All Chapters of THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

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 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

A tickling sensation feathered across her face rousing Genevieve from a dreamless slumber. She yawned and scratched at her face. The tickling moved to her forehead. She peeled her eyes open, reluctant to give up her languid serenity. Holding a lock of her hair, Clint had fanned it out into a little brush and was skipping it along her brow. During the night, she'd turned onto her side and he now spooned herwith his hard body oddly soft against her backside. One of his musculararms draped over the pillow above her head with his hand lying slack. That was the one tickling her with her own hair. His other arm rested on her body, stretched over her hip, his fingers manipulating the flesh of her thigh,stimulating her to full wakefulness and keen awareness of him. She inhaled deeply, stretching, reveling in the enduring afterglow oftheir fevered passion.He pressed his lips to her ear. "Morning."An object poked her from behind. A long, hard object. She cleared herthroat. "It's hal

“Good. Now, there are servants in the house. Don’t take that as hope. They will not help you. The phone goes through a switchboard. The operator won’t help you either. If you seek their help, they will report it to me and you’ll be punished.”She flinched at the warm hand on the back of her neck, but he wasn’t there to hurt her. Instead, he massaged the tight muscles, a feeling that was comforting in spite of everything. She shouldn’t want his hands anywhere near her, but if she was stuck with this man, she much preferred kindness to cruelty or pain.“I can’t let you go, and I won’t be able to resist killing you . But I’ll be good to you if you let me, Genevieve . Are you going to let me?”Each time her name rolled off his tongue, it was as if a piece of her will broke off from her and floated away. She wanted to argue about belonging to him but knew that wasn’t the way to get to the kindness he offered. She nodded, not wanting to have to call him his name again. He let it slide.

Dave stared at the moon shining in through the large windows, gritting his teeth as Genevieve’s breath evened out in sleep, the cat still purring in her arms. It was so simple. She was attracted to him. She was desperate to stay safe. That equation should have added up right.But the amount of terror she’d experienced at a mild spanking told him all he needed to know. If there had been any doubt, when he’d slipped his finger inside her, he’d known. She’d been dry. No arousal. No reaction. She wasn’t kinky. Not even a little bit.In a perfect world, Genevieve would have had secret fantasies about being dominated her whole life. She would have tried to resist, but her body would betray her.No matter how scared and upset she was, her cunt would have been at least a little wet. Her clit would be swollen. She’d be flushed and flustered. If she already found him physically attractive, which she’d admitted to, a mild spanking would have her body reacting to him in a favorable way. Instea