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 5
Nero knew who I was and that I had lied to him about my name. How did he recognize me? My disguise had been solid. I had even changed my nose and worn more dramatic makeup.
It had worked so well for me in my past.
"I..."
I didn't manage to get a word out before I saw a knife pressed into my neck. My heart raced in fear because I thought I was going to die. There was no way out of the situation. Nero knew who I was.
Even if I managed to run away, he would find me.
He knew my name, and he probably knew my family background. If he and his family had anything to do with my parents' death, he was going to kill me for even being in New York.
Zio had made it clear that it wasn't safe for me in New York, and yet, I had insisted on coming back to solve my parents' murder like the stubborn person I was.
"You have five seconds to tell me what you were doing at my house, Serena Marino, before I end you, right here. And trust me, your body will be gone in ten minutes maximum. No one will even know you were here."
I saw my life flash before my eyes when he said that. I didn't want to lose my life so easily. My brother would be all alone in the world with no one to rely on.
I had to come up with a believable lie. It was a life-or-death situation, and I didn't want to die so soon. I had so much to live for.
So, I told him the first thing I could think of, keeping in mind how he had barely glanced at my naked body before. He wasn't attracted to me at all.
"I'm attracted to you, and I heard your preference was blonde women, so I decided to wear a disguise to see if I could have you, even if it was just for one night," I said weakly.
I almost gagged, having to say such a thing to an arrogant man like Nero. He clearly wasn't above murder. Who was he really? Was he just a billionaire? I didn't know many billionaires who openly threatened to kill people.
"Do you expect me to believe you're obsessed with me?" He asked.
I nodded my head, and he chuckled. I couldn't tell if he was that narcissistic that he believed I was obsessed with him, or if he was laughing at my audacity to lie to him.
He let me go and stepped back.
"Look at me."
I slowly turned to look at him. I wasn't sure what would happen, but I hoped the universe was on my side for once in my life.
"Serena Marino, or Serena Ricci, daughter of the late Giovanni and Estelle Ricci. You recently inherited a fortune from your grandparents. You could be traveling the world right now, and yet, you're here. What do you want from me?"
"I told you-"
"Liar. I saw the look of horror on your face when I asked you to take off your clothes. You weren't there for sex. Besides, I caught you trying to break into my office. Don't insult my intelligence."
Either he didn't know what happened to my parents, or he assumed I was weak and I couldn't find out what really happened to them. Either way, he didn't seem to have a clue about why I was at his house.
My uncle told me their murder was linked to the DeLuca family, and since Nero was the head of the American part of their dynasty, he had to be involved in some way. I had to find out the truth.
"I was lost. I was there to seduce you. Look at you. You're handsome, rich, and I hear your skills in bed are unmatched."
"Okay. I'll give you what you want. You want to have me? You can."
I thought he wasn't attracted to me. When I told him I wanted him, I was hoping he would be disgusted and leave me alone.
"What?" I asked, not believing what I heard.
"As I'm sure you've heard, I have certain...tastes in bed."
What did he mean by that? I hadn't heard anything.
"You look surprised, birichina. Haven't you heard? I'm dominant in bed, and I require my sexual partners to be very submissive."
I heard about BDSM, and I had always been curious about how it worked. Hearing Nero mention it so casually was concerning.
"I don't..."
He grabbed my chin and smiled, but for some reason, that smile didn't reach his eyes. It was almost taunting or condescending.
"I can already tell you'll be the perfect submissive."
He walked towards the exit and stopped when he reached it.
"At 8 p.m., a car will be waiting outside this building. You'll know it by the driver. Black suit, no name. Do not bring anyone with you. Do not ask where you're going. When you arrive, the concierge will hand you a key card. Take the private elevator to the top floor.
"Don't knock. Just come in. I don't like delays, Serena. Be on time."
The only question that remained was how far I was willing to go to find out the truth.
"Oh, and I don't have a preference for blondes. I'm much more taken with sexy brunettes with green eyes."
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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.