The Darkest King: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Dark Kings of NYC Book 1)
Chapter 7

Damn, he tastes amazing. It could be the five-thousand-dollar bottle of whiskey he’s drinking, but I doubt it.

Connor Barrett just tastes incredible.

He disappears and returns with the paperwork.

Can I sign it? Sure. But not with my real name. I don’t use an alias—Mancini is common enough in New York–but Connor only knows me as Mia. Putting my real name, Maria Luna Mancini, is not an option. My name is powerful, and not a day goes by that I am not reminded of it.

“You can read it if you want, or just sign it,” he says, handing it to me, eager to get on with the sexy stuff.

I am too. Especially after those dirty words.

Holy hell.

“I swear, all it demands of you is your silence. Nothing more.”

“Where’s the pen?” Two seconds later, it’s in my hand, and I’m scribbling “Mia Bottini” on the line.

Connor tosses it across the room, tugs me to my feet, and rips his shirt off me.

I gasp and reach out to run my fingers over that sexy ink on his chest. The power I feel under my touch causes my body to shudder.

He’s one hundred percent male.

“Now, I taste you,” he growls, tugging the cup of my bra down. When his mouth clamps over my nipple, I let out a cry.

“Oh God, yes.”

Connor rips his mouth from my breast and somehow removes my bra with skill and speed, leaving me bare to him. He takes my other nipple as he cups my first breast, pinching it.

“Spin around.” Connor guides me to the side of the sofa and slides my panties off. “Hands there and ass in the air. God, yes, let me see you.”

I feel completely wanton, with him nudging my feet apart and his breath hitting my thighs.

Lick.

My legs tremble.

His fingers slide through my pussy, and he licks some more. “Jesus, you are so wet, Mia, and sweet as fuck.”

Connor didn’t need my signature on his contract. No matter what happens, after I leave his penthouse, I can never tell anyone.

For both our sakes.

But I want this.

I want this completely delicious moment with Connor Barrett. A man desired by millions of women, who, for some reason, wants me tonight.

Lucky me.

In two weeks, they may pull me out of my happy life and force me to fulfill my duty as the mafia princess I was born to be. God, I hope there’s no arranged marriage in my future.

Then again, exactly how do I expect to meet anyone I could love in the circles my family socializes in? They’re all gangsters and criminals.

Ugh.

So, I’m taking every single second of tonight and enjoying it.

“Here are the rules,” Connor says, lapping at me like an ice cream. “When I give you an instruction, you obey. If you want to stop, you say ‘Ketchup.’”

Really? Ketchup?

“Okay.”

“Yes, sir,” he says.

What? When I don’t reply, he slaps my ass.

“Ouch!” I cry, bolting up.

Connor’s hand is firm on my back, lowering me back down. “Words, Mia.”

Woah, this wasn’t what I was expecting, but my body is tingling with delight and wanting more.

“Ketchup. Got it.”

More, please.

Now.

“Sir,” he repeats, standing, and the loss of his mouth on my core makes me moan loudly. “You call me sir until you leave.”

His mouth is on my neck, and he licks up the side of my face. Every single sensation is sending bolts of pleasure through my body.

Holy hell.

“Yes, sir. Please touch me more, sir.” God, I need his touch between my legs before I die.

Because I will.

If Connor doesn’t start touching me in a more serious and committed way, I am going to explode.

“Good girl. Now, stand up.”

He guides my body up and ties my hands behind my back with something. My breasts, small though they are, push out, and I feel so wanton and wild.

I’ve never used the word wanton in my life.

Then again, I’ve never had a lover like this.

Connor guides me back to his bedroom and positions me against the glass window, tweaking my nipples as he lowers to my clit.

I let out a guttural sound that both excites and embarrasses me.

“When was the last time you came?” he suddenly asks, his dark eyes rising to meet mine.

A blush hits my cheeks, and I stammer, “Um, what? Why? Sir.”

Why does he want to know that?

“Tell me you’re not a virgin.”

Oh.

Though I might be ten years younger than Connor, I’m hardly underage or inexperienced. But I don’t bother arguing the point. I just want his mouth on me.

With a shake of my head, I say, “I’m not. Sir.”

Touch me, dammit.

“I’m going to do a lot of things to your body tonight, so remember your word.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply. My body is burning, and the cool of the glass behind me is a strange, stark contrast sending all kinds of confusing messages to my brain. I’m shuddering with need, and he’s enjoying every second.

Then again, so am I.

Connor’s tongue reaches out as he spreads my flesh with his fingers, and his eyes meet mine once more. “Then surrender to me, Mia. While NYC watches you.”

Oh God.

Why does that turn me on so much?

His mouth surrounds my entire pussy. Connor licks and sucks with the skill of an experienced and passionate lover. He holds me pressed against the glass and consumes me.

“This sweet cunt is mine. All night long,” Connor says, lapping at me furiously.

Lord, I nearly come instantly. Instead, he seems to know when to stop. Knows when to lick, suck, and rub to make sure I don’t.

I hate it.

I love it.

I need it.

Strong hands keep me wide open, his fingers pressing into my flesh with such domination I feel owned. Those chocolate eyes drifting up my body, moment to moment, sending fire through my veins.

He reaches, takes one of my breasts, and pinches the nipple as I cry out. I feel like I’m in the hands of a maestro. Being played with such expertise, my pleasure is guaranteed.

And Lord, it is.

Circling my clit, nipping it with his teeth, Connor then inserts two fingers, and I close my eyes, savoring the small taste of what it will be like when he replaces them with his cock.

“Good girl,” he slowly drawls in that rich baritone voice. “Clench more. I want to feel how tight you’ll be when I’m inside you.”

No disrespect to those who came—pun intended—before, but Connor feels like the first real man I’ve been with.

He’s so masculine.

So powerful.

So much more.

He speeds up the stimulation on my clit with his thumb, his eyes on mine. “Fuck my fingers, Mia. Fuck them.”

Oh hell.

Desire floods my body. His voice. His touch. The feel of him playing my pussy like an instrument.

“You may come now,” he adds, and holy shit, my orgasm strikes and I cry out, arching into him, my arms pulling against the silk ties at my wrists.

“Fuckkkkk.”

“More. Let me have your juices, Mia,” he demands.

This man. His dirty mouth, he’s killing me.

Connor wrings every morsel of my orgasm from my throbbing body. Then, as the convulsions begin to subside, he’s standing and pushing me to my knees.

“Take my cock,” he says as I stumble, my pussy wet between my legs.

I open wide, blinking, pleasure continuing to ghost through me, and watch Connor fists his cock and direct the head into my mouth.

He’s bigger than other men. Smooth and swollen with need.

For me.

When I glance up, I see the wild arousal. His jaw is taut, as if forcing control of his body. He presses in further, and then I’m full of him.

I have never felt so fucking dirty, horny, and sexual in my entire life. I want his cock all the way down my throat. I want him to feel the same pleasure he just gave me.

Without the use of my hands, still tied behind my back, I’m next to useless. Connor grabs the sides of my head and begins to fuck my mouth. He’s in control. He’s been in control from the start. As I suck and relax my throat, he goes deeper and deeper, until I begin to choke.

Our eyes meet, and that dangerous wild animal within is there, on the surface. He’s beautiful, thrilling, and terrifying.

Before I panic, he pulls out, cursing.

“Jesus, Mia. Your mouth,” Connor growls, ripping the ties from my arms and lifting me onto the bed. “On your knees.”

Powerful men aren’t new to me, but Connor handles me like I’m a doll. A sex doll. Those big hands grip my hips and tug me against his groin. Then he moves us back up the bed, close to the headboard. I hear the rip of foil and snap of rubber, then he slaps my ass.

“Ow,” I cry out. “Sir.”

As in ow, that feels amazing, and I shouldn’t like it, but I do.

“Good girl. So fucking hot and wet. Are you ready for my cock?”

“Yes, sir. God, yes, please.”

I feel pathetic but don’t care, desperate for him to fill me. I’m never going to forget this night for as long as I live.

Holy shit. Connor Barrett is about to fuck me.

“You came so big, Mia. I’m going to slip right in this pretty cunt of yours,” Connor says. “Ass in the air.”

He slaps me again, and I’m throbbing. I may have come, but I need to feel this man inside me, like it’s the last thing on earth I must do before I die.

“I’m going hard.” Connor slips the head in. “Deep,” he says, pressing in further. “Filling you,” and further, “and I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember your name.”

His groans join mine, his body slapping against my ass as he begins to thrust. Then he slams in harder and faster.

Then again.

Then again.

“Fuck, God,” I cry, the feel of his cock against the walls of my pussy the most intensively erotic sensation of my life. I grip the sheets in my hands, my head slightly tilted, and pant out my curses.

Connor lifts my body and directs my hands up. “Palms on the wall. That’s it. Such a good girl. My cock loves being in your pussy.”

Why do I love hearing that so much?

He repositions us and resumes his thrusting, his fingers replaceing my clit once more. God, I want him to keep doing that forever.

I’m not shy about pleasuring myself, and I’ve come with all my lovers, but Connor Barrett takes my body to a whole other level.

I’m dizzy with arousal.

Though I’m not even sure I can come again, at the same time, I’m unsure if my orgasm ever stopped. It’s the most stimulated my body has ever been.

Then, his thighs bump my legs an inch further apart, and he swivels to thrust deeper. His other hand reaches and pinches my nipple so hard I cry out.

There’s so much sensation, my brain is about to go blank.

His mouth sucks my neck, and I arch back into him, wanting him everywhere.

He is everywhere.

His cock slamming into me. My clit thrumming, nipple trapped in such painful pleasure, and my head arched as his mouth moves over my neck and then captures my lips.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he growls into my mouth. “So sweet and hot.”

“Connor. Sir,” I moan.

“You take my cock so good. I’m going to keep fucking you all night,” he says, lapping at my tongue and slamming into me harder. “I’m going to fuck every part of your body until I’m sated. Until I’ve had all of you.”

I’m gone.

I can’t focus on anything except the feeling of him, his taste, the sounds of his growls and his voice in my ear, telling me all the things he plans to do.

As he speeds up, my body gives over control.

“Fuck, fuck!” he cries. “Come on my cock, Mia. Yes, tighten around me. Fuck.”

His hands move to my hips as he plows into my body, and then when my hands fall from the wall, he collapses in a controlled heap, taking me with him down to the bed.

Panting, we’re both coming, moaning, and stroking one another as we lie there.

I’m somewhere above planet Earth, in a type of heaven, my body throbbing in waves of pleasure.

When our breaths begin to even out, Connor’s gruff voice says in my ear, “I’m not done with you, Mia. Not even close.”

“Good,” I say between gasps. Because I need to make this worth it.

I know I’ve been followed.

My father wouldn’t let me just drive away with a man and not have his security tail me.

I have until lunchtime tomorrow to come up with the best story of my life.