Savage Lover: A Dark Mafia Romance (Brutal Birthright Book 3)

Being gagged and tied to a chair, suppressing the memories of being restrained and manhandled by my father’s men is easy compared to having to deal with the emotions of hearing his grating voice again.

A voice from my childhood telling me I was a whiny spoiled brat, a stupid little bitch, a silly, weak girl who could never fill his shoes. He never failed to remind me that he wanted a son instead of a daughter or stopped blaming my mother for not being able to give him any children other than me. He’s probably the one infertile if he couldn’t impregnate any of his whores either. The asshole thinks he’s a king, when in reality he’s nothing but a ruthless gangster who grabs and holds on to whatever power he has by sheer terror.

The only thing I hate more than hearing him speak, seeing the brief image of him on the phone, is the fact that he now knows Cole exists. I’ve spent my son’s entire life trying to keep him away from that monster. The only reason I agreed to let Dante use Cole as a distraction was because I know that my father will be dead soon. I’ll find a way to kill him before he ever gets a chance to see Cole.

Dante walks up to me and grasps my chin between his finger and thumb to lift my face to his, pulling me out of my dark thoughts. “Do you want to go back upstairs?”

I shake my head no. I want a distraction, and I think he could use one himself after having to remain calm while talking to the man who killed the mothers of his daughters.

No, neither of us want to think about any of that right now. Instead, I would rather think about all the dirty things Dante might do to me while I’m tied up and his men are watching. That will make me forget everything else. Everything except for Dante’s name. He’ll be the master of my body and mind, the one who gives me pleasure or takes it away. I’ll be completely at his mercy, and I can’t wait.

Sure, I could squeeze my wrists free from the tie behind the chair if I wanted, but I don’t. I trust Dante to give us both what we need right now.

“Very well,” he says when he leans down to press a kiss to my cheek since my mouth is full. “There’s nothing to do now but wait, right? May as well enjoy ourselves.”

I can’t help but wince when Dante kneels before me on the dirty, bloodstained floor in his flawless suit.

As if reading my thoughts, he grins as his palms squeeze my knees then slide up my thighs, pushing the hem of my dress as he goes. “A few grand is worth the price of admission to eat this gourmet spread, don’t you think?”

The time for thinking is over when both of his thumbs graze either side of my slit because I’m not wearing any panties. My dress is bunched up around my waist when Dante leans forward to swipe his tongue just once over my flesh then lifting his head, teasing me, teasing the men in the room who may not be able to see my pussy, but know damn well what he did to it.

Since I can’t speak, I part my knees wider in invitation, as far as they can go with my ankles tied to the front chair legs.

“I know what you want, butterfly, but we have to give the men a chance to prepare themselves. Should they be allowed to jerk off while I eat your pussy, or should we make them wait until later for relief?”

I shrug, leaving that decision up to him.

His lips trail over my inner thigh, so close but too far away from where I want them. “How about letting them tug on their dicks if they want, but they can’t come until I do?” he suggests.

I nod, already fairly certain how Dante plans to come. His eyes darkened when Titus was gagging me. And I know how much he loves to gag me with his cock, how long he can last. He wants to torture these poor men, but I don’t think they’ll mind. I sneak a peek at the guards, at Titus. All four of them are standing around frozen in place with hungry eyes on me and Dante, as if they’re afraid to blink and miss something.

“Do you like seeing how much other men want you?” Dante asks as his thumbs spread me open for another stroke of his wide tongue.

“Mmm,” I moan in answer to his question and in appreciation when he slowly licks me from bottom to top again like he’s lapping up an ice cream cone.

“Let me taste how much you like it,” he says before aiming the stiff, pointed tip of his tongue to my clit to attack it.

I moan again around the cord, my neck going limp like the rest of my body as I melt into the chair. My hips try to lift and tilt toward his tongue to get more contact, but Dante already knows exactly what I need.

One of his thick fingers penetrates me, making me cry out in surprise.

“She’s drenched,” he informs the other men. “Vanessa loves being watched, don’t you, butterfly?” I would maybe even be embarrassed if his tongue hadn’t resumed its ministrations.

My head falls backward and my eyes close on a whimper of need. Dante groans against my flesh like he’s enjoying himself. When he adds a second finger, my thighs flutter because I’m so, so close. With my hands behind my back and ankles tied to the chair, there’s nothing I can do to chase the orgasm but squirm. I can’t even beg Dante to make me come. All I can do is wait, not so patiently, while he brings me to the edge over and over again until finally my inner walls bear down on his fingers, and I explode.

My orgasm slams into me so hard I can’t see or hear anything for several moments. My back arches, legs shake, clenching on either side of Dante’s head. This orgasm seems to last longer than any before. It feels like I’m falling, I think the chair even tips backward, but Dante doesn’t let me fall over.

When the last of the wonderful tremors fade, I blink my eyes open and find his dark head still between my legs, nose pressed to my damp flesh as he continues to lap up my arousal. I shiver, my senses overwhelmed, which causes him to stop and look up at me.

“My turn? Or should I make you come again?” he asks while swiping the sleeve of his expensive suit over his mouth to dry it.

I shake my head, because I can’t believe he wiped my juices on his suit, and also because I don’t think I could survive another orgasm. My limbs are still weak, unable to move even if they weren’t tied up.

“Fine. I’ll fuck your mouth and finish eating you later,” he says as he stands up. Straddling me in the chair with one leg on either side, Dante undoes his pants to pull out his long, hard cock right in front of my face.

Holding himself in one hand, he grabs the back of my head in the other to remove the cords from my mouth. As soon as they fall away, he presses my head forward.

I tease him, licking his crown instead of opening wide. Impatient, Dante says, “Open your pretty mouth and gag for me at least once, butterfly.”

I part my lips to let him slide over my tongue, to the back of my throat, where I do just what he wants.

Dante groans above me, and so does someone else in the room with us.

God, that’s hot. I know Dante would never let anyone else touch me, but I love that he doesn’t mind letting other men see him pleasure me or watch him fuck my mouth like he owns it.

He pulls my hair as he begins moving in and out, usually slow shallow strokes until he can’t help himself and shoves deeper to make me choke. My eyes water until tears slide down my cheeks. While my throat may protest his length, I don’t mind. In fact, I moan around his shaft in approval.

“Fuck,” Dante grits out, feeling the vibration. I taste his salty flavor before he pulls his dick all the way out. “Not yet. They don’t get to come yet.”

I glance around and find the men all breathing heavy as their hands pump their cocks either inside their pants or out. Even Titus’s pants are unbuttoned and unzipped, his dark pubic hair leading the way to where he’s fisting himself.

“Show her your cocks, gentlemen. Let her see how hard she made them while her mouth is full of my balls.”

There’s another groan as Dante presses my head lower. I do what he asked, giving his sac a few teasing flicks of my tongue. When my tongue rolls over one of his balls, I close my lips around it and apply suction.

“Both. Now,” Dante demands while stroking his shaft. I open wide again taking as much of his sac as I can, sucking on them until he swears and pulls back.

He slaps his dick on the underside of my chin. “Where should I come, butterfly? Down your throat?” He jerks the top of my dress down to reveal my bra. “On your beautiful tits?”

“On my tongue,” I suggest, which is rewarded with several swears around the room. I want to taste Dante, but at the same time, I also want the other men to see him finish, filling my mouth with his seed, branding me.

“God, yes,” Dante agrees as his hand pumps his shaft faster. It doesn’t take long until he growls, “Fuck, here it comes.”

I open my mouth wide and even stick out my tongue. “So fucking perfect,” Dante says followed by a long, drawn-out groan of my name as the first rope of cum lands on my tongue, followed by three other pulses. I swallow his release down as he growls and swears, then open again for him to wipe his head on my tongue, licking up the last drops. Now that they finally have permission to finish, the grunts and swears of the other men echo around the basement while Dante puts himself back in his pants. I watch the guards stroke themselves faster while they watch me with hungry eyes full of desperation for the release they’re chasing.

“They all wish they were coming in your hot little mouth or cunt instead of coming in their own dry fists,” Dante remarks, making me feel like a goddess being worshipped.

While observing the guards take turns coming, I ask the mafia king, “Can we do this again sometime? Exactly this?”

Grabbing the side of my face to make me look up at him and him alone, Dante says, “I’m the only one who ever gets to touch you.”

“Agreed,” I reply with a very satisfied smile. “Take me upstairs?”

Dante doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he pinches his bottom lip, obviously thinking dirty thoughts. Bending down, he picks up the bungee cord. “With or without the chair and rope?”

“With the chair and rope,” I easily announce. “But only if you can figure out a way to fuck me in it? I’m so very, very wet. You’ll slide right in…”

Groaning, he says, “You’re going to be the death of me, butterfly.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“Then challenge accepted.” While still staring at me, about to pull his lip off, he tells the guards, “Put your dicks away and carry Vanessa upstairs to my bedroom in the chair. I’ve got more work to do.”