The Mobster’s Masseuse Page 6

  As soon as she nods, I lift my hips and impale her from below, her wet little fuck hole sliding down, down—sending me through the thin barrier of her hymen—before she settles on my lap, the sound of her muffled scream already beginning to fade. Thank God. Hurting her is repellant to me. I only want her to feel pleasure, every day, for the rest of her life. Starting now.

  “Meadow, look at me.” She follows my instructions with a whimper, her thighs trembling around my hips. “You feel like heaven. Heaven. Just look at me and trust me to take care of you, okay?” I say roughly through my teeth, my arousal at the fever pitch. “Can you do that? Can you let me take care of the girl I love?”

  She nods and tests our connection with her hips, her mouth falling open. “Walker. My king,” she moans. “I can feel all of you.”

  The blinding need for release rockets through me, twisting a fist deep in my belly. “You can’t say things like that yet, Meadow. You’re going to make me come.”

  Her lower body rolls sensually, freeing half my cock before sheathing it once more. “Isn’t that what you want?”

  Through my haze of beastly lust, I study her face and see the question she posed is genuinely innocent, she’s not actively trying to kill me, but somehow her innocence bends my willpower all the more. “Stop looking at me like that or I’m going to flip you over and fuck you silly.”

  Meadow gasps and a shudder passes through her. She falls forward until her nipples graze my chest, grinding her hips down onto mine. “Oh. Ohhh. My clit is…oh I can rub it right there and it feels so good. Oh my God. The pressure of you inside me is making it feel so much better.”

  My life flashes in front of my eyes. Of course this treasure of a girl I’ve found is a dirty little fuck princess. A natural her first time around. All I can do is lie there and try not to bust as she rubs her clit on my cock and whines my name. As soon as her muscles lock up and her pussy grips me tight, I roll her over and pound my cock into her orgasm, her flesh contracting and releasing around me. Meadow’s head thrashes side to side on the bed, her thighs open, hips rolling. I’m snarling at her like a goddamn wolf. I feel like one. Like a fucking animal claiming its mate and my grunts and snaps of teeth only heighten that belief.

  “Feel your king, Meadow. Feel me.” Once again, I sense Meadow welcoming my domination and I waste no time giving us what we need. I grip her jaw tight and tilt up her face to the fading sunset light, watching her eyes glitter with excitement. “I’m getting ready to feed your little pussy its new favorite meal.” I drive my cock deep and feel the first spurt take hold, slopping out deep in her hot, clenching cunt. My groan of relief shakes the windows. “Eat it all up.” Another spurt. “There’s your seconds, gorgeous. Take it down. Let it work its magic in your tummy.”

  Until I say those words, getting Meadow pregnant isn’t a reality. But with my growled statement echoing in the air above us, it becomes my sole purpose in life. It’s what I want above all else. To get my queen pregnant. Something takes hold of me, something primal, and another wealth of semen shoots up the thick stalk of my cock, pouring into Meadow’s thighs, my rabid thrusts making it squelch and squirt all over her tight body. She can’t take the whole load, but I feel some of it finding its way home and I push my dick as far inside of her as I can, kissing away her scream.

  “Good little girl. We’re going to make that belly swell,” I growl at her lips. “Just open your thighs and take what your king gives you.”

  Meadow’s body stills beneath mine and begins to shake anew, her fingernails ripping down my back. “It’s…I-I’m coming again. Walker.”

  “Good, baby. Take it.”

  “I…” She gasps. “I love you.”

  Our mouths lock together and I feel half my soul leave my body, planting inside of hers. Irrevocably. “God, Meadow,” I rasp. “God, I love you, too.”

  I fuck her so hard through her second climax, her upper half is hanging off the bed by the time she stops moaning and clenching around me. I roll onto my side, spent, and gather her into my arms, staring up at the ceiling in all out wonder.

  I thought I knew how much I loved her. How possessive I was. How jealous. How protective. But I just handed her my soul. She’s gone from a weakness to something else altogether. She’s my very life-blood.

  Something happens to her, I’ll drop dead.

  It’s a gut-deep certainty. It’s fact.

  She snuggles into my neck and sighs sweetly, her hand in a loose fist over my racing heart. “My king,” she murmurs in her sleep.

  I’m never, ever letting her leave this house. Or my sight.

  Mine.

  Mine.

  MINE.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Meadow

  Something is different about Walker when I wake up.

  He’s prowling back and forth in front of the lit fireplace in the bedroom, the flames dancing in his eyes. My worry is put on hold temporarily to appreciate how truly sexy he is, however. Plus my bones are currently made of pudding and I don’t want to move or speak or even think too hard.

  Focus on those muscular thighs.

  They really are magnificent. Thick and corded and powerful. They flex with every step he takes, along with his jawline. Something is upsetting him and I need to find out what it is…right after I admire his butt. It’s the opposite of flat. It’s juicy, filling out his briefs just past the point of fitting. Although I’m sure what he’s got in front has a lot to do with the snugness of his underwear, too, because…whoa.

  Just whoa.

  I might have been a virgin but I know Walker’s penis is firmly—lolz—on the above average corner of the spectrum. My soreness only reinforces that fact.

  Walker pushes a hand through his dark hair, popping muscles all down his back and I clutch the pillow, fighting back a squeal.

  I told him I loved him.

  It was in the throes of passion, yes, but…oh God, I think I meant it.

  He’s high-handed, jealous, arrogant and a known criminal.

  But my heart is thudding louder than it ever has in my life. My stomach is in knots and the thought of leaving him, like I vowed to do, fills me with sadness.

  So, maybe…maybe I’ll stay. I’ll throw caution to the wind and love this complicated man despite his faults and his chosen profession.

  But I have to make it okay for myself first.

  There has to be compromise. Understanding. Trust.

  Otherwise one of us won’t be happy—and I’m guessing it’ll be me.

  “Walker?” I sit up in bed. “Is something wrong?”

  He halts in his journey across the floor to smile at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes and a nervous hum starts in my belly. “Everything is fine, gorgeous.” He rakes that hand through his hair again and swaggers toward me all loose hipped and confident, stopping at the edge of the bed and rubbing his knuckles along my cheek. “Dinner will be ready soon. You hungry?”

  I’m famished, actually. Probably should have gone with that steak instead of cheese toast earlier. I nod. “Can we talk first?”

  His expression turns shuttered in the space of a second. Cautious “About what, Meadow?”

  Is it my imagination or is there a thread of warning in his tone? It causes me to hesitate, but then I remember I’m not a girl who backs down from anything. I’m a fighter, a smartass and most importantly, I say how I feel. If I start staying quiet now to keep harmony between Walker and me, I’ll keep doing it. That’s so not happening, because I wouldn’t be staying true to myself. I wouldn’t be the girl he says he wants so desperately. Says he loves. “I want to stay here,” I say in a rush. “What I said earlier, what I said about how I feel about you—”

  “That you love me,” he says in a firm tone.

  “Yes.” I meet his eyes for a heavy moment. “I meant it. I know it’s crazy so soon, but all of this is crazy, so might as well go for broke, you know? And I meant it.”

  His expression softens momentarily before turning stony ag
ain. “I hear a ‘but’ in there, Meadow, and I don’t like it.”

  “Too bad.” I feel extra exposed in no clothes, so I slide out of the bed—on the opposite side from Walker, leaving us facing off across the bed. “I want to stay here with you, but only if you let me come and go as I please.”

  His stare is hard. “I think we’ve established you staying is non-negotiable.”

  “You can’t really mean to keep me here against my will,” I breathe, winded from his callousness.

  He raises an eyebrow at the messy bedding. “Baby, you’ve got a funny way of showing me you want to leave.”

  “What happened to you? Stop being like this,” I whisper, heat pressing to the backs of my eyes. “My attraction to you is not the issue. I just don’t want to completely abandon my life. If you loved me, you wouldn’t ask me to do that.”

  My strangled whisper seems to get to Walker. His chest starts to heave and he looks as though he wants to reach for me but doesn’t. “Every time I leave this house, I have to look over my shoulder. I won’t have my wife doing the same.” His fingers curl into fists. “Do you have any idea how crazy it makes me? The idea of something happening to you?”

  “I’m sorry me living a normal life scares you, but you can’t hold me prisoner!”

  “Says who?” Walker shouts, rounding the bed in my direction, backing me up against the wall. “Anything you want, I’ll bring it to you on a silver platter.” He cups my face in his hands. “Right here, where you’re safe.”

  Oh my God, he’s serious. He’s serious about never letting me leave. I don’t know why I thought he would see reason. There is enough stubborn conviction on his face to fill ten oceans. “Walker,” I say semi-calmly. “You don’t understand. I’ve spent my whole life trapped. My mother and I shared a trailer and I slept on the couch. I had no control over who came and went—and a lot of people came and went—”

  “Men?”

  “Yes. Her boyfriends. Not mine. And you don’t get to be jealous over anything that happened before today!”

  “Watch me,” he growls.

  A close-mouthed scream rips out of me. “My point being, I slept on a couch. I had no money. No other family. No way out until I made one for myself. I could have easily ended up living in the trailer forever, but I wanted to decide how to decorate my bathroom, what to eat for dinner—and above all else, I wanted to have my own money. Money that I worked to make.” I place my hands on his bare chest, his skin hot to the touch. “I love what I do. I worked so hard to get here. Don’t take it away from me.”

  Misery swims in his countenance. He’s affected by the story of my past, but he’s steeling himself, forcing his humanity into hiding in favor of whatever cold creature he’s become. “You’re asking me permission to continue being a masseuse?”

  “I don’t need your permission.”

  His laughter is made of coal. “Your hands will touch me and no one else, Meadow. That is final.”

  I see the warm man who held me in his arms earlier. I see him right there under the surface, but there’s a layer of madness preventing me from reaching him. “You’re killing what I feel for you, Walker,” I say brokenly. “You’re killing it.”

  He makes a wounded sound and in a flash, I’m backed against the wall. “You said you loved me. You will not take it back.”

  My chin lifts. “You might be able to control me, but not my feelings.”

  “Meadow,” he snaps, punching the wall above my head. “Why can’t you understand that I need to keep you safe? Why can’t you understand that if something happened to you, it would break me?”

  “I do. I felt it today, when you were in danger.” I run my fingers through his hair and he groans at the contact. “There has to be a compromise. We’ll land on it, but you can’t just lock me up and throw away the key.”

  “I have to.”

  “Walker.”

  He’s lost to me. I didn’t reach him in time and whatever madness took hold of him has swallowed him whole. And still, still, my body turns pliant against him when he kisses me, hard and thorough. When he wedges his thigh between my legs, my body betrays me and I rock against him, my bare sex grinding on the hard sinew. His mouth on mine prevents me from protesting—I’m not even sure if I could—when he drags me off the wall and walks me toward the bed.

  “Bend over for your king.”

  I’m not given a choice. He spins me around pins my upper half to the mattress with a hand on the back of my neck. “Walker, please,” I manage, though I’m not sure if I’m asking him to stop or go faster. I answer my own question when I lift my backside in response to his growl. “Please. Please.”

  He spanks me.

  My lungs seize, my whole body numbing with the shock of his hard slap, before a rush of unabashed delight takes over. Explosions go off along my nerve endings and the flesh between my thighs contracts with yearning. Yearning for more punishment from his hand. From his body. Because it only leads to unimaginable pleasure.

  “This is what happens when you torment the king, little girl. You get your sweet ass spanked.” My wetness aids him in filling me with his thickness—and he does it with one rough, cursing shove of rigid flesh into soft. “And then your pussy gets taken for a fucking ride. Spread your legs.”

  “Yes!” I swear I mean to shout no, but my body is in control—and it loves, craves, requires Walker and his savage thrusts. Every slam of his hips against my buttocks sends another peal of euphoria ringing through my body. He’s deep inside me, finding the sensitive spot inside me and massaging it with his shaft. My own fingers fly to my clit and play with it in desperate little circles, whimpers and pleas falling from my lips.

  I feel Walker’s breath on my shoulder and I automatically tilt my head, giving him room to attack my neck and he does so with a lustful fervor, running his tongue up my neck and groaning against my ear as he pumps, pumps, pumps. “This is for life, Meadow. This isn’t going away. You really think we could live without each other now?” His fingers replace mine on my clit, teasing a gasp out of me with his skilled middle finger. “I’m going to keep you safe and happy and roughly fucked, my tight little instant addiction. My sanity depends on it, baby. Give in.”

  Some sense of pride or self-preservation won’t let me say yes.

  I bite down on my bottom lip to prevent the word from escaping and Walker roars a curse at the ceiling.

  “Tell me you love me,” he demands.

  “I love you,” I sob.

  “Give in. Resign yourself to staying here.”

  I say nothing.

  My body is pinned to the bed and if I thought Walker was taking me hard before, nothing compares to now. With his mouth grunting into my neck, he strums my clit faster and barrels into me with deafening smacks of hips against buttocks. My orgasm slams into me with the force of a hurricane and I scream into the mattress, my body quaking out of control.

  “Mine!” Walker shouts, before falling onto me with his whole weight and flooding me with his hot, endless relief, bucking wildly like his climax might never end. “My Meadow.”

  As soon as my wave of pleasure subsides, emotion clogs my throat, tears rushing to my eyes and streaming down my cheeks only to be absorbed by the comforter. Oh Lord. What am I going to do? I’m in love with a man who can command my body like he holds a remote control, even when I know touching him will only lead to me becoming accepting of his holding me captive.

  I can’t.

  I can’t let this be normal.

  I have to get out of here, whether I love him or not.

  Whether my leaving will break him or not.

  Walker climbs off of me with a jerky movement, stopping short in my periphery when he sees me crying. “Meadow?” he croaks. “Baby, no…”

  I close my eyes to block him out, the salty moisture continuing to scald my cheeks. “I want to be alone.”

  “Did I…did I hurt you?”

  His hand is on my back when he asks me the question and I jerk a
way, pissed about so many things, but mainly the fact that he just exploited my attraction to him. God, I succumbed without even a smidgen of a fight. Some badass I turned out to be. I can’t even talk myself out of falling for my mob boss kidnapper. “You didn’t hurt me. I’m fine.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re fine. You’re crying.”

  I’m mentally exhausted and I don’t have the patience required to explain to this man that, gee, maybe I’m crying because I’m being held against my will. And that I’ll never get to do the job I love again. Or squeal over a hard-earned paycheck.

  Unless I escape.

  No. I have no choice.

  I won’t trade my freedom for love.

  Careful not to let my sudden determination to GTFO show on my face, I curl up on my side. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”

  My eyes are closed, so I don’t know if he buys it.

  “Yeah.” His usually robust voice is faint. “I’ll have Helen bring something up.”

  I swallow, sensing his struggle to leave me. I can relate. It would be so easy to stay here and let this man smother me with love and lust and live the life of a pampered wife, but I don’t want that. I like doing for myself. I like being useful. Helping people. Helping myself. He might hold my heart, but he’s not going to keep me in this pretty cage. “Okay. Thanks.”

  His footsteps move to the door, but he stops. Through my cracked eyelid, I can see he’s pulled on sweats and a T-shirt, his hand poised on the door. “Meadow…I…”

  With my heart in my throat, I wait for him to finish, but he jerks the door open and closes it behind him instead. But not before I see the huge, stoic bodyguard standing outside my door in the hallway. Keeping me inside.

  It’s the final straw.

  Goodbye, Walker.

  One last tear escapes and I let it fall. No more, though. I’ll cry about him later. Right now, I have to focus on getting out of here. And I can’t go home, either. He’ll just track me down and bring me back. I have to leave Boston.