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CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
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THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
" you now stalk me."Clint gave her a long-suffering look. "I didn't mean it that way."Her shoulders sagged, but she buttressed them with a long breath. "Iknow you think I am going to expose your secrets but to be honest, I care less."For a moment, he studied the tabletop, head bowed. Just when she thought she'd admire his hair, he raised his head. "I thought you needed explanations?"She folded her arms over her belly, not quite ready to delve into thatsubject. "We need to talk about our last night together ."Why had she mentioned it? She'd intended to steer way clear of thetopic, but here she was veering straight into oncoming traffic. Okay, sowhat had she meant to discuss with him? Not a goddamn clue."I'm thirsty," she blurted out. She took a menu from the napkin standand pretended to be obsessed with it. "Starving too. Let's order first, okay?"His irritated sigh raked across her nerves. "Whatever you want."There was the problem. She had no idea what she wan
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
The elevator doors spread wide before them. Butterflies flittered in herstomach.Clint hustled out into the hallway, his hand clamped around hers, hisexpression one of pained resolve. The rock-hard erection stretching hispants taut might've had something to do with his expression—and hisruthless pace. They'd made out in his car all the way to their destination,shamelessly oblivious of hisd driver. Her lips still tingled from hisdemanding, almost frenzied kisses. She'd responded in kind, as frantic as hewas to get naked and get it on.He halted them at the door to his apartment. His voice rough, he asked,"Are you good??"" yes ." Her desperate voice betrayed her "Uh-huh." He stared at her for a couple of seconds, as if seeing her forthe first time. Then he shook off his confusion—literally, with a flap of hishead. He unlocked the door, ushering her inside with a hand on her back.Her mind traveled back to the moment before entering the car when he scooped her
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Genevieve rubbed her bare arms, buck naked yet not embarrassed at all. How did Clint do this to her? Make her aroused and aware, of her body and his, without an ounce of guilt. A draft tickled her flesh, sensitized by hot sex and Clint's sizzling gaze on her, the eye contact somehow more thrilling thanhis touch. He gazed at her with more than lust, with…adoration.He skimmed his hands down her body, over her shoulders and aroundher back, down her spine and back around to her sides. His fingers curvedaround her hips.The memory of Clint ripping off her panties and thrusting into heragain and again roared through her mind in a full-sensory experience. Noman had ever ravished her before. When he'd carried her into the bedroom, plopping her down beside the bed, her heartbeat had revved up at the hope he might keep on ravishing her. Though satiated by her explosive orgasm,she craved more of him. Would she ever stop craving Clint Covington ?He stood before her, his jeans undon
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
A tickling sensation feathered across her face rousing Genevieve from a dreamless slumber. She yawned and scratched at her face. The tickling moved to her forehead. She peeled her eyes open, reluctant to give up her languid serenity. Holding a lock of her hair, Clint had fanned it out into a little brush and was skipping it along her brow. During the night, she'd turned onto her side and he now spooned herwith his hard body oddly soft against her backside. One of his musculararms draped over the pillow above her head with his hand lying slack. That was the one tickling her with her own hair. His other arm rested on her body, stretched over her hip, his fingers manipulating the flesh of her thigh,stimulating her to full wakefulness and keen awareness of him. She inhaled deeply, stretching, reveling in the enduring afterglow oftheir fevered passion.He pressed his lips to her ear. "Morning."An object poked her from behind. A long, hard object. She cleared herthroat. "It's hal
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Genevieve was in love and head over heels for Clint, she decided to go with Clint to his family house to pack a few things, while she waited inside the car he went straight in to get his things. Covington walked in and packed some few clothes , he had earlier received an email from one of his men who served as his eyes. They updated him about his superiors who were after his life , ever since his actions during his vacation about getting married and quitting his work with them they have been tailing him and now they finally know where he lives . They were going to find him and kill him especially Genevieve whom they perceive as his weakness. Jennifer walked in immediately after knocking for hours and getting no response " Clint is that you?." She asked as she walked towards his room As she walked closer she felt someone walk behind her and she stopped to see a shadow behind her , she froze on the spot and screamed, Clint heard a her screaming and ran out of his room to see
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
“Good. Now, there are servants in the house. Don’t take that as hope. They will not help you. The phone goes through a switchboard. The operator won’t help you either. If you seek their help, they will report it to me and you’ll be punished.”She flinched at the warm hand on the back of her neck, but he wasn’t there to hurt her. Instead, he massaged the tight muscles, a feeling that was comforting in spite of everything. She shouldn’t want his hands anywhere near her, but if she was stuck with this man, she much preferred kindness to cruelty or pain.“I can’t let you go, and I won’t be able to resist killing you . But I’ll be good to you if you let me, Genevieve . Are you going to let me?”Each time her name rolled off his tongue, it was as if a piece of her will broke off from her and floated away. She wanted to argue about belonging to him but knew that wasn’t the way to get to the kindness he offered. She nodded, not wanting to have to call him his name again. He let it slide.
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
In between her moments of fear and indignation, he'd glimpsed the half-starved glances she’d aimed his way. It was the effect he’d always had on women. The combination of danger, money, and looks was too irresistible for most females of the species—even a captive like Genevieve whom he had just pretend to love .He did not want to imagine how disappointed she must be .He intended to make this as easy on her as possible, if she’d let him. Each tiny step toward complete submission would be rewarded. Each misstep, punished. By the time he was finished with her, she would crave him so deeply, she wouldn’t remember this had all started with her forceful loss of freedom.It had been a long night, especially so close to Christmas. Though he couldn’t imagine his men caring one way or the other about how Genevieve had come to be here, the maid and the workers didn’t need to know. He’d have to make sure only the trusted ones have acess to her .Once he’d made the choice to get involved in R
THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
Dave stared at the moon shining in through the large windows, gritting his teeth as Genevieve’s breath evened out in sleep, the cat still purring in her arms. It was so simple. She was attracted to him. She was desperate to stay safe. That equation should have added up right.But the amount of terror she’d experienced at a mild spanking told him all he needed to know. If there had been any doubt, when he’d slipped his finger inside her, he’d known. She’d been dry. No arousal. No reaction. She wasn’t kinky. Not even a little bit.In a perfect world, Genevieve would have had secret fantasies about being dominated her whole life. She would have tried to resist, but her body would betray her.No matter how scared and upset she was, her cunt would have been at least a little wet. Her clit would be swollen. She’d be flushed and flustered. If she already found him physically attractive, which she’d admitted to, a mild spanking would have her body reacting to him in a favorable way. Instea
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