
Sex with the Mafia King
WARNING!! THIS STORY CONTAINS A LOT OF MATURE THEMES, ELEMENTS OF HARDCORE BDSM, PRAISE KINKS, SLUT-SHAMING KINKS, AND DEGRADATION KINKS. READ WITH CAUTION.
(BOOK ONE OF THE DELUCA KINGS SERIES)
Serena would do anything to uncover the death of her parents, including sleeping with the most dangerous man in New York, Nero DeLuca. And he knows this, so he strings her along so he can see how far she's willing to go.
***
"Get on your knees," Nero said.
"Excuse me-"
"You're my submissive, and you exist for the sole purpose of my pleasure. I don't tolerate defiance. When I say get on your knees, you get on your knees."
"Yes," I replied as I got on my knees, hating how much his commanding tone turned me on.
He put his finger under my chin and lifted it so I could look at him.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good girl. Now get on the bed and show me that beautiful cunt. I want to see what it looks like before I destroy it with my cock. Tonight, the whole of New York will know you belong to me. I'll not take anything less than you screaming my name, and by the time I'm done with you, you'll feel me between your legs for a week."
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Chapter 1
I pulled down my dress for the second time that night. I had never worn anything that short before, and leather was hotter than I thought it would be.
I was in a red leather dress that reached a few inches below my ass and showed too much cleavage. It hugged my body like a second skin and even made me a little uncomfortable.
"You don't have to do this, Serena," Lily told me.
"I have to."
"What are you going to do once you're there? You don't even know if you'll find what you're looking for. This is dangerous."
"I need to at least try."
She didn't try to talk me out of what I was planning because she knew that I wouldn't listen to her. When I made up my mind, there was no changing it. I didn't risk my life to come to New York for nothing.
Like the good friend she was, Lily helped me put on a blonde wig to match my outfit. My hair was brunette, and needed to be blonde to pull off my plan.
I also had fake contact lenses to replace my green eyes with blue ones and a fake, realistic nose to mask my features a little bit more.
After I put on the wig, I left the dressing room and walked back to where all the girls were lined up. We were in a strip club getting picked to go to a billionaire's house so he could choose the woman he wanted for the night.
Lily had some dirt on the owner of the strip club, so she was able to get him to include me in the line-up. Apparently, the billionaire had a preference for blonde women.
A tall and muscular man walked around picking women he intended to take to the mansion, and I prayed I would be among them. Otherwise, all my efforts would have been in vain.
"You," the man said as he pointed at me.
I felt a huge sense of relief because I had been chosen. It felt like a golden moment. All ten of us who had been chosen were blindfolded and put in a van.
The billionaire in question was elusive.
He was rarely ever seen in public, and he didn't like interacting with people. He had to have women delivered to his home because he couldn't come out and choose them for himself. If that wasn't dystopian, I didn't know what was.
The ride had to have taken at least thirty minutes. When we arrived, we were each pulled from the car and led into a house. Once inside, our blindfolds were removed.
The billionaire came into view. He was sitting on a couch with a drink in his hand. He had glasses over his eyes and a nerdy look to him.
He had dark hair and the palest gray eyes I had ever seen. They were...strange, and the most noticeable thing about him, apart from the chiseled jawline that highlighted his Italian roots.
Nero DeLuca. He was the youngest heir to the DeLuca Italian-American dynasty. Many knew his name, but very few ever saw him. I didn't expect him to be a nerd, but it seemed like he was.
He didn't smile or look at any of us. If anything, it seemed like he couldn't care less that we were there.
He looked like a king sitting on very expensive furniture in the middle of his spacious living room with high ceilings, golden ambiance, and impressive chandeliers.
"What's this, Dominic?" He asked the man who had brought us there.
"I brought women here for you so you can choose the one you want to spend the night with."
He flicked his hand, and someone rushed forward to rush us away. We were taken to a smaller living room to wait. It was a golden opportunity I couldn't pass up.
"Do you think he's gay?" A girl asked.
"Please, gay? I heard that he's a beast in bed. And not only that, he's rough, and he enjoys really taboo sex. No woman has ever left his house dissatisfied. He's far from gay. I want him to pick me so I can see what it feels like to lie with a man like that."
"What's with the glasses?" Another asked.
"He doesn't have good eyesight, but don't let that fool you. He knows what he's doing when he's in bed."
I ignored their bickering and used the opportunity of being away from curious eyes to sneak away. Two guards were watching us, and I knew I couldn't get past them easily.
I got up and wobbled. Some girls looked at me curiously, but most of them ignored me. I walked to the guards, and they glared as if to tell me to go back to where I was sitting.
"I don't feel so good," I said and gagged. They looked worried because they didn't want me to vomit all over the polished marble floors. They were so shiny that I could see my reflection on them.
"I'll take you to the bathroom," one guard said.
"I can go by myself. I don't want you to get in trouble." I said and gagged again for effect.
"It's down the hallway, first door on your right."
I rushed past them, and once I was out of sight, I took a detour. I pretended to be confused for the cameras all around, but I knew exactly where I was going.
I took the stairs and went to the second floor.
Once I made sure no one could see me, I tried to open the first mahogany door I saw. My uncle had the plans to DeLuca's estate, and he had told me where his office was.
The door was locked, and before I could think of how I would pick the lock, I saw that it required a fingerprint verification. What was I going to do?
"Are you lost, birichina?"
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9.2
Jacqueline Blackburn, a desperate Ivy League tutor, walked into the sleazy Veridian VIP club just to save her job.
But her billionaire client, the ruthless Christian Montgomery, mistook her for a cheap escort, blowing cigar smoke in her face and treating her like trash.
When she furiously turned to leave, a drunk former client attacked her in the hallway, tearing her white dress open and pinning her by the throat.
She fought back, stabbing the man's hand with a pen, only for Christian to emerge from the shadows and brutally crush the attacker's bleeding hand under his heel.
Instead of letting her go, Christian draped his heavy suit jacket over her exposed skin, trapped her in his dark suite, and forced her to sign a suffocating contract.
"You have exactly ninety days, or I will personally ensure you cease to exist in my city."
She thought she could just keep her head down, teach his nephew, and survive.
But she didn't understand why this terrifying underground tyrant was suddenly so fixated on her.
Why did he use his immense power to isolate her, publicly claim her at a billionaire gala, and track her every move?
When she received a chilling midnight text demanding she pack her bags and move into his sprawling estate by 8:00 AM, the terrifying reality set in.
She hadn't escaped the wolf. She had just walked directly into his cage.

8.0
"IS IT TRUE?" Grayson's voice thundered through the room.
"Yes!" Tessa said softly. "Yes it is!"
"So you've been cheating on me, haven't you?" He spat.
Her hands trembled. "No, I swear, it's not like that."
He grabbed her arm, his grip bruising her wrist as she squealed in pain.
"Then whose baby are you carrying, huh?" His voice was ice cold.
Tessa shivered, tears blurring her vision.
"I don't know."
**********
Pregnant with the powerful Roman Blackwood's child, while engaged to his unstable stepbrother - Tessa Quinn becomes the key to a ruthless inheritance war where love has no place.
As secrets unravel and danger closes in, Tessa must protect her unborn child while trapped between love, vengeance, and men who want to own her fate.

9.0
Once a pampered princess, Alaina now clutched a deactivated American Express card, staring out at Central Park. Her family’s fortune was gone, her life, over.
Her family's Hamptons estate, a four-generation legacy, was seized by Dyer Capital. The name hit her: Hardin Dyer, the poor boy she’d once scorned, had returned.
Hardin marched in, serving a divorce agreement. He'd orchestrated her family's downfall for revenge, giving her 24 hours to vacate his property. Penniless, her father faced prison, needing $50 million. Her mother forced her to beg Hardin, who sneered, offering the money for her body. Alaina ripped up the contract.
Hours later, her father had a heart attack. Desperate, she became "Lexi," a club girl enduring humiliation. In the Viper Room, Hardin's lackeys demanded she lick whiskey off his shoe for $10,000. Hardin watched. Outside, her brother Ashton's hand was threatened for a $3 million debt. Spirit shattered, Alaina returned, knelt on broken glass, offering to sign. But Hardin declared her family "dead," offering $10 million for her body, commanding her to use her mouth.
In a furious act of defiance, Alaina threw whiskey in his face, snatched the check, and fled. Yet, when he finally took her, a searing, foreign pain and blood on the sheets revealed a shocking truth: he had never touched her three years ago. Why had he let her believe such a monstrous lie?

8.9
The mangled car teetered on the cliff's edge, my leg crushed, gasoline fumes thick in the air. My husband, Holden, stood safe on the highway, directing the rescue – but not for me. He was saving her, the woman in the passenger seat, leaving me and our unborn child to the ocean below.
I woke trapped in the crushed Maybach, leg pinned. The cliff loomed; the driver's seat was empty.
Holden, safe outside, directed paramedics past me to Giana, his "most valuable asset," ordering her rescue first.
I watched him comfort Giana, oblivious, as the car slid. My baby barely viable. Holden offered a black card for silence; Giana gloated.
Ten years of devotion, a cruel lie. Rage fueled me: how could he abandon his wife and child?
I swore a venomous oath: never again an accessory. I flicked his card away, shielded my pregnancy, and promised my baby escape.

7.4
I was only fifteen when my venomous family orchestrated my doom by forcing me into an arranged marriage with mafia heir Javier Velasquez.
On our wedding night, Javier paraded strippers into our suite to show his absolute contempt, turning me into the ultimate joke of the underworld overnight.
But being a joke was a luxury compared to what came next.
Three years later, Javier needed to be a widower to marry into a heavily armed family and secure their backing for a coup.
He didn't grant me the mercy of a bullet.
Instead, he dragged me to an abandoned underground safehouse, locked me in the damp, rotting dark, and told the world I had been assassinated.
For six months, I starved in that dungeon, surviving only on the desperate hope that my family was safe.
Then, on the day of his lavish new wedding, a cruel maid kicked a plate of spoiled food onto my floor and delivered the final, fatal blow.
"Annabel is dead. Pined away and died of a broken heart two weeks ago."
My gentle mother was dead, all because she actually believed his lie about my tragic murder.
Driven by pure agony and an all-consuming hatred, I shattered crates of smuggled chemical solvents and struck a match, letting the roaring inferno turn their bloody wedding into my funeral pyre.
I thought the fire was the end.
But when I opened my eyes, the suffocating smoke vanished, replaced by the biting chill of a Long Island winter.
I was standing in the snow, back on the exact day my descent into hell began.
This time, the terrified girl was dead, and I would use their own ruthless rules to tear their empire apart.

8.1
I died on an apocalyptic battlefield, only to wake up pinned down by a lead-lined blanket of my own fat.
A violent download of memories hit me. I had transmigrated into the body of an exiled, sadistic noblewoman who was three million coins in debt.
The original owner was an absolute monster. She had purchased beastman guards just to torture them for fun. In the corner of the filthy room, a golden retriever boy cowered, his back shredded by her barbed whip. In the basement, a snake guard was frozen and scarred from constant electro-shocks. When the white tiger guard returned from hard labor, he looked at me with pure, murderous hatred, ready to tear me apart to protect the others. Even the local elites kicked down my door to mock my pathetic life and try to steal my men.
I was a decorated commander who bled for humanity. Why was I trapped in this ruined vessel, bearing the sins of a degenerate abuser?
It was all a setup by her sweet-faced cousin, Debera, who stole her royal life and sent her to this outer-rim hellhole to rot.
I gritted my teeth and plunged a military-grade gene repair serum into my arm, letting the agony burn away the black filth and weakness.
"The crazy woman you knew before is dead."
I tossed a medical kit to the trembling guards, loaded my old electromagnetic pistol, and headed for the deadly Demon Hunting Zone to start my revenge.