Dancing for the Mob Boss Page 3
“I know you want to be a good girl,” he said, plucking his slick fingers from my cunny, glistening with my moisture. “But you just can’t help it tonight, can you?” he said, licking his digits to taste my flavour and savour it so lewdly, right before offering what was left to me.
My mouth dropped open as he licked his fingers, only to be presented with them.
I’d never been a particularly kinky girl, stripper or no, and tasting myself from his fingers was pretty high up there on my list of things I wouldn’t think I was into.
But my mouth captured his digits and suckled him free of that sweet honey, even as my heart raced.
“I’ve never been bad,” I said, the taste of my own cunny lingering upon my tongue.
“I believe it. You taste so sweet and delicious after all,” he said to me with such fond sincerity. He gave the signal and the door opened, leaving him just enough time to do up the fur coat again.
Luc got out and helped me out next, my heels clicking upon the pavement in front of the ritziest hotel in the city. After that it was all so dizzying, the lights and glamour of that expensive place, the staff eager to be of help to Luc and I, but were kept at bay by the glowering guards.
He claimed an elevator just for us, and his guard shooed off another man before inserting a key to take us to a private level.
The moment that was done though, Luc was upon me again, opening my coat and putting his arm in around my bare waist as he kissed me. That guard of his not daring to look our way as Luc’s lips went to my neck, nibbling and suckling.
I know, it’s strange that I dance, naked, for a crowded room of strangers and that I’d feel embarrassed with some PDA, but it was more what he was making me feel. On stage, I might feel excited, or powerful, but when Luc’s lips pressed against my throat it was like the lewdest and most sensual thoughts in the world were visible to all.
I couldn’t hide my moan, the way I was gulping for breath, how flushed my skin was.
That elevator ride was agonizingly long and short all at once, it was titillating and embarrassing having Luc experience me like he did so lewdly. Yet I didn’t want it to end, but end it did when we got to his room. A lavish suite that looked like it must’ve taken up most of the floor all by itself.
Maybe it did!
We abandoned his guard there at the door in an alcove, shutting the door to that entry room. I should’ve been more impressed by the lavish room, its numerous row of windows overlooking the city. But Luc made it hard to focus on anything but him.
He guided me along, arm about my waist as my fur coat sank down from her shoulders, hanging from my elbows. He took me over towards the large leather sofa and stopped, looking me over, inspecting me again.
“Exquisite,” he remarked. “I am taken with your beauty, my ex-dancer. Now tell me. What is your real name?” he asked, like so many other men had before him, though they had so much less going for them than him.
For one, I’d never been so turned on in my life.
My lips dropped open, and for a second I wanted to delay it. To not tell him, to make him want to punish me all the more.
But more than teasing him, I wanted him to take me, and my real name tumbled forth despite any caution or worry I should’ve felt.
“Alice,” I murmured.
He repeated my name, making it sound so much sexier in his gruff, gravelly voice. He let his hard, strong hands slide up beneath the fur coat, pulling it slowly from my arms and leaving me nude but for my panties and heels.
“Bend over the end of the sofa, Alice,” he told me, tossing the coat to the floor out of the way, treating such an expensive item with casual dismissal as all his attention was reserved for me.
“Nobody can break one of my rules without consequence,” he explained so evenly. “Not even a stunning beauty like you,” he said, reaching up to cup my cheek and stroke his thumb along my lower lip.
I suckled it in, looking up at him with wide eyes that betrayed a little of my fear and my fire. My desire to argue and tell him he was wrong, that I needed my job back. That I never would’ve broken the rules if I hadn’t been scared or known he was the boss.
But it would’ve been a lie.
I wasn’t scared.
I just wanted him inside me. And if bending over the sofa might get me his cock faster...
I pulled back slightly, looking to the armrest, then back to him.
“What are you going to do to me?”
“Just do, don’t ask,” he said to me in that even tempered voice of his that betrayed no unpleasantness. No mistrust. He shrugged his blazer off his shoulders, and slipped it slowly off. It left him in his fine shirt and tie, with that holster dangling from one side, showing the gleaming metal of his handgun.
He carefully draped his jacket over the coffee table and loosened his tie, watching me all the while he removed it.
My eyes dropped to the gun, taking it in silently before I looked back to the end of the sofa. I was already so bare, in only my black Maryjane platform heels and the dripping panties, but I felt even more exposed as I turned, walking the small distance towards the end of the couch, resting my forearms on it, tilted at a 90 degree angle as I watched him intently.
He shed his expensive, European cut tie, removed the holster that held that weapon and set both aside on the opulent chair that waited there. His eyes upon me all the while he undid his sleeves and rolled them up to his elbows, showing those thick, bulging forearms of his, rippling with veins and muscles.
He finished finally, and made his way over to me.
“It’s okay,” he said, stroking my hair the arch of my spine, being so gentle as his other hand cupped my ass cheeks and gave them a squeeze.
Though I knew something was to come.
The first crack of his palm let me know what exactly. That hard, strong hand smacking across my round cheeks with a loud sound that filled the room. He wasn’t gentle, but he wasn’t brutal either, it was a focussed, smooth smack of his hand upon my flesh.
But with how excited my nerves were, it felt like my world went white with the jolt.
My posture went hard, and for the briefest seconds, I wanted to walk out. To leave him, to just run home and hide from all the bad decisions I’d already made without going another step further.
As I teetered in my heels, forearms pressing into the fine sofa, my vision returned and I sucked in a breath.
I had to do something. To say that wasn’t acceptable.
I stood up, or, well, I tried to. That hand on my spine kept me pinned.
He must have felt the conflict in me, because he stroked my spine comfortingly, spoke to me in a hushed voice that was so fatherly with its paternal concern.
“Shh, it’s okay. Just a little bit more,” he said before the next smack of his hand landed, and he continued to spank me, lightly at first, bringing that blood to the surface and making my pale flesh go rouge. I looked over my shoulders at him, at my ass, and shuddered as the sting went through me.
Another came, and that powerful mobster just exacted the price for my indiscretions. My out of control lusts that had made me break the rules for the first time in my life.
But he was just warming me up, getting my nerves primed and ready for the true assault.
It made the spanks of earlier seem like childsplay as his hand cracked down upon my supple ass with such force it drove me forwards and I nearly collapsed at the shocking and quick punishment.
“No!” I cried, but there was no one to hear me. We were alone in his penthouse, all but his guard completely blocked out from hearing my cries.
And a swanky hotel, for the penthouse? I was almost positive it had to have some soundproofing for the wealthy clientele. Especially when they included the mob.
My eyes went to the gun on the table, and I felt a shiver go through me of real terror, but then his hand cracked down on me again and I lost my vision for a moment.
“No girl breaks the rules in my club,” he chasti
sed, and for a moment I hated him. He’d teased me, turned me on to the point that I couldn’t help but cum. He’d tempted me to break the rules, forced me to teeter along that line.
My knees trembled as his hand rubbed my stinging flesh, the soft touch contrasting to the hard spank that followed.
“Shhh,” he said to me about my whimpering, taking hold of my cheek and guiding my face towards his again. “It’s okay,” he said, rubbing some of the moisture from my cheek with his thumb.
“It had to be done, because I don’t want to hold anything against you, sweet Alice,” he said so calmly and affectionately, leaning in and placing another of his soft, romantic kisses to my lips.
My body was still quivering as I stood, as I reluctantly wrapped my arms around his neck. It was such a contrast, the warmth and softness of his kiss contrasting against the angry heat of my backside.
I didn’t even notice until kissing him that I was breathing so hard, my chest heaving as I tried to suck in oxygen through my nose.
Those big strong arms wrapped around me, and he wasn’t using them to make me hurt anymore, he was instead holding me, comforting me, rubbing me fondly. Such hard hands upon my soft flesh. As our tongues entwined, he lifted me up off the floor and carried me in his arms on into the bedroom.
The large, lavish bed was room enough for a whole group, but he laid me out gently among the sea of cushioning comforters and pillows.
He rose back then, and I watched as he unbuttoned his shirt, showing off that thick, ripped chest of his. Bulging pecs and abs, biceps that could be used to easily crush a man. Suddenly those spanks of his no longer seemed like the worst he could do; they were controlled and gentle compared to what he was capable of.
And there, along his right arm, he had a large, black tattoo. Something I didn’t recognize, a symbol maybe? But it looked scary, ominous even. Another adorned his chest, of a simple rose.
I’d been with my last boyfriend since I was 18, and I’d never been with anyone else. Even when I was dancing, that had always been business, and I never mixed it with pleasure.
Until Luc.
I looked over his body with such curiosity, such interest, and couldn’t help but compare him to my ex. He was so much more filled out, so much more masculine, and I found myself staring at the tattoo, trying to figure out what it was. My hands went to it, curiously rubbing over his veins and the dark symbol.
“What’s it mean?” I asked, breathlessly.
He watched me, let my soft fingers roam over the hard muscles and jutting veins of his body as he unbuttoned his pants at the side of the bed.
“That one means in matters of life and death, I am judge as the right hand of God,” he stated so casually. “It means I am The Boss. The boss of bosses, with no higher authority on earth,” he said just half a moment before he dropped his pants and the snug boxer-briefs beneath it, letting a thick slab of meaty cock spring out, so long and hard, suspended over a pair of heavy balls.
I should’ve been more concerned at his words. He was the right hand of God? In control of life and death?
Those were definite things that should’ve made me run back to my simple life, beg for my job back, and live the rest of my life with my head low.
But instead, my eyes were on his package, and my hand gripped his arm tighter.
I could feel my entire body ache, and I had to squirm just at the sight of his organ. Even my mouth was watering, and I’d never been much of a fan of giving blow jobs. But Luc... He could reform me.
He shed his clothes entirely and got up onto the bed with me upon his knees, those thick, muscular thighs spread as he got in close, his hand stroking my hair, guiding me towards that massive, rigid cock of his.
“I know you want to taste,” he said to me, the masculine musk off that organ clean but heady and strong. “Just like I had to have a taste of you, sweet Alice.”
My stomach flipped.
It was so crass, but I couldn’t deny my mouth was watering and I was curious. Just to see what it’d feel like in my mouth, so hard and thick.
I gulped for a breath, trying to hide my excitement, my shyness, as they warred with each other, but I didn’t have a choice. His fingers were entwined with my dark hair and he brought my head right before his throbbing member so that I didn’t have a choice but to grab it. To hold onto it before it smacked me in the face.
I was scared, but I opened my mouth, and took him in, letting my tongue flick against the head before running along the underside of his cock.
A low groan rumbled from deep within his chest as he watched me work my tongue along his thick, swollen cock. The simple act of my tasting that thick, marvellously stony crown making the large man look so pleased.
He pet my hair with one hand, while the other reached down and stroked the cusp of my breast, reaching in to knead his palm over that mound of supple flesh. All while his cock throbbed obscenely in my mouth, stretching my jaw as he watched.
“Good girl. I knew you were a good girl from the moment we laid eyes on each other,” he husked in a gravelly voice.
I would’ve liked to think I’d have argued, that I would’ve reminded him that I just lost my job for being naughty, but instead my mouth moved further along his shaft.
He was huge. Like, bigger than my dildo huge.
I was practically quivering with need, and I brought a hand down to my thighs, pressing in beneath the panties and feeling how soaking wet I was. My shaved little pussy was dripping with my juices and my fingers slid into my cunny so easily.
But they didn’t bring anything more than another tease, because what I wanted most was in my mouth, and I didn’t want to relinquish it. My tongue went back and forth against his cock, feeling his veins throb against me as I brought him in as deep as I could, until I felt my breath choke off, the flared tip pressing against the back of my throat as his hand remained on the back of my head.
I managed to coax another deep moan from that big, terrifying mobster with that before he rocked back his hips and let his thick cock slip from my mouth. That gloriously large member glistening wetly as he took it from the reach of my mouth.
“I’m glad you enjoyed that,” he said to me, so confident and sure of himself. He never needed to ask what I felt. “But I am done with waiting. I will take what I really want now,” he stated firmly, moving to my hips, his two hands taking hold of my panties and tugging them away, leaving my wet cunny bare.
He showed no signs of being concerned for a condom or protection either, he just got between my legs, lifted my arms and let his thick, granite shaft prod against my bare slit.
“I’m not on the pill,” I said, my legs spread, my hips angled to him.
I mean, I had to tell him, right? I couldn’t just let him fuck me raw without us both knowing the consequences.
But at the same time, I dreaded his reaction to those words, and my legs wrapped around him, trying to draw him in to my fertile cunny. My nipples were so hard they could cut glass, and while my one hand still lay against my clit, the other went up, grabbing my breast and tweaking the nipple.
“I could smell you like we were animals in heat,” he said, as if that too was something he knew without my ever needing to tell him. “It’s all the better. Just as a man and woman should be,” he stated before he bent over me, resting all his weight upon one fist beside me, letting me get a full view of that gloriously sculpted chest of his.
Then he thrust in. That thick, bulging shaft disappeared into my cunny, spearing into my depths and thrusting me open wide. He stretched my cunny taut about his girth and gave a low moan for his pleasure.
I didn’t hold back my scream of pleasure. I didn’t want to. He was so big against me, his masculine form making me feel so small and breakable. As he thrust in, my still stinging ass was pushed into the comforter and reminded me of his earlier sting.
It made a slight sound of wetness as he pierced me, and for a moment, I was embarrassed by just how wet he’d made me, but it d
idn’t last long.
“You might knock me up,” I gasped, and despite all I knew of him, it surprised me he’d take that chance and be so reckless with me.
Those words only seemed to goad the giant, muscular man on. And I watched as his broad, muscle-bulging frame swelled with each thrust. The sinew rippling across his whole body as he plunged deep into me, forcing my body to accommodate to a girth of cock I’d never before dreamed of having to take.
With his free hand he reached up, took hold of my face again. Somehow amid the rough fury of his thrusts, pounding me down into the bed, he managed to force me to look into his eyes with the same composure of our more relaxed time in the club. Our heavy breathing peppering the air as he seemed to peer into my soul.
“I want to,” he said, his voice a low growl of desire.
My heart was racing as I stared at him, mouth agape.
But my body betrayed my mind once more and I smiled a dark smile. It was as though, for once, I had him at my will rather than the other way around.
The words tumbled from me before I could stop them.
“You wanna cum in my pussy raw?” I cooed darkly, my eyes fluttering closed as I lifted my hips and grounds against him. But even when I was trying to reclaim some of that control and power, he took it from me by way of a harder thrust that stole my breath and made my body tremble.
“I’m going to,” he growled back to me, moving his body so that his powerful thighs supported him as he pumped into me. His two hard, strong hands groping at my flesh. He felt my breasts, kneaded their perky skin, then one hand dipped down to reach his thumb in towards my clit, nudging my own hand away. That thick digit prodding and circling my sensitive bud provoking it.
“You wanted me to breed your tight little pussy since the club,” he said to me, never failing to amaze me. “You ground out your greedy little climax like a bitch in heat. And now I’ll give you exactly what you wanted and more,” he seemed to roar the longer he went on, his body moving with such composed savagery.
His words sent me spinning, and as his hand rubbed my clit, there was no running from it. Not from him, not from my desires and needs, not from the truth.