THE MAFIA'S FAVORITE MAID

CHAPTER 6

My hands would not stop shaking.

I stood outside the study door for several long seconds, the silver tray balanced carefully in my grip. The small glass of amber liquid he had requested sat in the center, catching the low light from the hallway. I took one slow breath, then another, and knocked once.

“Enter.”

His voice was calm, almost bored.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The study smelled of old books, leather, and the faint trace of his cologne. He sat behind the large dark desk, jacket removed, sleeves rolled to his forearms, a single lamp casting warm light across the papers in front of him. He did not look up right away.

I walked forward on unsteady legs, set the tray down gently on the desk, and spoke in a voice that sounded smaller than I wanted.

“Your nightcap, sir.”

I turned immediately, ready to leave as quickly as possible.

His hand closed around my wrist before I could take a second step.

The pull was firm and sudden. In one smooth motion he drew me sideways and down until I landed hard across his lap again. One strong arm locked around my waist, holding me tightly against him so I could not rise. My heart slammed so violently I felt dizzy.

“Are you ignoring me, little girl?” he asked, voice low and dark near my ear. “Walking past me for two days as if nothing happened. As if I did not already have the feel of you on my hands.”

I froze completely.

“N-no, sir,” I whispered, the words tumbling out in a rush. “How dare I… I would never ignore you. I was only… I was only doing my work. I’m sorry—”

He made a soft sound that was almost a laugh, but there was no humor in it. His free hand settled on my knee and began to slide upward, slow and deliberate, pushing the fabric of my skirt higher. I felt the heat of his palm against my bare thigh. Higher still. Until the tips of his fingers brushed the soft edge of my panties.

I tensed so hard my whole body went rigid.

I had never been this close to a man. Even with Tyler, whenever his hands had wandered too far I had always stopped him, always asked him to wait. I had never let anyone touch me like this. Yet something in Dante Moretti’s touch was different—warm, heavy, impossible to ignore. Heat bloomed low in my stomach. My n*****s tightened suddenly inside my bra, aching against the thin fabric.

I squeezed my legs together tightly.

“Please…” My voice cracked. “Please, sir, don’t do it.”

He did not stop.

Instead his hand moved fully under my skirt, cupped the curve of my bottom over the thin cotton of my panties, and gave a slow, firm squeeze. The pressure sent a sharp, unwanted pulse of pleasure straight through me. I felt myself grow wet almost instantly, the dampness spreading against the fabric as he squeezed again, harder this time, kneading the soft flesh while his other arm kept me locked firmly on his lap.

I could not move.

I could only sit there, trembling, breathing too fast, while the most dangerous man I had ever met held me exactly where he wanted me and continued to explore what I had never given anyone before.