The Mafia Boss's Pet Wife

I spent my whole life being submissive, treated as a shadow by Tomás. So, it wouldn't be strange to follow this path again. But as he approached, I felt my entire body react to each step, as if I were perfectly in sync with his presence. He wore a light black shirt that molded to his broad shoulders, and every movement against his lean body seemed designed to seduce. The slightly open collar revealed a hint of skin that only stirred my curiosity.

His eyes met mine with a firm and intense gaze, and it was as if I could feel the weight of his touch even before he reached me. His fingers slowly drew near, lightly touching the lace of my bra. He traced the contour of my shoulder, moved down my arm, and each inch he traveled made my skin shiver. As his hands descended over my body, my skin was exposed to the air, contrasting with the warmth of his touch.

He gently pressed me against the wall. The coldness of the plaster on my back was an intense contrast to the heat radiating from his body, now just inches from mine. He raised his hand to my face, holding my chin delicately, forcing me to look directly into his eyes. The intensity of that contact made me hold my breath.

"You seem a little scared..." he whispered, his fingers caressing the skin of my neck, resting on my pulse where he could feel my heart's quick rhythm. "But there's something more, isn't there?" His smile was soft, almost like another touch, and then he leaned in, capturing my lips.

At first, he was gentle, almost careful, but soon the kiss deepened. My fingers found their way to his hair, feeling its soft texture as I lightly tugged, bringing him even closer. The proximity, the heat of his body against mine, the taste of his lips - all of it melted away my hesitation. He pulled me into him, his hands firm on my waist, and it was as though I could feel every inch of his presence enveloping me.

He led me to the bed, where I sat, vulnerable under his gaze. He knelt before me, his hands gliding over my legs, and his touch was like an irresistible tease. Carefully removing my shoes, he traced the outline of my legs with his fingers as if mapping a secret path, each touch amplifying the tension between us.

As he rose back up, each touch was calculated, provocative. He kissed my collarbone, and my skin reacted with shivers as I felt his warm breath against me. His hands slid down my back, unhooking my bra with a firm, skillful motion. I held my breath as he removed the fabric, his gaze absorbing every detail as if he were looking at something precious.

"I know you don't know me completely yet, but you can call me... master," he murmured in a tone that was both provocative and mysterious.

He laid me down on the bed, his body above mine, but there was no rush. His touches explored my skin carefully, as if each second was to intensify the anticipation. His fingers were firm, mapping every curve, every detail, and heat rose inside me as he whispered softly:Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

"Now I must go."

With those words, I felt the last thread of resistance vanish. He stood up, adjusting his shirt with a relaxed calm as he watched me out of the corner of his eye. For a moment, I thought he would say something else, something that would break the dense silence filling the room. But he continued to dress, each button on his shirt done up with precision.

I waited for some reaction, a word that would reveal what he felt, but his eyes only held that enigmatic glint. Whatever he was thinking, he kept it well-hidden. He turned to the door, hesitating before holding it, his face partially hidden, only his silhouette outlined by the dim hallway light.

Then, he looked at me one last time, as if amused. However, his voice was sharp:

"Take care, Sophia. Next time, things may not be so... pleasant."

And with a final look that felt more like a warning, he left the room, leaving me completely aroused and breathless, with a silent question about what "next time" really meant.

I leaned back on the bed, reliving every moment of that encounter, and the word still lingered in my mind: *master*. It was strange and powerful, carrying a force I had never imagined accepting. A part of me hesitated, as if I were playing with fire by allowing him to take control, but at the same time, the sensation of yielding to that role ignited me in an intense way, awakening a side of me I hadn't known existed.

However, his departure, with that final enigmatic look, made it clear that this was a game with its own rules, and he would leave no room for misunderstandings. He had complete control of the situation, and my full surrender seemed to be exactly what he expected.