The Mafia's Tesoro

PROLOGUE

“I'm the luckiest man alive for having you straddle me like this,” Roman whispered. A low, husky growl escaped his lips as his eyes became filled with an intense longing and yearning that could not be contained.

Viola's face flushed with embarrassment and desire as she smiled, moving her hips sensually against him. It was as if she were a young adolescent experiencing love for the first time, her cheeks glowing with intense heat.

“No,” she whispered anxiously, tracing her fingers over the map of tattoos created on his torso. "I am lucky to ride the mafia."

After that, she raised her hips in a deliberate and gradual motion, aligning his tip with her entrance. With a controlled descent, she lowered herself onto him, experiencing a sharp intake of breath as her inner muscles tightened around him.

Engaging in an up-and-down motion, she bounced on him with a fervor reminiscent of a trampoline, causing his substantial size to be enveloped by her walls. This elicited a deep and guttural sound from his enticing mouth.

With a firm grip, he tightly held onto her hip, causing her to react by forcefully digging her fingernails into the back of his neck, resulting in blood being drawn.

With a ferocious howl, he tightly gripped a handful of her black tresses, forcefully wrenching her delicate neck at a twisted angle, all the while uttering with intense anger, "Exercise caution, you w***e," he seethed through his tightly clenched teeth.

Despite the pain she was experiencing, she continued to move steadily, with tears welling up in her eyes and impairing her ability to see clearly.

With a quick movement, he reached out for the lighter resting on the bed and effortlessly ignited it. Simultaneously, he retrieved a cigar from its box, biting into the cap and exposing its end. Skillfully maneuvering the flame towards the cigar's foot, a mesmerizing glow was ignited. Leaning against the headboard, he relaxed and enjoyed a long, satisfying drag, observing as the foot of the cigar blazed with a vibrant, fiery red hue.

Viola wrinkled her nose in response to the overpowering odor of a potent cigar invading her sense of smell.

Roman witnessed the scene unfold before his eyes, causing him to release a wicked and malevolent laugh that echoed through the air.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he proceeded to blow the thick, noxious smoke directly toward her delicate visage, relishing the sense of control and power that engulfed him.

Disregarding his presence, she shut her eyes and leaned in, using her tongue to trace along his neck, gradually transitioning into gentle, moist pecks.

With a forceful grunt, he forcefully pulled her neck to one side, sinking his teeth into her flesh with a firm grip. As his sharp teeth punctured her skin, a mixture of pain and pleasure intertwined, causing her to emit a moan filled with both torment and satisfaction.

As she slowly opened her eyes, her delicate moans grew louder, expressing the intensifying pleasure she experienced as the muscles inside her tightened around him, a clear sign that she was on the brink of reaching a climax.

The man emitted a gruff sound as he expressed his refusal. “I will come first, then you.”

As he experienced the sensation of his muscles tensing up and his manhood being constricted by her, he instinctively placed his cigar between his lips and shifted his hands towards her hips, gripping them firmly. With this newfound control, he took charge of their rhythm, forcefully thrusting her onto him with increasing intensity, causing her breasts to bounce rhythmically.

As a result, her breathing became irregular, and she tilted her head back in response, sensually sliding her finger across her moistened body in a seductive manner.

She moved her hips in a rhythmic motion, engulfing his entire size into her moist opening.

"You are such a bad girl. I thought you were an angel, but you are completely different.” He smirked. "w***e," he whispered before leaning back.

In an instant, she came to a halt, her veins pulsating with an electrifying surge of energy. Without hesitation, she locked her gaze with his, and it was at that very moment that Roman experienced an unprecedented sensation, as if a chilling wave cascaded down his back.

Diverting her gaze downward and attentively inspecting her nails, she whispered, “You're right. I am a bad girl.”

Without uttering a word, he watched as she abruptly contorted her body and did a quick movement, causing a distinct cracking sound to reverberate from beneath her. It was evident that she had just snapped something.

Roman let out a scream of agony and instinctively brought his hands forward, but the intensity of the pain overwhelmed him.

With his other free hand, he tried to strike her, but she grabbed it and fastened it to the other side of the headboard.

She woke up from him, his manhood as dead as a rotting snake now. Walking over to the side of the bed, she grabbed her nightgown and put it on, covering her body.

“Well, I guess you couldn't come,” she commented as she tied the strings while walking forward.

Confusion was scribbled on his features. “Who the hell are you?” he shouted.

She plucked the cigar from his mouth and put it in hers, sucking in the air, before lowering her head and blowing the smoke in his face.

He struggled in the handcuffs and balled his fists, empty threats escaping his mouth like a sheep's cry to a wolf.

“I'm Viola,” she asserted confidently before flicking the cigar on the bed, engulfing it in flames as she exited the room.