My Ruthless Mafia Husband Won’t Let Me Go

I had always been reserved by nature, yet I had married the most dangerous mafia don alive. In the two years since our wedding, I had never once truly satisfied him. After turning down his advances for the third time that week, I accidentally found the divorce papers on his desk. He had already signed them. After thinking it over again and again, I got up and knocked on the bathroom door. The shower shut off at once. Dante Moretti's cold voice came from inside. "What is it?" I asked nervously, "I'm done with my work now. Can I... shower with you?" "You're done with your work." He repeated the words slowly. "So now I... get your pity?" My heart jolted. I knew he was mocking me. For the past two years, I had always used my experiments as an excuse to reject him. Even if he told me to leave now, I would understand. "I want you now," I said softly. "Is that okay?" The door opened without warning. Dante grabbed me and pulled me inside. Steam swallowed me in an instant. He stood bare-chested in the mist, his shoulders and back drawn taut as a bowstring. Water rolled down the hard planes of his body, slid over the old, vicious scars across his skin, and disappeared beneath the towel wrapped low around his waist. Dante let out a low, mocking laugh. His arm locked around my waist, and his burning palm moved slowly upward along my side. By the time I came back to my senses, he had already backed me beneath the shower. Warm water poured down over me, soaking the ends of my hair before running along my jaw and into the hollow of my throat. I had always resisted this kind of overwhelming intimacy. By instinct, I lifted my hands to cover my chest, but Dante caught both of my wrists in one hand and pinned them hard against the wall. "Hm? Trying to hide?" I was too embarrassed to look up. My legs went weak, and I nearly collapsed into his arms. That small, helpless movement seemed to please him. His hand at my waist stroked my side lightly, then slipped beneath my clothes and moved upward without restraint. When Dante realized I wasn't wearing a bra, he laughed under his breath. His large hand, hot against my skin, brushed the underside of my breast. Then, like a beast that had been caged for too long, he closed his hand around me with sudden force. "Since you came to me first, you're going to satisfy me properly tonight." He lowered his head. His lips landed on my collarbone, leaving one hot mark after another. "You owe me, Sera. You have to pay me back somehow." The towel around his waist slipped loose, and his arousal was suddenly bared before my eyes. I tried to turn away again. My shoulder had barely shifted a few inches when his burning hand clamped around my waist and pressed me back against the bathroom wall. My short skirt was pushed up to my waist. I couldn't move. "Too late, my little wife." His lips brushed my ear. His breath was scorching, but his voice dropped so low that it sounded like a sentence already handed down. "You're not leaving this room tonight."