Sniping Her Mafia King

Arwen shifted on the bed at his words. "You want to have s*x." "Only if you agree."

"God yes," she was ripping her t-shirt over her head in a quick movement which made him laugh aloud. "For me, the best way to deal with stress is an o****m. You give me multiples. Let's go. We only have two hours?" "One hour and fifty-eight minutes now," he smirked as she was running to her closet.

"Come pick out what you want to use."

He rolled off the bed and called her name, "Arwen, get back on the bed."

She paused, "no toys?"

He ripped his leather belt off his pants, "This is all I need."

She blinked at the ferocity on his face. He had gone from zero to a hundred in a blink. The instant she had said she was in he was in full beast mode. Her shorts were dampening by the second. He rifled through her nightstand. "On the bed." He waved at her again and she crawled onto the bed.

She had a thought and looked him up and down, "are you sure you're up to this? Won't it hurt? You got punched in the junk today and I know you said she pulled the punch, but it still had to hurt." "It did hurt."

"Jesse said you barely flinched." She leaned as if trying to see his balls through his dark trousers. "She was impressed."

"Of course, I flinched." He grimaced at her, "she had f*****g knuckle dusters on, and she punched me square on."

Arwen blinked at him. The girls had left that part out, "they said you barely reacted."

||

"I didn't scream like a little b***h if that's what you're asking," he made a face. "I was in a room with five women, three of whom I fed gelato and Italian soda in the early hours of this morning. I knew my life wasn't in danger. It was only a bit of fun." He gave her a mocking smile, "my love, I paddled your a*s the other night and had to make you count because you were silent. You have superb control. It took me hours to break it. Like you, I've been trained to withstand a bit of pain."

She twisted her hair around her fingers, "part of our Bellona training includes torture survival."

He paused the digging he was doing in the drawer and looked at her, "seriously?"

"Six weeks of it with a final at the very end of the overall training program. They take you from your home and for seventy-two hours they interrogate you to reveal our secrets." She grinned, "I hold the record for the longest silence." "How long did you last?"

"Seventy-six hours, they went long because I was such a spiteful b***h. They called it, I didn't." she was proud.

"So, you just didn't speak?"

"Not a word, not a sound." She smirked. "I took a hell of a beating too. When Cat did hers, she was constantly shooting her mouth off. I was surprised they didn't shoot her in the head just for being antagonistic. If she ever got captured and tortured, her captors would just kill her. She wouldn't spill a secret but f**k she can get your nerves fast when she's trying to be spiteful."

He laughed at her words

"It's why I'm so confused over you," Arwen spoke without thinking and when he looked at her in surprise she shrugged, "you're my truth serum. I've spilled more to you in two weeks than I did to Psych-One in a year, and she knew most of my secrets going into my sessions with her."

"It's because you know intuitively, I will never judge you and your secrets are safe." He reached a long finger out and traced her cheek. "Arwen, I believe we were meant to find each other." He knelt into the center of the bed with her and dropped a wide cotton headband she used to hold her hair off her face when applying make-up with the belt beside her.

His words made her smile softly, "you do?"

"Yes." He wrapped his arms around her, "now, we have wasted another twelve minutes of my f*****g time by talking."

She laughed at his words. "Well, what you like to start with Adrianu, sir?" She looked to the leather belt, "a whipping?"

"No," he laughed, "I'm going to tie you up and blindfold you."

"Blindfold?" she looked to the headband as the lightbulb went off. "Ah, this is what this is for."

"Yes." He paused, "when we have more time, hopefully in the near future, I'm going to put you on a table, tied down, cover you in welts, drizzle them in hot honey and suck it off."

"Jesus," she let a shaky breath escape her as he motioned for her to get undressed.

He heard her word and laughed with a sad purse of his lips, "the complete opposite, I'm afraid."

"I'm not afraid," Arwen said and when his surprised eyes flicked to hers, she felt the emotion in them as surely as if it were a tactile object. "I'm not afraid of you, Adrianu. Not even a tiny bit. You won't hurt me. I know it in my soul." She watched as his chest rose and fell with uneven breathing and considered perhaps, she'd said too much. Then his fingers dug into her hair and pulled her forward, kissing her mouth hungrily as if he'd suddenly come undone at her words.

They collapsed onto the bed, his long legs twined in hers, the roughness of his pants rubbing against her bare legs, his mouth never leaving hers. He was a starving man, and she was his last meal and she wound her fingers into hair while her other hand gripped his shirt at his waistband in a tight fist. s*x for her rarely included her partner allowing her to touch him and if she were honest, she rarely wanted anything but the release of an o****m, but her hands wanted to touch him, to feel his rough skin on her fingertips. She desperately wanted to stroke every square inch of him and an earlier comment of her saying she wanted to lick his tattoos flitted to her head. He was letting her hands rove him freely, something he had denied her doing Wednesday night. She was yanking on his undershirt as was ripping her bra off her body.

Her fingers were fumbling for the button on his pants while he was yanking her shorts away from her body. His digits speared past her folds, making her cry out in surprise but his mouth swallowed the scream and as he plunged in and out of her, his tongue and lips continued their assault on hers.

He was stealing her breath with his kiss. Making her desperate for air and gasping as he roughly penetrated her with his fingers. He was half on her, half off, his body heavy and solid on her lithe frame. His lips moved from her mouth, allowing her oxygen and she gaped as he trailed his mouth down her collar over her breasts.

Pushing her breasts together with one hand while he continued working her core, he flicked his tongue over one n****e, then the other, back, and forth. Nipping and biting, sucking, and licking, her breasts were slick with his saliva and reddened with his rough treatment. His stubble scraped her skin and her back arched as she neared o****m.

She was there and then he withdrew his hands and shoved her backwards onto the bed and sat up.

"What the f**k?" she swallowed at the sudden way he'd stopped. Her o****m was slipping away.

"Condoms, I just remembered I don't have condoms. I hadn't anticipated this," he motioned to his laptop bag. "I only brought my work stuff out of habit. I don't even know why I pulled it from the car. I had expected we'd be sitting with Deidre and maybe have time for a chat before I had to go."

She raced to her closet and came running back out throwing the box she'd picked up the day prior, "I had high hopes. Stopped on my way home yesterday before picking Deidre up at school."

He grinned broadly at her, "this," he shook the box, "is why we make the best couple."

He reached for the belt and snapped it loudly, "you almost came on my fingers. Tonight, you come only my c**k."

"Okay,"

"Okay, what?"

"Okay, Adrianu," she lay back down on the bed and at his encouragement gripped the headboard. He looped the leather belt through the barnboards of the furniture and kept her hands tied over her head. He lifted her head and pushed her headband over her eyes. She closed her eyes behind the thin material. If he didn't want her to see, she didn't want to see. She felt him get off the bed, "where are you going?"

"Just had another thought."

She heard him digging through her bathroom linen closet and wondered what he was looking for. "Aside from condoms, what else do we need?"

She heard the click of a lighter and her head c****d to one side, "are you going to burn me?"

"No," he spoke brusquely and then paused, "well not with the lighter. I remembered the other morning when I was cleaning up before I left, I saw a candle in the linen closet."

"It's for when I take baths."

"Not tonight it's not."

Arwen couldn't see him but she the rest of her senses were afire. She heard the crackling of the wick of the candle and the scent of vanilla floated around her. The tearing of the cardboard box being opened, and the foil being torn gave her pause. "I thought you said my mouth."

"Change of plans," he said abruptly. "The bed under you is soaked. I want to feel it. You're so close. I want to feel you wrapped around me." He hoisted her legs and sunk into her in a quick movement. "f**k, Arwen. You're so tight and so wet." He began thrusting slowly and methodically, his thumb making small circles on her clit. It took seconds for him to get her back to where she was just before he'd withdrawn his fingers earlier.

"Not yet," he warned her. "Hold off, Arwen. Do not let yourself go until I say."

Arwen felt his words buzz along her skin. Her body hung on the precipice floating in a purgatory where she desperately flitted too close and then dropping away from her pinnacle as he stroked himself within her walls. She clenched her muscles trying to maintain control, but it was as if Addy were testing her, pushing her to see whether he could make her disobey his command, even though she tried not to. Hot dirty words filled her ears as he scolded her when she drew close, and he felt her body tighten and his threat to pull out and finish on his own while she watched made her reign her body back in.

Over and over, he pushed her to the brink only to pull her back down with guttural words and hissed commands. Somewhere between not being able to see, the scent of the candle and the heat of his body, her senses were in overdrive, and she was acutely aware of how his hands stroked, squeezed, slapped, and molded her skin with torturous skill.

More than once he'd pinched her n*****s and slapped her a*s. She was certain her breasts were red from hickeys from where he'd bent over her and the handprints from his rough hands. She was in her glory. Everything she liked, he was doing and yet none of it was extreme. She had done so much more and as tame as this episode was in comparison to others, nothing else compared.

She could smell him mixed with the artificial vanilla scent of her candle, musky and heady. He was working up a sweat and the room smelled of hot steamy s*x. She knew her wrists were chafing from the leather belt and the way he was pummeling her body. He was relentless. Pumping and pulling with practiced precision, thrumming her body along. When yet again, he brought her close he chuckled when she flexed her fists in frustration trying to coax herself back down.

"Mia cara, are you ready?"

She was laying in a puddle of her own juices and could feel them sluicing down her thighs and past her a*s. She was soaked. "I've been ready an hour now," she sobbed as he leaned over her to kiss her mouth. She decided she likely looked like a baby bird with her mouth open as he pulled away from their kiss. She wanted more of his tongue. She'd never thought she'd be one to want kisses, yet she was ready to beg for them.

"It's going to hurt," he promised her.

"What is going to hurt?"

"Consent, Arwen, I need consent. I have a good amount of candlewax melted now."

She was writhing on the bed, "Adrianu, please, I just need -" her words trailed off as he kept pumping his body into hers, not stopping but not permitting her release yet.

"Amore," he spoke again. "Have you had hot wax drizzled over you before?"

"No," she shook her head. "I have not."

"Consent. If you don't want it, say no now. Otherwise, I'm trailing this over you while you c*m. Make a choice."

She nodded.

"Words, my love. I need to hear the words. Nodding means nothing. There's nothing gagging you."

Arwen found herself wondering how he could carry on a conversation and f**k her mercilessly at the same time. He hadn't missed a stroke, his firm grip on her hip as he plundered her depths and yet he was speaking with an even tone, not a hair out of breath and though she knew he was as slick as she was with sweat, she'd bet her millions his dark eyes were calm and collected as he surveyed her from his position over her. "Arwen," he tapped her face as he caught her daydreaming. "If you want to float on the edge all night, I'm willing but I believe we both need a release. I can make yours spectacular with some heat. I just need you to approve."

"Yes!" she screamed at him as his hard length coaxed her closer to the edge. His hand moved from her hip to her clit and pressed down firm on her button just as he speared her upwards.

"I want to hear the scream, Arwen," he said harshly. "Now. Come."

She erupted and as soon as her body hit the crescendo of her nerve ending's snapping and popping, the hot burning sensation of the wax being tilted over her torso made her scream. Pain and pleasure merged in a strange fiery sensation, and she reveled in it. Her head thrashed as she came unglued. Her body jerking from the bed. Her arms yanked and tugged on the leather strap where she was tethered, and her upper body nearly convulsed with feeling. She knew she had squirted, likely all over him and not for the first time, but this was far more than anything she'd ever experienced before. The thick feeling of the wax cooling on her skin as she sunk back into the bed.

"Arwen, I'm there," he was speaking hotly, and his guttural yell echoed in her ears as he stiffened inside her. She squeezed her legs around his waist, clenching him tightly inside her.

She was sobbing and she couldn't stop as he fell atop her. He nuzzled her neck, kissing her jaw and her cheek and lips. He tore the headband off her eyes and reached to undo the belt. Her arms flung around his neck as he kissed her gently, sweetly. "Why are you crying?" he was laughing at her as he rolled to his back, still buried deep inside her.

"I don't know," she curled into his chest, laying atop him still sniffling. "Everything just feels so good."

He kissed her mouth again softly and then her eyelids, "you liked the wax. It made you unravel."

"I loved the wax," she admitted.

"Let me get rid of the condom and clean you up."

He gently pulled away from her and left her laying on her side in the bed. He pressed a tender kiss to her cheek and then moved to the bathroom. She watched his hard firm a*s as he strode purposefully away, and she noted for the first time the long thick white scar running from under his tattoos along his backside. Clearly someone had whipped him with a horsewhip or cat o nine tails until his skin broke in terrible brutality. In her heart she knew who gave him the scar and she pushed off the bed to follow him into the bathroom. Whether from the intense o****m or a weird mysterious emotional charge, she couldn't stop herself. As if drawn by a weird magnetic pull, she found herself standing immediately behind him at the bathroom sink.

He looked over his shoulder in surprise when she came up behind him. "Mia cara, you should be resting. Your legs are probably like jelly."

Wordlessly, she trailed her fingers along his marred back and found the origin of the scar to the lower end of his buttock. He went stiff at her touch, but he didn't stop her as she pressed a string of warm, gentle kisses to the line. What she was doing was intimate and far beyond anything either of them had ever done but she couldn't help herself and he seemed equally incapable of stopping her. Tears streamed her cheeks as she had an insatiable need to mend this already well-healed wound. When she reached the bottom, on her knees behind him, tears flowing freely as she studied intently the wide mark. She pressed one last kiss at the very base of the white marring along his golden skin and closed her eyes tightly.

"I'm so glad I shot that motherfucker," she whispered as she stroked his skin. She heard his muffled gasp at her words, but she paid the muffled curse he uttered no mind, the anger in her at the man who had brutalized a child taking control as she let the sob escape her chest.

He turned then and lifted her off the floor and into his arms, burying his face in her neck. She wrapped her legs around his waist and for several minutes, they stood silently in the bathroom like this. After a short while, when her sobs had petered away, he carried her back to the bed and lay her flat on her back. Wordlessly he gently peeled the wax from her skin, kissing the blemished flesh underneath. It felt to Arwen similar to a light sunburn and nothing more sinister. She sighed as he used a lotion from her nightstand to cover her torso gently.

He pulled her blankets back and slid her into the bed, tucking her in gently. He stroked her hair and studied her face intently.

She had admitted to him she'd killed his father. While she knew he knew, she had not owned the hit until now and it hung between them. He had joked he had been more concerned with the third bullet, but the reality was, she had been the sniper who had shot his father. Regardless of whether he said she had saved him the bullet or not, she had admitted it. Outright admitted it. There was no innuendo, no reading between the lines. He knew. He also knew she was glad she did it and had no remorse for her actions. "Addy," she whispered as the reality of her actions and what she'd just done, touching his scars, literally kissing his a*s, and then admitting to murdering his father, sank deep into her. "I -"

"Don't," he shook his head, emotion clouding his eyes. "Do not ruin our perfect night with words." He kissed her lips. "I want you to sleep. I will set the security alarm when I leave but I am not leaving until I know you sleep." He sat on the edge of the bed and softly stroked her cheek. He sat unsmiling staring down at her as she felt her eyelids pull down at his soothing tracing of her skin.

Arwen closed her eyes against the rush of feelings in her chest and willed herself to sleep. Part of her training included sessions on how to force sleep during the most difficult situations and right now, she needed the dark pull of slumber to claim her.

As she was drifting off, she heard him blow out the candle beside her bed before pressing a kiss to her lips. The rustling of him dressing, packing up his laptop and speaking softly into his phone mixed with the onset of dreams. Dreams of little boys being whipped, and old men being punished plagued her ability to rest, but her nightmares were haunted with the intermingling of words she clearly had dreamed and would never hear.

"I love you, mia cara. Sweet dreams."