Six Months Contract With The Mafia God

POV: DIMITRI

Dimitri sat in his office, his door locked, his hand wrapped around his cock as he watched Eve fall apart.

He’d been rock hard since the moment she’d positioned that camera. Since the moment he’d seen her face....flushed with arousal and humiliation and desperate need....as she’d touched herself in a room full of people.

The power of it was intoxicating. Knowing she was his to command. His to control. His to pleasure and deny and break and rebuild.

He watched her fingers move faster, watched her head fall back against her chair, watched her mouth open in a silent scream as the orgasm hit her.

Her whole body shook with it. Convulsed. Her pussy clenched around her fingers, her thighs trembling, her free hand gripping the edge of her desk so hard her knuckles went white.

Beautiful.

Absolutely, devastatingly beautiful.

He stroked himself faster, chasing his own release, watching her pleasure play out on his screen.

”That’s it, piccola,” he groaned. ”Take it. Take all of it. Show me what I do to you.”

Her orgasm seemed to go on forever...waves and waves of pleasure that left her gasping and shaking and completely wrecked.

When it finally subsided, she slumped in her chair, her chest heaving, her fingers still inside her, her eyes glazed.

”Look at the camera,” he commanded.

She did, and the expression on her face....satisfaction and shame and need and something that looked dangerously like surrender....sent him over the edge.

He came with a groan, spilling over his fist, his eyes never leaving her face on the screen.

When he could breathe again, he said, ”Clean yourself up. Fix your clothes. And sit through the rest of your workday knowing that you just fingered yourself to orgasm in front of your entire executive team and not one of them noticed.”

”You’re insane,” she whispered, but there was no heat in it. Just exhaustion and satisfaction.

”I’m possessive. There’s a difference.” He tucked himself back into his pants, grabbed a tissue. ”And I’m training you, cara. Teaching your body to respond to me even in the most inappropriate situations. Soon, you won’t be able to function without my permission.”

”I hate you.”

”You keep saying that. I don’t think it means what you think it means.” He smiled. ”Marco will bring you home at six. Don’t be late. I have plans for you tonight.”

”What kind of plans?”

”The kind that involve you naked, bound to my bed, and begging me to let you come again. Multiple times. Until you forget your own name.”

He heard her breath catch.

”Six o’clock, Eve. Don’t make me come get you.”

He hung up, leaned back in his chair, and allowed himself a moment of pure, savage satisfaction.

She was breaking. Slowly but surely. Learning to crave his control. Learning to need him.

Soon, the idea of the contract ending would be unthinkable.

Soon, she’d beg him to extend it.

Soon, she’d be his in every way that mattered.

And no one....not Mike, not her past, not the enemies circling in the shadows....would ever take her from him.

****

POV: EVE

Eve sat at her desk for a long time after Dimitri hung up, trying to remember how to be human.

Her body still tingled with aftershocks. Her fingers were sticky. Her panties were soaked. Her mind was... empty. Blissed out. Completely short-circuited by the orgasm that had just torn through her.

A knock on her door made her jump.

”Ms. Thorne? I have your coffee.”

”Just a minute!” Her voice came out too high, too breathless.

She grabbed tissues from her drawer, cleaned her fingers, adjusted her panties, smoothed down her skirt, tried to make herself look presentable.

When she opened the door, Melissa handed her the coffee with a concerned look.

”Are you sure you’re okay? You were shaking during that meeting.”

”Low blood sugar,” Eve lied. ”I’m fine now. Thank you for the coffee.”

She closed the door again, collapsed into her chair, and pressed her face into her hands.

What was happening to her?

A week ago, she’d been Eve Thorne. Perfect wife. Successful businesswoman. In control of her life.

Now she was... what? Dimitri’s property. His toy. His obsession. A woman who’d just fingered herself to orgasm during a business meeting because he’d commanded it.

And the worst part....the absolutely terrifying part....was that she’d loved every second of it.

The shame. The arousal. The fear of being caught. The overwhelming pleasure when he’d finally given her permission to come.

She was addicted.

To him. To his control. To the way he made her feel things she’d never felt before.

And they were only six days into a six-month contract.

God help her when those six months were over.

Because she had a horrible, devastating feeling that Dimitri was right:

She wouldn’t want to leave.

She’d beg him to keep her.

And he’d smile that wicked smile and say, ”I know, cara mia. I’ve always known.”

***

The rest of the workday passed in a haze.

Eve went through the motions...reviewed contracts, approved campaign pitches, answered emails...but her mind was somewhere else entirely.

Somewhere dark and desperate and focused entirely on the man who’d made her come during a business meeting and then hung up like it was nothing.

Like she was nothing. Like she was just his toy to play with whenever he wanted. And God help her, she wanted him to play with her again.

By the time six o’clock rolled around, she was a mess. Her body hummed with anticipation and dread in equal measure.

Her panties were still damp...had been damp all day, a constant reminder of what he’d done to her, what he could do to her with just his voice.

Marco appeared at her office door at exactly 6:00 PM, silent and imposing in his black suit. ”Ready, ma’am?” She wanted to say no. Wanted to run.

Wanted to hide in her office until this insane need subsided.

But she grabbed her purse, smoothed down her skirt, and followed him to the elevator.

The ride to Dimitri’s penthouse felt like descending into hell. Or ascending to heaven.

She couldn’t tell the difference anymore.