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CHAPTER SIXTEEN
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THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Before he came toward her he began to remove his suit jacket, placing the ruler on the table beside her. He took off the jacket and removed the cufflinks of his shirt all the while maintaining eye contact with her, his eyes brooding with intent, the intensity in his eyes overwhelming her senses as he began to roll up the sleeves of his shirt revealing to her forearms that were muscular and tanned.Picking up the ruler, he came closer to her and stood in front of her. “Now, to your disobedience.”He looked her up and down, from her startlingly dark eyes that held the mysteries inside of her, to her mouth now wonderfully gagged, down to her nakedness.Without warning, he flicked the ruler between her legs, not hard, just a flick, but it caught her precisely on her clitoris, giving it a sudden stimulating touch that sent a shocking vibration of pleasure from between her legs to deep inside of her. He did it again and then again, little swift flicks that shockingly had her hands gripping
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
She had never done what he suggested she do, had never been asked. She bent to take her shoes off. “Heels on.” He told her. She climbed on to the bed; nerves getting to her again, his natural confidence making her feel more shy now. She put one knee on the far side over his body, missing touching his cock, finding herself above his chest, while she placed the other knee down on the bed. She didn’t know quite what to do. He looked up at her.“I said sit on my face and that is what I expect you to do. I need to taste you, feel your beautiful lips on mine. “She inched up slowly toward his face. He realised her reticence must be down to inexperience. He put a hand out and reached between her legs, gently stroking her clitoris as he looked into her eyes. “Let me taste you.”As he stroked her she felt herself letting go, meeting his eyes with equal hunger as he quickly brought her to the edge to orgasm with his fingers. “Good girl.”She moved upward until she reached his mouth, hover
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER NINETEEN
The next morning Genevieve experienced the greatest shock of her life , excited at the thought of seeing him only to realize she was all alone , his clothes were gone and every traces of him gone . she realised for the first time in so long how fuck up she had become. She wondered what she was expecting as she looked on in silence .On the way through the corridor she met the man from last night" Please is the man I came with still here ." " No he left and your checkout time have been extended."" fuck what , what's that ."" this place was rented last night and .....". " I get you ." Genevieve interrupted quickly with embarrassment all over her faceShe walked so fast to the room as fast as her legs could carry her , so all they had were lies , for once that she was in love and it turned out to be lies , is this what her book lacked " lies lies lies ." She exclaimed in tears as she wore her clothes and picked her bag . This was definitely not how she expected their end . He didn'
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER TWENTY
Three years later things were different for Genevieve , it was her fifth book signing and Ash was also having a flower showcase with a lot of people coming in and out . Genevieve smiled as she signed the books. She decided to take a break to say hi to some friends and engage in interactions, she was walking towards Ash to see how her flower sales were doing and behind Ash stood the devil she had cursed everyday. Genevieve stood there for a minute, or two, or three. A bubble encased her, shutting out the world and time. Christ. She'd lost her mind. The slow song in the room faded, as a frenetic beat superseded it. Dazed, she wandered back to the table. Her body thrummed. Her thoughts whirled. She clambered onto her stool and clutched her empty champagne glass. Too much alcohol, that was it. The bubbly carbonated her brain and rendered her a mute, overheated puddle of desperation. Her. The control freak. This was why she rarely drank and never overindulged. If a girl couldn't cut lo
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Clint stared at the phone in his hand, not sure what to think. Myriad emotions rolled through him: disgust, guilt, excitement. The guilt was premature. The disgust was warranted. The excitement was the problem. As repulsed as he was by his actions three years ago.gift, his cock had twitched in his pants the moment he saw Genevieve . He did not believe he would see her again only to meet her at Ash's flower shop , he walked up to his shelf to find the folder that contained informations about her , back then he went through it briefly without taking his time and surprisingly he realized things he didn't pay attention to . She wasn't married and she was a writer. " shit ." He exclaimed as he banged his hand on the table inside his roomHe really need to do something before she reveals his secrets to the world because she was present during his meetings and aware of his life outside being a doctor, he waited desperately for her reply for the text he had earlier sent her .he sighed wh
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
" you now stalk me."Clint gave her a long-suffering look. "I didn't mean it that way."Her shoulders sagged, but she buttressed them with a long breath. "Iknow you think I am going to expose your secrets but to be honest, I care less."For a moment, he studied the tabletop, head bowed. Just when she thought she'd admire his hair, he raised his head. "I thought you needed explanations?"She folded her arms over her belly, not quite ready to delve into thatsubject. "We need to talk about our last night together ."Why had she mentioned it? She'd intended to steer way clear of thetopic, but here she was veering straight into oncoming traffic. Okay, sowhat had she meant to discuss with him? Not a goddamn clue."I'm thirsty," she blurted out. She took a menu from the napkin standand pretended to be obsessed with it. "Starving too. Let's order first, okay?"His irritated sigh raked across her nerves. "Whatever you want."There was the problem. She had no idea what she wan
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
The elevator doors spread wide before them. Butterflies flittered in herstomach.Clint hustled out into the hallway, his hand clamped around hers, hisexpression one of pained resolve. The rock-hard erection stretching hispants taut might've had something to do with his expression—and hisruthless pace. They'd made out in his car all the way to their destination,shamelessly oblivious of hisd driver. Her lips still tingled from hisdemanding, almost frenzied kisses. She'd responded in kind, as frantic as hewas to get naked and get it on.He halted them at the door to his apartment. His voice rough, he asked,"Are you good??"" yes ." Her desperate voice betrayed her "Uh-huh." He stared at her for a couple of seconds, as if seeing her forthe first time. Then he shook off his confusion—literally, with a flap of hishead. He unlocked the door, ushering her inside with a hand on her back.Her mind traveled back to the moment before entering the car when he scooped her
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Genevieve rubbed her bare arms, buck naked yet not embarrassed at all. How did Clint do this to her? Make her aroused and aware, of her body and his, without an ounce of guilt. A draft tickled her flesh, sensitized by hot sex and Clint's sizzling gaze on her, the eye contact somehow more thrilling thanhis touch. He gazed at her with more than lust, with…adoration.He skimmed his hands down her body, over her shoulders and aroundher back, down her spine and back around to her sides. His fingers curvedaround her hips.The memory of Clint ripping off her panties and thrusting into heragain and again roared through her mind in a full-sensory experience. Noman had ever ravished her before. When he'd carried her into the bedroom, plopping her down beside the bed, her heartbeat had revved up at the hope he might keep on ravishing her. Though satiated by her explosive orgasm,she craved more of him. Would she ever stop craving Clint Covington ?He stood before her, his jeans undon
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THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN
Five months later Clint slept well and rose early to use the gym at his house before leaving for the office. He had several meetings this morning, both business and charitable affairs. He was overseeing the building of a state of the art residential centre for the disabled and it was very close to completion. He was very happy with it and looking forward to its opening.He was the first to arrive. He saw Rafalle come in behind him. Once they had all arrived he held a quick team meeting with the brokers, ensuring everything was running smoothly and he was up to speed. He opened Genevieve’s door. “How is your head today?”“Oh, much better, thank you.”“Good.” He left her to her work, no time for anything else, though it occupied his mind constantly. Genevieve was pleased he had come in, happy that things still seemed to be ok between them. She has kept her pregnancy from him because she had feared he wasn't ready , somehow he found out she was hiding something and he has been cold t
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER FORTY SIX
Clint sat in his den with Raffalle over copious amounts of alcohol.“Well?”Since the previous day, he’d been a crazed lunatic, intent on revengeand blood and death for the bullets that had been meant for him but had hitthe woman he loved instead.“It was one of Dogan Hampster men. When I caught up to him, he wouldn’t talk.Brady and I had to overpower him and tie him down. It took hours before Igot the full story.”“And?”“You won’t like it. Beatrice told him what you did to Alva’shusband and how you were going to settle down with Genevieve and stop all business .”Clint paced the floor, regret and the weight of responsibility crushinghim. Beatrice should never have been at their family Christmas. But even so,if he hadn’t played with her, used her body and screwed with her mind, shemight not have gone to one of his business men set on instigating violence.“I know Beatrice is your best friend and you and Beatrice have history,but she’s a loose cannon. She’s da
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER FORTY FIVE
Genevieve stood at the back of the rows of chairs with her veil in place, abouquet of white roses in her hands. The wedding was all white. Whitechairs. White flowers. White candles. A white runner on the ground for herto walk on. The only thing besides the tuxedos that weren’t white were theclothing of the guests and her bright red hair.The reception, by contrast, had been planned under large tents withJapanese lanterns and bright jewel tones. It reminded Genevieve of the Wizard ofOz where everything went from black and white to color, and it gave her thesmallest shred of hope that her life with Clint would be in color.Raffalle had offered to walk her down the aisle. He stood next to herlooking more like an aging bodyguard than a father figure.He leaned close to her ear. “I think you know a lot more about thisfamily than you should.” Her back went rigid. Raffalle was the type of man who would shootyou on any day of the year, be it your birthday, your graduati
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER FORTY FOUR
Genevieve sat in front of a mirror in the many-windowed room in the eastwing. Her wedding veil lay before her on the vanity table.Alva hadoffered to help her get ready, but it was only a ruse to try to talk Genevieve out ofmarrying her Clint . It was anathema to her that Clint should be happy afterkilling her husband.“I know Clint is very charming, but you know what he did toElliott . What makes you think you’re safe with him?”As if Genevieve needed more things to fear. Though Clint hadn’t harmed her since that one night, it always existed as a possibility now.“Clint loves me,” she said. It hurt to say it because he’d never uttered the words, and she had no reason to believe it. But people assumedmarriage was about love, and if she didn’t speak in terms of romance and candy that his sister could relate to, someone might see through the whole ploy. And they were so close to the end.“Clint loves Clint .”Clint held back the urge to cry as Alva gave voice to her grea
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER FORTY THREE
Clint’s erection had grown physically painful, but he’d gagged her andwasn’t ready to replace the gag with his cock yet. Tears streamed down herface as he laid down lines of welts across her ass with the cane. He neededto make her cry more. She had to earn her pleasure with tears. Enough timehad passed for that to be the price.The gag frightened her, still, which drove him harder to use it. She needn’t fear. He knew when enough was enough with her. He’d beencareful and exercised restraint. Each time the cane came down, she wincedin a way that both made him want to comfort her and hit her again to watchthat reaction… the intense expression of pain on her face, the tears that rolled down, and the lovely welt as it bloomed so quickly into those sharp red lines with the groove he loved to run his tongue along.He knew what the cane felt like. Though, used properly, it didn’t oftenbreak skin, the hard rap of a thin dowel of rattan or steel always left aprofound impress
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER FORTY TWO
Genevieve , did you know that a lot of what we call pain is about expectation? When you expect something to hurt a lot, and you tense allyour muscles, it hurts more. If you can relax and flow with it, it hurts less.Think of yourself like a stream flowing softly over rocks. The jagged edgesof the rocks don’t hurt the water, it just flows.” He allowed his voice to drop an octave as he spoke, becoming softer and less harsh, lulling her into a sense of safety.The music he’d selected fit well with the imagery he fed into her mind.He spoke quietly about water and flow and relaxing while he let his hands trail over her back, still wrapped in the warm cocoon of the blanket.He continued to speak as he went to the thermostat to raise it a couple of degrees. As the room warmed, he took the blanket away. She tensed, but not as much as before, so he poured some oil onto his hands to allow his skin to slide more easily against hers.He started at her neck, then worked down her back and
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER FORTY ONE
Weeks passed. Clint healed. They returned to the world upstairs.He watched her across the table at dinner—her cheeseburger special.He didn’t know how she made them taste like they’d come right off arestaurant grill.Genevieve pretended to be consumed with the task of swirling a steak fry in a giant glob of ketchup on her plate.“I’ll speak to Raffalle . He might agree to release you if I convince him you aren’t a threat to the family. And I’ll smooth things over with your boss, so you won’t have to worry about him, either. To everyone else, I’ll say webroke off the engagement.”Genevieve’s ring glittered in the kitchen light. Clint hadn’t insisted she wear it all the time, but she had. And every time he saw it on her hand, he became more convinced she wanted their engagement to be real.But her happy ending came at a dark price… a price Clint felt increasingly guilty asking her to pay, no matter how much he wanted to keep her locked away in the glass room. If that night in
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER FORTY
The eerie music played on as they lay in bed. Some of the songs she recognized, some she didn’t. There couldn’t be more than an hour on the record. Hadn’t they been down here months? Years? But it must have been less than an hour. Was time even real? The curtain had been pulled back to reveal the void where every second was eternity, and there was no way back out again to where time marched on like obedient linear soldiers.She’d tried to prepare herself for the hitting, but when Clint bent her over and fucked her instead while she was too scared to be turned on, itbrought everything home. She was his property. She didn’t want this, but he’d been in the grip of something she didn’t feel strong enough to breakthrough. The Clint that acknowledged her wouldn’t be the one she thought she’d fallen in love with.Whatever romantic fantasies she’d had of love between them scattered and faded into the empty air. Why did it have to be like this?And to allow him to kiss her like that… to r
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
Genevieve’s appetite had fled the moment he’d said he was taking her to thedungeon. She was glad he hadn’t forced her to eat dinner because she was sure she wouldn’t be able to keep it down.For the past week she’d been on edge, her appetite shrinking each day.If Clint had noticed, he hadn’t said anything. Each day she woke wondering if today was the day. She wasn’t like those other women. She couldn’t do this.The reality of what was coming should have made her hate him. It should have wiped away any residual attraction or fuzzy emotion. If it could have, she might have begged to be released from her promise. Even if itmeant she’d never have love or companionship, it would protect her from the things downstairs.But she still felt for him, and watching him take other women wouldonly kill her by degrees. When he’d pulled her into his arms, he was the safest person in the world. She’d almost forgotten he was the cause of her angst.When he opened that metal door, she thought
