you want to call it.”

His lips pursed as he gave me a lazy shrug. “I’m not sure I’d call it that. Let’s just say I have singular tastes.” He perused my body from head to toe, making sure I knew it. “I’m not sure you can handle that,
little one
.”

Everyone knew he was a sadistic prick of a lover. I didn’t relish the thought of laying myself bare for Scarface—however, in the interest of my brother and family, I’d do anything to put this to bed. Even if that meant letting this disgusting human being defile me for a week. “Don’t judge a book by its cover, Mr. Russo. I just might be able to fulfill one or two of those…
tastes
.”

He walked around the desk to his humidor, reaching for a cigar. “Let’s just say I’m not the kind of man that will go buy a car without a test drive first.” He twirled the cigar in his meaty fingers. “I’d hate to get you home, only to find out you’re too
weak
to handle me.” The need to humiliate me came off him like stink of a skunk, and it only served to flame my fire. His perception of weakness was clearly different from mine…mine was my brother, not my abilities in the bedroom. “And what exactly are you searching for out of this…
barter
?”

“I want my brother’s debt to be erased.”

He tilted his head back dramatically and released an evil laughed. It was loud and covered my skin, crawling on my flesh like the cockroach he was. “Matteo has racked up quite a debt. Half a million. I don’t even pay the professionals that kind of money to make me come. What makes you think you’re worth that much?”

I stood and waited for his cackles to end, stepping closer to him until I knew I had his attention. “The moment my pussy is wrapped around your cock, you’ll forget what a dollar sign looks like. The moment your balls pull tight with the need to come, you’ll have forgotten how to count. And the moment my cunt milks you, taking every last drop, you won’t even know the value of a dollar anymore. You will no longer remember the scent of a Benjamin…because the only thing you’ll crave is the scent of me.”

That seemed to catch his attention. The corners of his mouth curved up as he slowly licked his lips, eyes directed at the small amount of cleavage peeking out over my neckline.

“Before I consider your ‘barter,’ as you call it, I’m going to need something from you—a guarantee if you will. Why don’t you to hike that skirt up so I can see what I’m dealing with. Better yet, come sit on my desk…spread those legs, and make yourself come with this.” He held out the cigar he’d pulled from his humidor while his salacious smirk grew into a full, stomach-churning smile. His yellowed teeth reminded me of urinal slime and nearly caused me to gag, but I held it in and stoned my expression to keep him from recognizing my disinterest. My stomach lurched forward, but I proceeded to his desk as instructed, chanting to myself with every step that this was all for the sake of my brother.

I sucked in the tiniest of breaths and briefly closed my eyes before grabbing the cigar from his meaty hand. In one fell swoop, I slid the items off his desk in defiance, hoping it portrayed a fearless attitude. I needed him to believe that I could handle anything he gave me if I ever expected him to take me up on my offer. But my display only made him laugh. I wanted to fucking scream, and then make him choke on his cigar as I rammed it down his throat. I shrugged my skirt up to my hips and inched my ass across his desk. Opening my legs wide, I carefully balanced myself on the heels of my pumps, making sure he had a decent view.

He hastily snatched a chair and sat between my legs, his pants already tented. He began to unzip, the familiar sound echoing around me and dancing on my frayed nerves.

This is for your brother, Jordana
. I needed one last reminder of my purpose before going through with this degrading act, because without it, I would’ve taken off out that door and never looked back. I may have indulged in sexual freedom prior to meeting Stefan, but I’d never been the kind to juggle more than one man at a time. Even thinking about going behind Stefan’s back for this filthy man soured my stomach, but I didn’t have a choice in the matter. Not to mention, Stefan and I hadn’t really had the “exclusive” talk. The closest we came to it was last night when he told me I was his. And although I knew in my heart that those words were his claim on me, I had to ignore it and use the loophole in my favor. Without it, I wouldn’t be able to follow through with this. And without this, things would get very ugly for my family.

I pulled my panties to the side and took a deep breath, centering myself and finding my control. I needed to block everything else out and focus on the here and now. On my exhale, I pushed the rough cigar into my wet opening. My pussy gave way, and for a moment, I was able to imagine it was Stefan sitting in front of me, enjoying my little performance.

“Eyes on me, little one.” His voice came out thick and commanding, forcing my eyes open. I had no desire to look at him while pleasuring myself. I didn’t need to have Scarface as a visual—not because he’d disgust me too much to continue, but because I didn’t need his twisted gaze haunting me every time I’d close my eyes.

The sharp pinch of the thick cigar awakened the anger inside, and it fueled me to keep going. As I fed the cigar deep inside my pussy, I blocked out the hungry stare of the man in front of me and used my imagination to disconnect myself from reality. Eventually, I began to melt into the cigar’s harsh outer leaf until it became damp enough from my forced arousal.

To keep from drying up at the sight of Scarface pleasuring himself, I focused my attention on his exposed erection. I focused so hard on it that everything else began to blur into the background, leaving nothing else in my line of site other than his large hand painfully gripping his thick cock, pumping his fist vigorously. I used that visual to keep going, becoming more and more turned on the longer I envisioned being someone other than myself, somewhere other than here, with anyone other than the disgusting man in front of me.

His aggressive strokes matched my momentum pump for pump. With my headspace filled with erotic images, the cigar moistened to new levels, easing the pinch and pull caused by the leaf paper. I knew I was close. I knew I needed to hurry things along, not wanting to drag this presentation out longer than needed. To push myself over the edge, I replayed Stefan’s words in my mind, hearing him demand me to come on command. My legs began to shake and the urge to buck hit me hard. But I needed more. Faster and deeper I drove, angling the cigar’s abrasive skin against my g-spot as I pumped. Copper coated the tip of my tongue, alerting me of how hard I’d bitten my lip. That one pinch of pain was all I needed to jump off the cliff, releasing my cries of ecstasy as I came all over his desk. He stood, pumping the last of his orgasm across both of my thighs.

The warmth of his cum sent my mind spiraling into turmoil. I was livid that I’d actually gotten off so hard, and ashamed that it’d been in front of someone other than Stefan. It disgusted me that I now wore his excitement on my skin, knowing it didn’t belong there. I hated myself for what I’d done. No…I
loathed
myself. But I couldn’t retreat now. I couldn’t rewind time and take it all back. I had to protect my family, and if I couldn’t use money or my brain to do it, then I’d have to use the only asset I had left. I had to use my pussy—use
sex
—to do it. I couldn’t afford to let the guilt over my betrayal to Stefan get in the way of saving my brother, no matter how much it ate at me inside.
I had no other choice
.

I pushed myself up and off of the desk, pulling my skirt back into place. I didn’t give a shit that his disgusting cum was left smeared along my thighs. I was done, I was over it, and I just wanted his agreement so that I could leave. His pants were still unzipped, and he held his softening cock in his hand. I ignored it as I narrowed my eyes, wearing my best poker face, and asked, “Deal?”

He smirked as he brought his face close to mine.

I stopped him with my hand on his chest, turning my cheek to him. “No kissing—
ever
.”

“Fine with me, kitty.” He stood and pushed his cock back into his pants.

“My name’s Jordana, and I’m
not
your kitty.” I grabbed my bag from the seat by the door, ready to march out. I wanted his agreement to use me as payment so I could get the hell out and prepare myself for what may lay ahead of me.

His laugh echoed in the small space, making me question my decision once more. I had to shake those doubts away and remind myself of whom I am: Jordana Albanese, the woman capable of bringing grown men to their knees with a whispered promise of spending a night between my legs. I’d done it before, and I could do it again. If only I’d stop thinking of Stefan and my guilt for going behind his back.

Before putting the cigar in his suit jacket, Zeke ran it beneath his nose, taking in a full whiff of my scent I’d left behind. “Oh, Jordana. You’re mine this week. At my beck and call. You will stay at my fuck house. You will not leave until our time has expired, and you will be ready for me at all times.” His eyes were glazed over by the remnants of lust, but that didn’t hide the darkness in their depths. “Oh, and you’re not to wash that cunt before seeing me again. One hour. I expect you at this address.”