Sold to the mafia

One look, and panties drop. One night, and they’re ready to marry me.

Prologue

Madeline

I turn on my side and face my window, waiting for him to come into view. I feel so naughty. So needy. This is turning into a bad habit.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

I bite my lip as he moves his curtains so he can see me.

Our eyes meet, and the hunger I see in his makes every doubt disappear. I want him, and he wants me. There’s nothing wrong about that.

His lips turn up into a sexy smirk as his eyes roam my body. He takes his shirt off, his corded muscles rippling with the movement. He’s the epitome of power and sex. His jeans are slung low, and the urge to lick the deep “V” at his hips makes my legs scissor. My hand dips down to my pussy and I love that he sees. I love that he watches me.

“Covers off,” he mouths, and I obey. I’m wearing a tank top and a skimpy lace thong. He tilts his head and tsks. A small laugh escapes my lips as a blush creeps into my cheeks. I knew he’d want them off. But tonight I want him to take them off of me.

A few weeks ago I would’ve given him the finger and yanked my curtains closed. But not tonight, not now that I’ve become addicted to the inked-up bad boy next door.

“Come over.” I whisper my plea, and his eyes heat with desire.

“Get wet for me, peaches.” I smile shyly at his command and slowly push my fingers against my clit, massaging small circles over my throbbing nub. My head falls back against my pillow, and a faint moan escapes from my parted mouth. I turn my head to the side and with my eyes half-lidded, I watch him watching me.

“More,” he says in a deep, rough voice that makes arousal pool in my core. I make my movements faster and hold his heated gaze. His breath comes in shallow pants, and his hand pushes against the bulge in his jeans. I know he wants me. I want him, too.

“Please,” the word tumbles from my mouth as I feel my back bow and a hot tingle take over my body. My eyes close as I almost fall and crash with an intense orgasm, but it escapes me. I’m on edge. I need him.

I open my eyes, and he’s gone. I bite down on my lip and slow my movements. He’ll be here soon. He’ll fill me, stretching my walls with his massive cock and thrusting his powerful hips until I’m writhing beneath him and screaming his name.

When did I turn into a slave to his lust? I don’t beg. I’m not that kind of girl, but he broke my walls down, and I’ve learned to love it.

He’s bad for me. I know he is, but I still crave him. And now that I’ve given in, I’m all his. Until he’s done with me, anyway. I know it’s coming.

This arrangement isn’t going to last, but I push the thoughts away and force myself to live in the moment.

For now, I belong to the inked-up bad boy next door.