The Arrangement (SassyKisses x Jack7654)

[SassyKisses]

Anastasia Bianchi has never really had a normal life. She’s a public figure, a socialite in the eyes of the public. But there is much more to her and her background. There are three Italian families that run the U.S. and her father is the head of the one that runs Chicago. He is also a public figure, a billionaire business man in the eyes of the public. But he is also a ruler, one that rules with an iron fist and has killed many to get where he is today. Although each city has a leading Italian family, they are all rivals. Each boss doing whatever it takes to weaken the others. Women in the mafia are merely trophies and bargaining chips, used to secure benefiting arrangements through marriage. Anastasia’s future is no different and she knows that, but she’s also headstrong like her mother and father. Her mother isn’t actually Italian, she’s Russian. Her father fell in love with her without meaning too and ended up justifying it by going into a partnership with their Russian rivals, the Bratva. That partnerships only made him more of an enemy to the other Italian mafia families, particularly the New York branch who have many personal vendettas with the Russians. Her mother is the reason she has a Russian name, having persuaded her husband to let her give one to their only daughter since their two older sons were already the heirs. Despite the many obstacles, her parents were and are deeply in love. That what makes her despise the idea of an arranged marriage even more, wanting love.

She appears to be a spoiled princess from the outside, with her designer clothes, flawless makeup, and perfect hair. But she’s got more of an edge that she tucks away in the public eye. With her mother being Russian, the woman had insisted her only daughter learn how to defend herself. So though she may be good with a credit card and fashion, she’s just as good with a knife and a gun. Her fierce side is one not many get to see, having been threatened with punishment should she let anyone know that she is more than a obedient prize for some powerful man to win. Just because she’s her fathers favorite doesn’t mean she hasn’t been punished before. She’s not one to take things lying down and she has the scars to prove it.

Most mafia daughters are married off by eighteen, but her father is reluctant to give his daughter to just anyone. Partly out of affection and partly because her worth only goes up as she becomes a woman. Now she is twenty three, he knows he can’t hold onto her much longer. Besides, she only gets more confident and headstrong the more he waits. It turns out that it’s not just the higher ups in Chicago that have noticed the woman she has become, but also his enemies. And one of them, Dante Regio, approaches him with an offer that he can’t refuse.

Anastasia is oblivious to her father bargaining her off, caught up in her normal life of fashion shows, charity brunches, and galas. But she’s smart, smarter than she lets on, so she’s suspicious when her father suddenly wants to take her on a spontaneous trip. They are on his private jet, curtains closed for the “surprise.” Ana isn’t one to beat around the bush, demanding her father tell her what’s going on and why the rest of their family isn’t joining them. The older man is serious as he explains that they are flying to meet her future husband, the head of the Regio family who is supposed to be their enemy, and that she will not be returning home. The young woman is immediately in a rage, repeating her refusal to go along with his plan when a flight attendant hands her a drink. She takes it without thinking to try and calm the rage inside of her. And just when she has gone into full arguing mode, her eyelids become heavy. Because of course he drugged her, knowing he wouldn’t get her off the plan and to the man that now owns her without hurting her. Paperwork is signed and dated while she sleeps. An SUV meets them at the airport and her father leaves her in the hands of two bodyguards with one last kiss on her forehead, handing over the paperwork as well.

The next time she wakes up, she is slumped in a chair in an unknown room. She pretends to be sleeping still though and waits until big hands go to lift her to attack. She gets some good hits and kicks in before a needle is shoved in her arm and she’s knocked out again. This time she wakes up lying on a giant bed in a dimly lit room. She’s left to wonder just where the fuck she is, looking through the whole room after finding the door locked much to her annoyance. There’s a walk in closet full of designer clothing that does not belong to her, but obviously put in there for her and a luxurious bathroom filled with necessary toiletries. The curtains are drawn, but she can see that it’s dark outside wherever she is. It’s an hour of wondering before two guards come to retrieve her. Another attempted fight on her part, but they expect it and handle her more easily considering her much smaller size. She’s dragged through dark hallways and into a large study before she’s shoved into a chair. She immediately goes to stand up and give the guards a piece of her mind before a stern voice speaks from the shadows and commands the men to leave them. His tone almost makes her shiver, but she sits straight and stares the outline of the man down. The man who has changed her life forever. Dante Regio.

Deep brown eyes stare at him, her mascara slightly smudged around the edges from the days events, but they are still as fierce as ever. Her dark chocolate locks are a little mussed as well, falling down just to the tops of her shoulders haphazardly after the elastic that held it in a tight bun had broken in her struggle against the guards. Luckily she’s too busy glaring at the man she has been given to to realize that the hem of her knee length dress has been ripped and is now revealing a chunk olive toned leg up one side all the way to her lower hip. The black dress clings to every natural curve she has and by some miracle, the strapless top has stayed put for the most part. Her heels are gone, leaving her barefoot and at her height of 5’5 when standing. Anastasia simply lifts her chin high as she stares at him, trying to look more in control than she is. She doesn’t dare speak first, rather hoping the silent treatment annoys him at first.

 

[jack7654]

“I believe introductions are in order,” said a gruff heavy voice, the sound devoid of any shrill pitch. It was a commanding voice, with every word spoken slowly and calmly. “I am your husband, Dante Regio.”

It is often the case that those that find themselves in a position of power, often end up either drunk and drowned under the weight they are incapable of bearing, entirely surrendering to excesses, or managing it with such capability and finesse, one would wonder if they were born for the task. History has been privy to either of these excesses. Dante Regio, however, could be considered a part of the second category.

The Regio family had been the undisputed Mafia and crime lords of New York for more than three generations. It was to the point where they were often called the ‘Yakuza of the West’. Therefore, expectations from young Dante were always high for he had to hold the mantle up to the stellar standards of three generations of successful patriarchs of the family. None, however had expected things to take such a turn as this.

Giuseppe Regio had been patriarch of the Regio family for the past twenty years and everyone expected him to remain so for another two decades before handing the mantle to his capable son Dante. He was a man of diplomacy, always trying his best to avoid any and every conflict and settling disputes through arbitration and diplomacy. However, this every pacifism, unbecoming of a crime lord, did lead to his own downfall.

The Russian Sidorov family had the monopoly on supply of cocaine to Canada, the benefits of which they reaped for decades, before the clever diplomat Giuseppe quickly made an offer that the Canadian mafia could not refuse. This turn of events, sparked the eternal rivalry between the Sidorov family and the Regio family, which ultimately led to Giuseppe’s assassination as he was travelling in his car through Brooklyn. The order was to end the entire Regio family, but either due to a stroke of magnificent luck, or coincidence, Dante, who was to accompany his father that day, did not as he had fractured his foot that very morning. What followed was the rampage of a young eighteen year old Don to end the existence of the Sidorov Russian family.

Unlike his father’s pacifism, Dante followed the policy of ‘Might is Right’. Sending secret assassins, arranging for bombings, accidental deaths, disappearances, all of them began occurring within the top tier of the Sidorov mafia. This went on until the end, where the patriarch himself was abducted one night from his mansion and transported by ship all the way to New York and tortured to death at the very hands of the son whose father he had killed. Dante had taken his revenge for his father’s murder and had started to expand the empire at a pace never witnessed before. The Regio influence grew all across the country and in almost every state. Where there was no mafia, one was established, where there was an established one, Dante had invented a kind of feudal system, making them an alliance with offers that they simply found too tempting to refuse. Now, all that was left was Chicago: the one place where Dante had no established connection or business.

“I must have Chicago at any cost!” Dante said to his trusted sub-ordinate Armando.
“The patriarch there is stubborn, Boss,” Armando replied. “He is too proud to part with any territory or accept any offers.”
“Are there any options to have his feet in concrete at the bottom of the Hudson?”
“The Chicago unit is very well knit. Entering that way by force will simply result in resistance that would do more harm than good.”
Scratching his chin, Dante thought for a moment before saying, “All right. Get me information. Everything, right from what he does, his life, his family, his dirty secrets, everything! There must be something we can use against him.”

A few weeks later Armando and Dante were sitting in his study going through some papers. “This can’t be! We have nothing against him?”
Armando shook his head with a sigh. “He’s clean,” he said.
“There must be something!” Dante exclaimed and started to peruse the papers. He finally stopped at the paper that said ‘Family’ and a devious grin appeared on his face when he saw something on it. “I think I found it.”

Not much later, an offer was made and it was too enticing for the Don of Chicago to refuse. It would not only provide his business immunity from the rising influence and clout of the Regio family, but also ensure it is his bloodline that rules over the Regio family in the future.

“I believe then we have a deal,” said Dante, his grin making it obvious that this was something the man could not refuse as he moved his hand forward. Dante shook it and knew from the pictures of the girl he saw that not only would this set in stone his rule as the undisputed crime Lord in the country, but also provide him an elegant and beautiful trophy wife, whom he could take for events.

He was in his mansion, getting dressed for the first dinner with his wife. The papers were already signed, the marriage officiated, and his wife brought into the mansion. Now all he had to do was come to an agreement before the woman the moment she wakes up. He would then make her understand the terms of their marriage and her duty as the wife of the patriarch of the Regio family. But he simply did not expect what came next.

He was dressed in an elegant suit, dark blue with a tie of similar colour painted across his white shirt. Dante always believed in dressing to perfection, for a don is nothing but the appearance of intimidation and business and that is why he always remained slick and clean shaven, even at home. He was not looking in her direction, his back towards the woman when he ordered the guards to leave before turning around and stepping forward. However, for once in his life, Dante Regio fell speechless. Pictures online simply did not do justice to what he saw before him. The woman before him was simply…breathtaking. It was not that he had not seen anyone more beautiful, nor that he never had a woman in bed before. A man in his position could always have any woman he desired and he did. However, as he gazed at the body, the slightly torn fabric of her dress revealing her bare legs, her loose locks and finally, her eyes, from which he simply could not look away, he felt that for the first time in the twenty-nine years of his life, instead of a woman offering herself to him, like he was used to, he wanted a woman. He wanted her.

Several moments passed and all he did was gaze into her eyes, looking at her so longingly, before finally snapping out of his daze and returning to his former self he said, “Whether you like it or not, Mrs. Regio, the fact is that you are my wife and you must learn to accept it. And you must live the part. This kind of appearance is unbecoming of the wife of the Regio patriarch. You hair let loose like this…the torn dress! Despicable! Unacceptable! Servant! Where is the servant?”

A maid came charging into the room. “Yes sir,” she said bowing. “Take Mrs. Regio to her room and help her get properly dressed. Now!”
He then turned to Anastasia and said, “I shall be awaiting your return in proper form at the dinner table.”

 

[SassyKisses]

Anastasia’s jaw clenches at the term “husband.” She almost wants to laugh at the situation she is in, considering she never imagined she would be drugged and wake up with a husband she’s never met. It’s ridiculous. But the fact that this is very much real makes any of the ridiculousness fade away. The woman is still fuzzy on as to what deal was struck between the rival mafia boss and her father, only knowing for a fact that her father traded her away like a piece of meat. His own flesh and blood… That thought stirs more anger up inside of her as she sits quietly, still glaring when he finally turns around and steps into the light to face her.

She tries not to let his appearance get to her, she really does. But his gaze is intense and his face so sculpted it looks as if it were carved from marble. Not to mention the fact that she’s a sucker for perfectly groomed and dressed men. Just because she knows of the Regio family, doesn’t mean she’s ever seen photos of any of them. Her father kept her as in the dark as much as he could when it came to business and their enemies. Her eyes briefly sweep over Dante, again noticing just how fit he is even through his expensive suit. Okay, so he’s a hot asshole, that doesn’t change anything, Ana tells herself quickly and forces her eyes back to his face to resume her glare. She resists the urge to squirm once he’s finished his own body scan of her and meets her gaze again. Something about it sends shivers through her, and not particularly in a bad way. It’s unsettling, yet intriguing.

Then he opens his mouth again and the trance vanishes as quickly as it came. If looks could kill, he’d be dead on the spot. It starts with him referring to her as “Mrs. Regio,” but it’s when he goes off about her appearance that her composure goes out the window. Before she knows it, she’s on her feet to tell him off.

“My name is Anastasia Bianchi. Not Mrs. Regio.” Ana snaps at him, the last bit nearly a sneer and her melodic voice trembling with rage. “And the only reason my appearance is so disheveled is because of your goons! Maybe next time you think about taking a wife, don’t drug her and put her in a room with strange men to wake up to.” Her brows raise pointedly, tone dripping with sarcasm. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, her anger is currently driving her to be fearless with the powerful man. She chooses to neglect the fact that she started the fight with his men despite their best efforts to not be too rough with her.

One might think she has a death wish as she actually laughs in disbelief at “in proper form.” Does he really think he can just order her around like that? Clearly he got no warning about her from her father.

“Fuck you. I don’t take orders from you.” The words fall from her full lips easily, only too happy to speak her mind and hopefully put a damper on his evening with her defiance. Her arms cross, causing her cleavage to become more prominent unknowingly in her strapless dress. She has to tilt her chin up from where she stands to be able to hold his gaze with their height difference. Her body language confirms that she has no intention of listening to him or leaving the room right now, ignoring the maid completely. And those deep brown eyes don't falter, glittering with anger and challenge. She is not some trophy wife he gets to dress up and order around as he pleases, at least that’s what she tells herself.

 

[jack7654]

Never had anyone looked at him with such defiant eyes! Never had anyone spoken to him in such an audaciously impertinent manner. It was entirely unacceptable. The name Dante wreaked fear and havoc in the hearts of the most dangerous men and here this feeble woman was openly disrespecting him in front of his own servants! How dare she?
Yet, somehow, this impertinence, this defiance that nobody ever showed him was so inexplicably attractive, he could not even express it. Though his face did not show, Dante wanted to just pounce on this woman and claim her. The very thought was making him hard and desirous. Thankfully, he was wearing pants and nobody would notice. However, there was another very important matter to deal with before her.

“Lucio!” He screamed in a loud and menacing voice. “Marco!”
Two men came charging into the room. They were so quick that one would think that they were already present in the room. They stood before Dante, alert and fearful. They knew that this kind of voice only meant trouble. He looked at them with terrorising glare that would make any man squirm.
“What were your orders?” he asked the men, almost grinding his teeth.
“To…”
“To bring…”

“To bring what?” Dante shouted.
“To bring ma’am.”
“Yes, you fucking idoti! Bring her! How dare you touch her? How do you fucking dare get rough with her? Did you two actually treat the patriarch’s wife like she was some bitch on the street you picked up?”
“N…”Marco could complete his sentence for with a blinding pace, something collided with him. The strike was so fast, it was barely visible. All that was left was Marco unconscious on the floor, bleeding in the mouth and two of his teeth beside him on the floor.
Lucio tried to turn and run at what he saw, but down came on the curve of his neck such a precisely executed karate chop from behind that he was out cold within a moment.

Then, a few servants came running into the room. “Take them away to the hospital,” Dante commanded. “Get them treated. I will pay for it.” The servants nodded and picked them limp henchmen off the floor as one off the servants came forward with a clean white towel in his hand and offered it to Dante with a bow. “Thank you,” Dante said, taking the towel from him and began to wipe the blood that was now smeared across his knuckles. “And inform it to everyone: the men and servants alike. No man must ever lay a finger on Mrs. Anastasia. Am I clear on this? Not a finger.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the servant and left the room.

Dante then turned towards Anastasia with the same menacing look and said, “Now, for you.” He walked towards slowly, like a predator taking careful steps before attacking his prey and stood right in front of her, towering over her at his full six feet height. He grabbed her by the wrist before she even could see it and made her walk with him, all the while a strong, vice like grip around her wrist. He made her follow until they were outside a room. “This is our room,” he said and looked at her. There was still that menacing gaze, but any woman would be able to catch the desire hidden in them; the desire for Anastasia, to have her and claim her as his own. It was like a furious conflagration within him. It was only now that he was out from his state of anger against his men that Dante noticed the rather evident cleavage in Anastasia’s dress. If there was ever a look that made a woman feel like she was the most desirable woman in the world, Anastasia was getting that look right now. Dante was usually a very composed man, but the sight of those breasts almost made him sweat with desire and he, in fact, licked his lips. What he wouldn’t give to just grab them, knead them, kiss th…He was pulled back to reality as he looked up at Anastasia, now directly in her eyes and said with a commanding voice, “I am sorry, Mrs. Bianchi, but I don’t ever take ‘No’ for an answer. You are my wife now: The wife of the patriarch of the Regio family. There is a decorum you must maintain.” His strong hand reached up, grabbing her by the chin as he moved in closer, so close that she could feel his muscular chest graze against her breasts through the fabric of their clothes, not to mention the firm grasp on her chin, holding her there. He was so close that she could feel his calm breath upon her face.

“If…” he stopped and could not speak further. Just being so close to Anastasia already was peeling off his layer of austerity. He felt himself giving in to his desire and leaned in closer to her lips. His breath was warm now, not the cold stern one she just felt, but one growing heavier and faster as his lips closed in to her, his eyes always meeting hers, in an unbroken gaze. But… the façade took over and he let her go before their lips met; now moving a little back to make some distance between them.

“Mrs. Binachi,” he said, his eyes again back into the cold gaze, the very opposite of the fiery desire, which she just saw. “You must understand that the idea of drugging you was your father’s and not mine. I wanted you to be fully aware for this. Furthermore, there was no other choice. This was the only way to make an alliance. If we didn’t do this, I would be forced to take action then your father, you, and rest of your family would be down the Hudson. But I wanted to avoid the bloodshed and before I even came with this proposition to your father, he offered it to me. And now, this is the fact, so I want you to understand and follow the decorum of this family. Do you understand that, Mrs. Bianchi?”
He did not wait for her answer and simply turned and left, letting the fact sink in and also allow her time to change.

 

[SassyKisses]

She half expected him to lunge at her after her little outburst, but no. He simply keeps staring at her in that unnerving, intense way of his. All she can do is stand her ground and appear tougher than she feels. Then he’s shouting names and she flinches at each one despite her best efforts. Curiosity fills her brown eyes, glancing quickly at the two men entering the study and recognizing them as the men she attacked mostly by the scratch marks from her nails on their faces. Anastasia turns a little smug at knowing she did a little visible damage before her attention is brought right back to Dante. There is no hiding the shock that fills her expression as he gets angry with them for being rough with her. Why does he care? She would have thought he’d be happy they brought her to him. Then he is knocking both large men out in the blink of an eye. His new bride is speechless, torn between making a run for it or acting tough and unaffected while servants take the unconscious men away like it’s a just another normal night.

Guilt tugs at her a little, considering it is her fault the men got in trouble at all. But reminding herself that they drugged her for the second time makes it disappear quickly. Her jaw tightens again once she brings her calmed gaze back to the mafia boss wiping blood from his hand. The warning to his men is interesting. Would that make her escape easier with the men fearing his wrath for touching her? She isn’t given much time to dwell on it as his eyes return to her and she can’t help swallowing hard at the menacing look in them. Fuck, maybe she should have made a run for it after all. Anastasia doesn’t know a thing about the man. For all she knows, he could be willing to hit and abuse a woman for disobeying. She’s heard enough horror stories from mafia wives back in Chicago. By some miracle she doesn’t shrink away in fear, standing completely still and looking up at him. That’s how she doesn’t notice how quickly he grabs her wrist. His touch is enough to bring her back to her rebellious self. The much smaller woman yanks at his unyielding hold. “Let me go!” She snaps as she’s tugged along down a long hallway, fighting him the whole way. She’s a little out of breath from it all when he reaches his destination and they are standing face to face.

“This is our room.”

The use of “our” makes her go completely still and her eyes snap up to his. The idea of sharing a room with him is not a pleasant one for her, knowing that means a bed too. Oh god, does he intend on consummating this sham of a marriage already? If so, she’s going to give him the fight of his life. Ana can see the desire in his eyes the more she stares into them and she catches that drop to her chest. It should disgust her, make her want to drive her knee up right between his legs right this moment… yet she doesn’t. She’s never had a man look at her with such desire before and it sends shivers through her. Just when she is beginning to soften, he opens that mouth of his and she is ready to knee him in the balls all over again. Her eyes narrow immediately and her own lips part to speak her mind until he grabs her chin in his free hand and pulls her against his hard frame. Her breath hitches from the feeling of his muscular chest, unable to stop her body from reacting. She can only hope his clothing keeps him from feeling her nipples hardening beneath her own dress, cursing her lack of a bra. Her heart begins to pound in her chest the more they stare at each other, feeling his breath getting closer and closer. She should be squirming to get away, she should be swearing at him, anything… But Dante’s touch has her trapped. She finds herself wanting to know what his lips will feel like on hers and there’s no shaking the feeling. Until he suddenly comes to his senses and is pulling back.

The disappointment disappears as quickly as it came the moment he speaks. She believes him when he says the drugging was her fathers idea because he’s the only one who knows that she is plenty capable with a knife and a gun if she gets hold of one. However, she does not believe that it was her fathers idea to offer her hand in marriage. Not unless Dante was threatening his family and business, which her new husband confirms that he was. “It’s lovely to know that if I didn’t become your wife, I would just be another dead body to you. Just what every woman wants to hear.” Anastasia makes no effort to hide her sarcasm and she also makes no effort to answer his question even though he turns and leaves anyway. Does she understand? She absolutely does not. He may have done this to avoid war, but she plans on giving him one anyway.

She buries the desire to scream her frustration with Dante and with her situation as she turns and opens the door to his room, not willing to admit to it as theirs. It’s huge and luxurious of course. Ana almost laughs at how the dark, neutral tones scream mafia. She’s curious as to what she’s expected to change into when she hasn’t seen her vacation suitcase anywhere. Ignoring the king bed that makes her stomach knot with nerves, she heads for the walk in closet. What she finds is one side with all of his clothing and the opposite filled with clothing for a woman. It’s not her clothing, but a brand new designer wardrobe. She can’t help running her hands through some of the hanging pieces, having a huge love for fashion. She does notice that everything is something she would wear as if he knows her style already. She wouldn’t put it past him to have had his people do a full background check and personal research on her. That thought is irritating, but she files it away for later. Instead she searches through to find what she wants to wear.

In an effort to look somber and go for funeral vibes over wedding vibes, she chooses an all black look. The hem stops mid thigh to show off her toned legs and is sleeveless, but she pairs it with a black and sheer paneled open cardigan that falls to her ankles. She considers not wearing heels in case she needs to run away from him, but she figures it will be better to make an escape in the daylight and once she hopefully gets some answers out of him at dinner as to where the hell they are. Something tells her it’s not his home territory of New York. Once dressed and accessorized with some big gold hoops she finds in a jewelry display, she moves into the equally luxurious bathroom to hopefully fix her hair and makeup. What she finds is every single necessary skincare and makeup product of hers neatly organized on one side of the double sink, clearly found from the luggage she packed. The fact that her life has been moved to a new place with new people in the space of a day makes her sigh, eyes finding herself in the mirror. She looks like a mess even to herself with her hair mussed up and her makeup smeared. Her shoulders slump a bit now that she has some privacy, resisting the urge to cry as she thinks about her family back home in Chicago. Her mother would have warned her, so she imagines she too just found out her daughter wouldn’t be returning from the flight. Would she try to get her back? Is that even possible? She has to shake her head of those thoughts. No. She’s stuck here unless she finds a way out herself. No mafia boss willingly gives up his property. Because that’s what she is, his property. That makes her shoulders straighten and her chin tilt up. She just needs to play the part of a good little trophy wife tonight and tomorrow she’ll plan her escape.

Anastasia briefly entertains the idea of removing all makeup from her elegant features, but her makeup has always been her armor of sorts when facing the public or her own mafia family so she can’t bring herself to do it. There are few people in her life that see her without it, always feeling like it makes her vulnerable in a way. So instead, she cleans up the smudged mascara and touches up what’s left along with the addition of some eyeliner. Her hair is a bit harder to fix without a shower and more product, settling for brushing it back into a slick low little bun. With a sweep of soft pink lipstick she is ready to face her new husband. Without her cellphone Anastasia has no clue to how long she took, but she secretly hopes he’s impatiently waiting for her just for the pleasure of annoying him.

When she does step back out into the hallway, a servant is waiting to escort her to what can only be describes as a dining hall with the size of it. Part of her wonders just how big the house is. Although soon she’s too distracted by the man who she was pressed up against not too long ago to think about it. The servant bows beside her and she resists the urge to roll her eyes. The woman leaves them immediately after, Anastasia eyeing the spot that is set for her beside Dante's at the head of the table. She would have preferred to be at the opposite end. She doesn’t state that wish though, instead mimicking the servants bow in a sarcastic manner. “Does this meet your requirements, your highness?” One hand gestures to her new outfit and the other going to her hip, eyes twinkling to let him know she’s proud of her little display as she makes no move to sit down.

 

[jack7654]

Dante waited patiently, he waited a long while….a very long while. It felt like forever and he did not like being made to wit this way. Anastasia really was testing the limits of his patience. If she wasn’t so…awfully desirable, he might be a little more stern with her. But she was…he could simply not word how he felt about her. It was more of a feeling, a feeling of heat covering his loins. Then his thoughts were broken by the word ‘Highness’ and he turned to witness Anastasia standing in front of him. It essentially took all his will and effort not to gape when he saw her. His eyes were fixated on her, gazing from the beautiful brown hair to those full kissable lips. He could not help but stare at those perfect breasts on which he desired his lips and he could only imagine the wonder between her legs. In fact, all he wanted to do right now is bend her over on this table and fuck her ruthlessly. But, within a moment, the daze was broken and he was back to his senses, only hoping she did not notice the fierce desire with which he just gazed at her.

“Sit down and eat,” Dante said, pointing to the chair beside him. “The food will help wear off any effects of the narcotics.” He then began to eat. Dante was slow, taking eat bite carefully, elegantly, using every one of the seven spoons, forks, and knives laden before him for different purposes and not spilling an inch of anything, including the dessert. He savoured the taste and even gracefully smelled the wine before sipping it. However, he did not speak a word to Anastasia throughout the meal and, when they were done, he rose up and took her by the hand. This was unlike the previous occasion, when he held her by the wrist. “We must retreat to our room,” he said.

While holding Anastasia’s hand was simply a strategic move, in order to suggest to his men and servants that she was now entirely within his grasp, Dante felt he probably had his own selfish reasons for doing so. He wanted to touch her, feel her palm, her fingers. They were so warm, so soft; his mind had already started running to thoughts of how it would feel if that hand held tight around his cock. The very thought made him hold her hand even firmer and, halfway to their room, he felt his hand move instinctively, almost without his conscious permission into a more intimate grasp around her hand, fingers entwined as he laced them together in a passionate hold of two lovers, their hands together.

Sadly, they had finally reached their room and Dante had to, with much dismay, part their connected hands. He opened it and led her in along with him. In the bright lights of the room, Dante noticed something, as he gazed at Anastasia. “You have something…” He said, pointing to her lips. There was a small bit of sauce stuck to the corner of her lips. He tried pointing it out, but knew that in such situations, it is hard for the person with the mark to see it. So, he himself reached forward to try to clean it. Placing his fingers lovingly under her chin, he carefully began to clean the corner of her lips with his thumb. His gaze meeting hers, Dante felt like he would never be able to look away as his thumb felt the warm skin of her face. The desire only made him grow bolder as he did not stop there. His thumb moved slowly to her lower lip, caressing the soft plump flesh and feeling its every inch, every contour as Dante started to feel aroused, his need for this woman growing more than any other he felt, even more than the desire to become the most powerful overlord of the country. It was simple, pure, flaming lust for her that grew within him as he once again stared at her breasts. She could probably even see his eyes wandering between her legs. He then looked back up again into her eyes as his thumb began to graze against her upper lip and back down to her lower lip, where he slowly moved deeper, feeling the inner wet portion of her lip. God! It was so hot and wet, how would it feel, he thought, wrapped around his cock. “You know, Anastasia…” he whispered, now rather intimately using her first name rather than calling her Mrs. Regio or Mrs. Bianchi. His voice, his breath was layered with lust and desire. “You are breathtakingly beautiful…” His hand, on its own volition reached down to his crotch. It was because he was getting hard. Considering the size of his penis, an erection in his pants was always discomforting and that is what he felt right now. Moreover, it was always evident when he had one because his cock become visibly large through his pants every time he was hard. But was the discomfort the only reason? He felt that it was more because he wanted to touch it as he touched her or maybe tell her to touch it. If only…He wanted to push her down on her knees right now and make her suck it.

But that is when he moved his finger away and turned around. No, he could not. He wanted her, more than anything else that he had ever wanted. But, not like this, not without her consent. He only hoped she did not see the rather evident erection through his pants. Whatever he may have been, this was the one unforgiveable sin for Dante. The one indulgence he did not allow himself or any of his men. He allowed them to enjoy as many brothels as they liked, but whenever he heard one of his men had raped a woman, that men was always brought before him and Dante himself put a bullet in such a man’s head in front of as many of his men could, making the rules of the Regio family clear to them.

Finally, Dante took off his coat and loosened his tie. Carefully folding both of these garments, he placed them in his wardrobe and opened the top two buttons of his shirt, which not only revealed a part of his muscular chest, but also the sparse black hair that covered his torso. He then made his way to the bed and picked up a pillow and blanket from it, placing them on the couch in front of the bed. Turning around, he said to Anastasia, “You can sleep on the bed, Mrs. Bianchi, I will take the couch.” He then turned around to set the pillow and the blanket in proper order on the bed, but…oh did he hope….Did he just hope deep within his heart that Anastasia would tell him not to…no…Command him not to take the couch. That she would demand that he take her to the bed and ravage her, bend her over and fuck her brains out. But, that was just him hoping. What else could he do? He married this woman against her will, she was drugged and brought here. He was probably the last man she wanted in the world and she, probably, was the only one he wanted right now. What a predicament he found himself in. If only she felt the same way as he did….

 

[SassyKisses]

Anastasia doesn’t miss his thorough exam of her in her new outfit and there is no stopping the corners of her lips from lifting slightly in a satisfied smirk. Knowing he’s attracted to her could give her an advantage if she uses it right and doesn’t get distracted by just how strikingly handsome he is. Her smugness officially ends the moment he tells her to “sit down and eat.” She opens her mouth to refuse, but the addition of helping to wear off the rest of the drugs in her system stops her. With a small huff, she moves to her chair and sits. She expects conversation and answers, yet all she receives is silence throughout the meal. Her brown eyes stare at him often, as if willing him to speak. But Dante seems to be intent on ignoring her. Instead she’s left to pick at her food. It’s not that she hasn’t been taught how to eat properly, it’s just that she doesn’t care to abide by those rules right now. Not that it matters when she spends most of the time just pushing the food around her plate after eating as much as she can stomach. Having her life turned upside down has made her lose her appetite some.

Just when the silence is pushing her over the edge, her new husband rises and is reaching for her hand. Ana isn’t given a choice in following, walking just a little behind him rather than at his side. Her heels add a few inches to her height, but the top of her head still only reaches the top of his shoulder. His hand holding hers is distracting, especially when his grip tightens and then his fingers lace with hers. Her eyes fall down to look at their joined hands, brows furrowed in slight confusion. One doesn’t usually hear of a hardened mafia boss holding his wife’s hand to walk to their bedroom. She half expected to be dragged so she couldn’t try to run away. Thankfully they arrive at the door and she’s freed from the spell of his touch. He has only just stepped in after her and closed the door when he’s speaking to her. Confusion fills her eyes, lifting a hand to try and get whatever he is pointing too. Anastasia barely gets a chance though, Dante taking it upon himself to assist. The young woman is left speechless while he takes her chin in his large hand and uses his thumb to wipe the corner of her mouth. His intense gaze sucks her right in, unable to look away. She doesn’t even stop him when he drops his thumb to stroke along her lower lip. The touch is so intimate and tender and she can’t keep her body from coming alive from it. Her pulse races, her eyes darken, and her cheeks tinted with a light flush of pink. Despite his dropping eyes, hers never leave his face, taking in every perfect detail. Those full lips part just faintly as his thumb explores deeper, barely resisting the urge to grab the lapels of his jacket in her hands and tug his mouth to hers. Fuck. She wants to kiss him, something she’s not supposed to want.

“You know, Anastasia…”

If she wasn’t aroused before, she is now. The way he whispers her name is heavenly. She swears it alone causes throbbing between her legs. His compliment catches her off guard, finally looking away on a blush. That’s how she notices the current situation in his pants. Anastasia can only see enough to know that he’s hard and well above average for it to be that obvious. Her blush deepens immediately and then the thought of him trying to lull her into a false sense of security with his touch enters her mind and she begins to come to her senses at the same time he pulls back to turn away. She swallows hard and shakes her head as if to shake her attraction to him off. You’re supposed to hate him, he forced this union on you, she reminds herself while she turns her own body away and pulls her cardigan off to drape over the bed for now. She can’t help glancing his way again as she pulls off her heels though, just as he unbuttons some of his shirt. Unfortunately for her, he’s just as muscular as he looks. She has the desire to groan in in frustration. Why couldn’t he be an unattractive asshole that would be easy to despise? Instead he’s a fucking god looking man who has the potential to be an asshole. Ana is too busy staring to realize what he’s doing for a moment, until he’s speaking. Perfectly arched eyebrows raise in surprise. He’s going to sleep on the couch? And here she expected him to force her into consummating their marriage right here right now. Relief fills her, mentally and physically exhausted after the challenging day. All she does is nod, not able to bring herself to thank him. She may have melted under his touch, but she is still angry with him for marrying her and bringing her to a mysterious place.

She moves into the closet to find something to sleep in considering it’s not her own wardrobe. She would have preferred a baggy t shirt and some cotton shorts, not wanting to appear sexy and make him have a change of heart about giving her the bed tonight. But the closest thing she finds is a matching short and camisole set. It’s either that or a sexier nightgown, so she settles on the color black once more and moves into the bathroom to change. She finds herself able to think with a clear head again the moment the door is shut behind her. Taking her time changing into the sleepwear, she comes up with a way of getting some answers out of him. She can’t escape this place without knowing where they are. And she also can’t keep letting his touch get to her. Dante is bound to be a master of manipulation and these intimate moments could easily be part of that. With her clothing changed, Anastasia steps up to the sink to look at herself. The idea of removing her makeup and letting him see her raw and real feels too personal too fast, but she’s also one of those girls who refuses to go to sleep with makeup on. Maybe he’ll think she’s less desirable and not want her anymore... One can hope. Slowly, she begins the process of removing it all. Everything she does is slow, continuing to feed that need to drive him crazy with impatience.

Once her teeth are brushed and her hair is let loose from her bun, she finally steps back out into the bedroom. And this time she back to the woman he first met. “Alright. I want to know where we are and just what your plans are for me.” The words are out of her mouth before he can even blink. “You can’t just keep me locked up in your house.” She says this part with confidence as if he would never even consider it. Because who does that? The guy who made you marry him, that's who probably, her brain dryly reminds her. “And I also don’t see why I can’t have my own bedroom if you’re going to give me the bed anyway.” Anastasia knows she should quit while she’s ahead, but that’s not in her nature. When she’s done with her demands, her arms cross over her chest and she cocks a hip in an attempt to stand her ground. This gives Dante a good look at her in her pajamas. The black silk of the shorts hug her curvy hips and rear, the lace trimmed hem in a high cut on each outer thigh to show off more than enough leg. The matching camisole is looser, but her bare breasts are obvious beneath, especially with her arms shoving up her cleavage. Her face is completely bare, but no less stunning with her pouty lips and warm chocolate eyes. She’s entirely vulnerable, yet facing off with him without fear in her effort to gain some control.

 

[jack7654]

The waiting game had begun once again. It seemed like this was Anastasia’s most favoured game. She had been practically browsing through the wardrobe for clothing since forever. The moment she did, though, she decided to take another eternity to get changed. Dante really was getting impatient, sitting on the couch and waiting for her. Even he needed to get changed, but it looked like she barely understood that. However, he was a man of patience and was never too deterred by waiting. The wait, however, seemed entirely worthwhile because the moment she stepped out, she seemed like the most beautiful sight Dante ever laid eyes on. In fact, for a few moments, he was simply speechless.

“You are beautiful with or without any make-up,” he told her, blurting it out naturally rather than any will of action that could have prompted such a response. He needed to control himself. He was just being driven by instinct and desire rather than reason around her. Why was she so desirable that he found it so hard to maintain composure around her? Then, before he could add anything, she started her rapid fire questioning. He sat there patiently, waiting until she was done with all her questions and then, wordlessly, he got up and started to walk towards the bathroom. “I will freshen up a little first and then we can answer any qualms you may have, Mrs. Bianchi,” Dante said and simply grabbed some clothes, making his way to the bathroom.

It was a long shower indeed as do usual thought inducing showers go, his mind going to several places at once, most of them leading to Anastasia and his rather unimpeded desire for her. He really tried to convince himself to think rationally and control he desire. In fact, even the shower he took was in cold water so as to let that chilly water pour over his cock, calming down the heat and desire which had made it rise up at the very touch of this woman. How could she have such power over him? He has always been the person in power ever since he was a boy. Never did he feel so helpless under the pressure of a need so intense.

As he emerged from the bathroom, clouded by this dilemma, Dante was clad in a rather deviant outfit. A pair of pajamas covered his lower half. The upper half, however, was left quite open, allowing her to get a good view of his rather muscular torso; his chest bulging with well built pectorals along with rock hard abdominals. The hair that was visible when he unbuttoned his shirt was spread sparsely across his chest, but the region of his abdomen was almost entirely hairless. He stood there before her now, arms folded. “I guess it is about time I answer all your questions,” he said with a sigh. “Please have a seat.” He pointed to the chair in front the couch while he himself sat down on the couch, gazing at her.

“Firstly,” he began, “we are nowhere near Chicago or New York. We are on my private island in the Indian Ocean. I am telling you this because if you were planning an escape, which I know you must be, I must tell you it is futile because there is no airport on this island. It is almost entirely forest outside this manor with a host of predators and other animals. You will get yourself killed if you go out on foot rather than a car. Not only that, the nearest land with civilization is Madagascar and even that is more than a 100 miles away. No matter how fit you must be, I am sure you can’t swim that much. So, the idea of escaping is out of the question. Why here, you might ask? Well, firstly, this is my vacation spot. I come here whenever I wish to relieve myself of work and it seemed like the best place for us to go before your father makes the news of our marriage official to everyone.”

He moved his hand across his hair which, unlike its earlier well combed straight form, was now falling slightly across his forehead. “I do not intend to lock you up. It is a necessity. Most of my rivals were planning the same deal your father and I had. And now that we are married, you would be a primary target for my enemies to gain leverage. That is why we are in hiding. Nobody knows about this place. There isn’t any phone network either to track us. We might need to be here for the time being until matters cool down and it is safe for you to return with me to Chicago. After that, we will officially be married.”

Finally, Dante stood up and made his way towards Anastasia, bending down to his knees so that their eyes would level and meet. “I think it is obvious why you cannot have your own bedroom. My men obey me because they fear me, because they look up to me. I have an image they follow, which I can’t allow being tarnished. That is why, we must share the room. They mustn’t ever see me bending myself to your will. I must not appear weak or vulnerable at any cost.”

It was then that Dante finally added, “You have my word that you shall never have want for anything. Whatever you desire shall be yours. You must just agree to continue and accept this marriage and without any compulsion to consummate it.” And yet…Dante wished. He wished so desperately that she did want it. Sitting at this vantage point in front of her, his eyes went to her breasts, now much more evident in this dress, those beautiful…beautiful legs and what’s between them.

“However…” Dante added and paused. He wanted to tell her that after he met her, the business decision and alliance wasn’t just what he intended it to be anymore. He wanted more…He wanted their relation to be a more intimate and meaningful one But how does one say it? It was always so easy for Dante to express anger, strength, domination, but to express anything softer was hard as nails for him. He tried, “I…” but failed. Finally, it came to him that he should do what he does best: speak more through actions and less through words.

What happened next happened in the blink of an eye. Dante, almost instantaneously leaned in, his hands rising up to cup Anastasia’s face in his strong and big hands. He could feel the warmth of her cheeks, her face in them. He knew that she could probably feel the warmth of his hands as well when he held her. Before a word could escape her lips, Dante was close enough to stop it and even before he could pull away, like he did last time, Dante assaulted the hesitancy, within him, by a sheer force of will and found his lips pressed against hers. They were so soft…so warm…so wet. He felt he could keep them pressed against hers evermore and yet never feel the slightest hint of monotony. In fact, he found his lips now moving against hers on their own, his passion, his desire, his need for Anastasia simply beyond his own control. He hoped…He simply hoped that she would not push him off. That she would want him, she would want to kiss him back, hold him against her, want him to make love to her, and he would, over and over.

 

[SassyKisses]

His bride is briefly startled by the sudden compliment to her raw appearance, but she shakes it off in order to get her questions out. Her brows knit together in confusion when all he does is stand and move toward the bathroom. Is he going to ignore her? Thankfully he speaks and agrees to answer when he returns. Satisfied for now, Anastasia spends the time waiting eyeing the bed again. One day she’ll have to share it with him, she knows that. And it won’t be just sleeping. Mafia men need heirs, that usually being the reason they marry. Nerves knot in her stomach at the thought. Would he force her if she pretends to not be ready for months? Or years? She doesn’t know Dante, so she can’t answer that question. Not knowing him beyond his job is starting to irritate her more and more. Especially since he knows so much more about her from clearly doing his homework. She can’t even look him up on the internet without her phone that has been taken from her. In a place she doesn’t know and married to a man she doesn’t know… If she didn’t need to stay strong to figure her way out of all of this, she might be panicking.

She’s standing at the dark window lost in thought when he finally walks out of the bathroom. Slowly, her head turns to him and her cheeks instantly heat from what he’s wearing. Sure, he’s clothed. But the front of his sleep shirt hangs open to reveal every detail of his upper body. Again the question of him being sculpted from marble rises in her mind. It would be a lot easier to be indifferent towards him if he weren’t so attractive. Her eyes can’t help admiring every revealed inch. His pants hang low enough on his hips to see the v etched there and she has to refrain from biting her lip as her gaze briefly falls to his covered crotch. Thankfully he speaks and snaps her out of it, averting her eyes and moving to the chair as directed. Her smooth tan legs cross in her silk shorts, hands in her lap as she lets herself look over his breathtaking body again on her way up to meet his waiting gaze.

In one sentence, all of her hope evaporates. She has absolutely no chance of escape. Ana had considered all the people in the house to be a big obstacle, but add a forest full of god knows what and a hundred miles of ocean and it’s impossible. It clearly angers her a bit from the way her posture stiffens and her jaw clenches. When he explains why they are on his island, she nearly scoffs. Best place to get to know each other? It seems like it’s the best place to keep her from trying to leave him. Somehow she manages to keep herself in check purely for the need to know more. Her eyes briefly lift to follow his hand through his drying hair and it annoys her that she wants to run her own fingers through it. She likes the more unruly look on him, thinking it makes him look less like he has a stick up his ass. The moment he brings up her father making the same deal he did with other rivals, her eyes are back on his and filled with surprise. Was she in a go to the highest bidder situation? Suddenly her anger isn’t just directed at Dante, but her dad as well for marrying her off in the first place. She silently curses being born into the mafia. Marriage and seclusion, that’s her future right now. Her eyes drop to her lap, her hands having turned into fists without realizing it. “Can’t wait.” The taunting words are a whisper after he mentions them officially getting married in Chicago when it’s safe.

She keeps her eyes down until she hears him standing and moving toward her. His closeness makes her unable to stop herself from looking up. His response to her proposition of her own bedroom is more angering, narrowing her eyes at him. “So your men need to think you’re forcing me to share you bed in order to respect you?” Anastasia challenges, but she listens as he continues. A bitter smile touches her mouth while he promises to give her her every desire. Except the only thing she desires is her freedom, the one thing he can’t give her. Relief does fill her at his reassurance of not forcing her to consummate their marriage, but she still feels trapped and she hates feeling trapped. His struggle with his next words is intriguing, not expecting the mafia Don to struggle to say anything. Just as her lips part to question just what he is trying to say, he is leaning in and taking her face between his hands. Wide, surprised brown eyes meet his. She knows what he’s going to do before he does it. Yet she doesn’t tell him to stop in the time it takes his lips to press against hers. One of her hands does come up between them to rest on his chest, but one feel of how muscular he is and the steady beat of his heart and she can’t bring herself to push him away. Instead her lips meet his in the kiss as if she’s starving for him. She knows she shouldn’t be doing this, that she shouldn’t be touching him in any capacity. Something about his touch makes her mind go blank and her body just melt. It’s dangerous. More dangerous than what he does for a living in her opinion. Her other hand comes up to cup his jaw as they kiss like two lovers. The young woman may have been sheltered from guys her whole life to keep her pure for her future husband, but that doesn’t mean she’s never kissed anyone. However, no one has kissed her the way Dante is kissing her, both tender and firm. Her tongue even sweeps into his mouth to taste him tentatively. One kiss. One moment of weakness. She decides to allow it. After this, there will be a strict no touching policy she decides. But from the way her body leans up into him would tell him all he needs to know, Anastasia Bianchi wants more than just her freedom. She wants the man who she is now married too.

After several moments of enjoying his lips, she finally finds the strength to pull away. Her breathing is a little heavier and her eyes have darkened with uncontrollable arousal. She stares at him silently at first, unable to find words. The hand on his jaw slides off and lifts to her own face, pressing her fingers against her lips as if needing to feel them to make sure the kiss was real. Anastasia swallows hard. “Y-You shouldn’t have done that…” She practically whispers, her body having told a different story seconds ago. “I’m not yours.” This sentence is said more firmly, hoping her continuing to deny their relationship will get him angry. She figures if he’s angry he won’t be touching or kissing her, which is what she needs to fuel her own rage and desire to get off this island. Her gaze avoids his, feeling the heat in her cheeks and knowing her eyes will reveal how she really feels. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. The swear repeats over and over in her head. “And you will not kiss me again.” She forces it out as a demand, again trying to poke the bear and bury whatever just happened between them. Now she just needs to get to the bed to put a little distance between them. But she can’t seem to force herself to stand, still feeling his distracting heat radiate off of his body with how close he is. The only way to stay strong is to remain still and let him move away from her first.

 

[jack7654]

For the first time in his life, Dante felt fear. It was a fear that entirely tugged at him. He was worried that Anastasia would push him off, call him a perverse violator, who kissed her against her desire and consent. In fact, he never had and never would kiss a woman as abruptly as he did just now. But there was something about Anastasia…Something that so irresistible that just relentlessly tugged at him that Dante was simply smitten. He couldn’t hold back the need, the desire to have her and found himself pressing his lips against Anastasia’s, much against his own volition. His expectations were indeed the worst. Yet, like often it is the case with situations, what Dante received was entirely unexpected. He felt Anastasia respond…And she responded positively.

He felt those soft lips move against his, slowly, into a kiss that was deep and passionate. For a moment, Dante almost paused, not able to fathom whether this was really happening. But the moment he knew that Anastasia wanted him, just the way he did, Dante simply couldn’t hold back the need for her any longer. He felt the touch of her soft hand on his hard, muscular chest, moving across it. It was so warm and the way it felt upon him, it simply made Dante so aroused that he could not describe it. It was like her very touch set him ablaze with need and desire. The way she touched him, the way she kissed him, it felt like she was starving for him, hungrily having him. Then that hand on his face…the tender touch. Dante did not want this moment, this feeling to ever end. It was like it was all he ever desired and found their lips melding into one. This kiss had made everything a complete blur. The whole world seemed to evaporate and all he felt, as his eyes closed, was the feeling of those lips, so warm, so soft, and yet so wet.

Then, instead of it being him to take the next step, it was Anastasia, surprisingly, who did. He felt something much more damp and soft against his lips. It did not even take Dante a second to realise that he was feeling her tongue against his lips and, within a moment, he found his lips parting to allow her tongue into his mouth. The very touch of their tongues made Dante let out a soft moan of pleasure as he began to poke, prod, and play with her tongue, both playing a dirty dance of pleasure in their mouths before Dante felt something he wished he didn’t feel. He felt her touch slackening, at once, both from his chest and his face. He wanted to grab her and pull her, stop her from moving away. Why was she pulling away when she so clearly desired him? He even felt her lips parting from his. Even as she moved away, Dante could see a small string of saliva still keeping their lips connected as if suggesting that their lips must not and should not part.

For a moment, as she spoke, Dante visibly frowned. Did she really…? But that is when he gazed into her eyes and saw the hesitancy there. That is when he saw her moving her fingers to her lips and touching them, almost trying to relive and reminisce the magic of the moment she just felt and denying her desire simply out of pride. The moment he heard Anastasia speak the words “You shouldn’t have done that” or “I am not yours” Dante beamed with pride, gazing at her, straight into her eyes with a charming half smile. He paused for a moment there, sitting in front of her on his knees and gazed into her eyes till she could catch her breath.

“Oh but you’re wrong,” he finally said, running his fingers through his hair. “Actions speak louder than words and your actions already spoke your desires.” To know that she wanted him just as much as he did her was all that Dante needed. Now, from the ashes of his hesitancy emerged a phoenix of self-assurance and Dante knew that his desire was not unrequited. His hand reached forward and he grabbed a tuft of Anastasia’s hair at the back of her head. His grip was very strong and he held it tight, just enough for her to feel the tug, but not any pain. He leaned in close, his lips not touching hers, but their noses grazing, his eyes meeting hers. “You are already mine, Anastasia,” he said, breathing heavy, his eyes so close and gazing down into her eyes as if he was seeing her very soul. He did not blink, nor did he allow his eyes to wander, they were fixated on her eyes as he said, “You are mine. And only mine. And always will be.” He pressed his lips against hers once again, this time it was his tongue that made the move, first tasting her lips, then entering her mouth to play with her tongue, moving against it, as if claiming her mouth as his territory, her tongue his play thing before finally taking a soft bit at her lower lip, which Dante tugged before finally letting go.

Releasing her from his grip, Dante said, “Don’t worry. I won’t ever force you into anything.” Then, he slowly leaned in close to her ear and rather erotically whispered in it, “But that doesn’t mean I am not going to tempt you. I will tempt you and seduce you over and over until I push you over the edge. I will push you to the point where you are begging me to fuck you. And that you will very soon....” Just as he finished whispering in her ear, he pressed his lips against her ear, placing a soft kiss there before getting up and turning around. He made his way to the couch and lay down on it, turning towards her as he smiled. It was a devious smile: the smile of a man who knew what he wanted and how he would get it. A smile given by a man to a woman he knew wanted him and he wanted her, a smile that said that she was his and he was hers.

 

[SassyKisses]

Brown eyes flick up to his face the moment she manages to free herself and he frowns at her, preparing for anger. But it doesn’t come. No, instead Dante is smiling at her and sticking her with that piercing gaze of his. The smile makes her want to slap it off his face. It is not the reaction she was hoping for. Then he’s speaking... words she doesn’t want to hear. Anastasia starts to shake her head, to open her mouth and deny the words they both know are true. His hand wrapping around her hair stops her though, forcing her chin up to hold his gaze and keeping her where she is. She tries to squirm slightly when he tells her she is his, but the slight pain from his grip makes her go still again. Even his gaze tells her she belongs to him. She tries to keep her eyes hardened with anger, she really does, but between his captivating eyes and his alluring scent.... it’s impossible. She wants him. She wants to be his.

“You are mine. And only mine. And always will be.”

His lips crash to hers and Anastasia doesn’t hesitate in meeting it as her eyes close. He claims her within the kiss, his tongue tasting her and stealing her breath. And she’s too weak to resist. His touch makes her lose all of her sense. A small whimper escapes as his teeth tug at her bottom lip, lashes fluttering before her eyes drag open to reveal the need in them. She almost wants to protest as Dante pulls back, only just managing to be quiet. She is relieved to hear he won’t force her to do anything, not sure she’d be able to handle that kind of marriage. He doesn’t just leave it at that though, leaning in and dropping his voice to the sexiest tone she’s ever heard. It goes straight to her core.

“I will push you to the point where you are begging me to fuck you.”

Her breath hitches. Fuck. If she wasn’t already wet from his kisses, she is now. Her thighs clench and unclench, praying he doesn’t notice the small movement. The coloring of her cheeks is a lost battle unfortunately. Anastasia wants to tell him he is wrong. That she will never beg him. Yet the words won’t leave her lips. All she can do is watch him stand and move to settle down on the couch. His smile reminds him of a cat before it kills. Thankfully his smugness irritates her enough to push herself up and go to the bed, ignoring him entirely. Get your shit together, Ana. He’s not a good man. You can’t let him get to you like this. You’re just sexually frustrated, that’s it. She tells herself as she slides under the covers and tries to pretend there isn’t a hot mafia boss on the couch mere feet from her. It takes several minutes of tossing and turning to get comfortable in the giant bed. And even then she cannot sleep. Her mind is traveling a mile a minute from the events of the day. Not to mention the heat between her legs. She replays his kisses in her head. That moan he let out when she slid her tongue into his mouth... it was far too arousing. And the way his muscles felt under her hand makes her want to see and feel every single inch of him. The desire to scream in frustration takes over, but she doesn’t let it out. It’s bad enough that her new husband now knows she’s attracted to him. It’s another hour of restlessness before she manages to fall asleep.

Anastasia wakes up to sunshine slipping through a crack in the curtains. She has no idea what time it is without her phone and no sign of a clock in the room. With a big stretch and a yawn, the memories of last night come flooding back to her. Kissing him, wanting him, being told she is his, being told she will begged to be fucked by him... With a groan she rolls over and buries her face in the pillow. How did her life become this complicated? “Fucking family.” She mutters to herself and then freezes when she remembers Dante is on the couch at the foot of the bed. She doesn’t dare try to see if he is actually still there, carefully slipping out of bed to walk quietly to the bathroom. She locks the door behind her, needing a shower and not wanting to find out if he would just walk in on her. She uses the toilet and then takes the fastest shower she can manage, wrapping herself up in a towel to move to the sink with her waiting hair products. After using a couple of them, she leaves it to air dry and sets to brushing her teeth. Makeup comes next, settling on a little tinted moisturizer, mascara, and lip tint. It’s simple, but makes her feel stronger. She glances down at the discarded pajamas on the floor, deciding if she should change back into them to get to the closet or stay in the towel. She presses her cheek to the door to listen for any signs of Dante being awake and when she hears nothing, she steps out in just the towel.

The bed makes her unable to see the couch from the bathroom door, so she glances around the room before walking quickly and softly into the closet. He had said they were somewhere in the Indian Ocean, so she imagines it will be on the warm side outside. The closet is mostly dresses, but she does find a few pairs of jeans and some t-shirts. Picking one of each, she moves to the drawers to find some underwear. Again, picking the most simple set in there. The panties are white and lacy, slipping them on under the towel. She keeps her back to the door just in case while dropping the towel and putting on the matching lacy white bra. Her smooth olive skin works especially nicely with the white undergarments and for a few moments, her body is on almost full display. She’s toned from regular workouts her whole life, with curvy hips and ample breasts that threaten to spill out of the bra as she leans over to tug on the jeans. The high waisted skinny jeans hug every single curve she has, so well that Ana wonders just how he got her exact measurements. A white v-neck t-shirt follows, tucking it into the waistband. With her casual look on, she decides to remain barefoot for now, figuring they’ll have breakfast before she gets to explore the island and hopefully figure out a way off of it. The woman finds herself not wanting to leave the closet and face Dante after last night. Maybe she’ll get lucky and he’ll have already left to do some work while she was in the bathroom earlier. Instead of going out to check, she stays frozen in the middle of the closet, her side to the doorway. She finds herself getting lost in thought. She imagines he’ll have work to attend to during the day, counting on being let out to explore alone or with a bodyguard that will be a lot easier to trick. Would they still be willing to manhandle her after his threat to the staff last night? And what if he tries to kiss her again this morning? She’s too weak to resist and she knows it. Question after question runs through her mind, all involving the very man she’s too scared to step out and face right now.

 

[jack7654]

Dante was always in the habit of waking up at 4:00 am everyday and performing his workout and combat training for the next two hours. He had to keep both his body and skills as sharp as a razor’s edge for any untoward situation he may find himself in. Therefore, after his regular routine of lifting weights and honing his skills in his rather favourite Jeet Kune Do form of martial arts, Dante had returned to his room, still having found Anastasia in bed. She was probably still under the influence of the drugs or maybe overwhelmed by the events of the previous day to wake up early. Either way, a good shower was definitely in order after his workout session, which he promptly undertook.

After the refreshing shower, and having noticed Anastasia still asleep, he fished for his clothes in the wardrobe. Since he had planned a trip into the island with Anastasia today, he found a rather comfortable T-shirt and jeans, letting the towel drop to the floor, revealing his massive chest, covered with sparse black hair, muscular and almost chiseled. He had washboard abs below it along with thick meaty thighs and thick horse-like calves. His arms had rather protruding biceps and massive balls of muscles for shoulders. What wasn’t evident in the full sleeves shirt he usually wore, now become rather prominent. His entire back was covered by a massive dragon tattoo. There was also the tattoo of a lion on one arm and that of an eagle on the other.

Sadly, Anastasia was still asleep even as he put on clothes, which immediately hid all his tattoos again. He had half hoped she would wake up and catch him naked and just go crazy with lust. But, that was just hoping too much. Then, to enjoy the view of the rising sun, he went out into the balcony attached to the room. The morning sun was a magnificent orange and he noticed Anastasia stir as its light fell upon her face. Grabbing the remote, he clicked a button and the windows of the balcony turned one sided stopping light from going into the room, but allowing light from the room to come out. Therefore, while she could no longer see him, he could still see her.

This action, however, led to a great deal of pleasure for Dante for he stood in the balcony watching her get up and enter the bathroom. Fortunately, she had not changed in the bathroom, but decided to come out and do it. He stood there, watching in delight. He could not see her frontal portion as she was facing the other side, but the very sight of that curvaceous back, that beautiful bottom…Gosh! Did he just want to go in and grab it! He just wanted to spank it so hard. In fact, just watching her made him unconsciously reach down, unzip his pants and reach in to grab his cock, slowly moving it back and forth to jerk it. His cock growing harder and harder the more he looked at her. Sadly, though, she had already put on clothes by now and the pleasure was short lived.

Quietly he opened the long French windows of the balcony and moved in behind her. Leaning in close to her ear, he whispered, “Anastasia…” He paused, waiting, for he knew she would recognise that whisper. “Did I mention that from behind you are the hottest woman I ever saw? I can only imagine how gorgeous you are from the front.” Even as he said this, Dante wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her viciously against him. Leaning in close to her neck, he kissed along the smooth warm surface of her skin, his soft lips pressing against the curve of her neck and kept going down; kiss after kiss till he reached her shoulder. Meanwhile, Dante’s hands, already wrapped around her waist, began to move along it, slowly sliding across her side and very stealthily moving up inside her top, now feeling the bare skin of her slim waist, feeling it as he kissed her neck. He even let his finger carefully circle around her navel and these actions aroused Dante so much that he found himself getting hard….very hard. And even though there was a the thick fabric of his sorts and jeans as well as the cloth of her top, Anastasia could probably feel his thick cock growing harder against her back, feeling it as it grazed against her lower back. “I so want you…” he added. “Can’t wait for the day I get to have you…” At this, he finally released her, but not before taking a soft bite along the curve of her neck, leaving a mark on it. It was a mark of his claim, his right on her…the mark that made it evident that she was his.

He then walked up to the door of the room and said, “I want to show you around the island today. It will be a good trip. More like a safari. So, come along.” He took her by the hand, this time lacing their fingers immediately, without any hesitation as they made their way down the stairs and out of the massive doors of the mansion. One of the guards, a very burlesque man with a thick handlebar moustache came running in. “Sir,” he said, standing before Dante. “Bruno has been prancing all morning.”

Releasing Anastasia’s hand, Dante looked in the direction of the guard. “I completely forgot about Bruno. I should to go meet him.” He turned to Anastasia and said, “Come along. Meet Bruno.” That is when he walked further ahead within the beautiful garden that was the premise of the mansion to one very grassy region. The Guard handed him a very thick piece of meat and Dante, placing his forefinger and thumb into his mouth, whistled a very loud and very shrill wolf whistle. “Come on, Bruno!” he shouted and out from the other end of the grassy region came a massive beast. It had a thick brown mane and tough muscular limbs. It came bounding forward with a roar that only a lion could make, which it was. He pounced at the meat and tried to snatch it from Dante’s hand, but Dante lifted it, not allowing the lion to grab it. “Behave!” he ordered, raising his finger before the monster and the lion calmed down after which he fed the lion with his own hands while caressing its mane and face with the other hand. The lion seemed to enjoy it, nuzzling into Dante’s touch. It was then that he turned to Anastasia and said. “Come on, you can touch him. He’s my pet. He won’t bite.”

 

[SassyKisses]

She is so lost in her thoughts that she doesn’t hear him enter the room from the balcony and step up behind her until he whispers her name in her ear. Anastasia jumps in surprise, her hands going to her chest to calm her suddenly racing heart. He’s a big guy and she never expected him to be able to step so quietly. Then he’s commenting on how hot she is from behind and her shock fades to anger. He was watching her change? She’s just about to whirl on him with a piece of her mind when his muscular arms circle her waist and pull her back into him hard. Her hands go to his arms to attempt to push them off at first until his lips make contact with her neck. It makes her instantly want to relax, but she forces herself to stay tense even as her fingers switch from pushing to holding. Her eyes shut as she tries to focus and not succumb to the pleasure that is his touch. His hands sliding beneath her shirt make her shiver and his lips leave a blazing trail of need behind. She manages to stay silent until she feels that hard, and obviously large, cock against her lower back. The softest of whimpers slips out, trying to cover it by turning her face into the shoulder his mouth isn’t on. Her eyes squeeze shut tighter as if to block all of him out. It’s impossible though, especially when he sinks his teeth into her skin. A loud gasp escapes and her eyes open wide in shock.

One of her hands goes up to feel where Dante bit her when he releases her. She doesn’t know that he’s left a mark yet, something for her to discover and yell at him about later. Ana hates how much her body responds to him, wanting to hate him with every fiber of her being. But it’s hard when he looks like a god and has one of the sexiest voices she’s ever heard. With her now facing him, she gets a good look at him in his casual clothing. The t-shirt reveals just how muscular his arms actually are and the fabric clings nicely to the rest of his sculpted form. Her eyes briefly fall down to the front of his jeans, wondering if he really is as big as he felt against her rear... Luckily, she’s brought back to reality as he informs her that he’ll be showing her around the island. So much for having a chance to escape… Anastasia reluctantly follows, mostly due to his hand taking hers. Her gaze looks around the hallway and walls in the daylight as they walk, trying to get a feel for her new home even as they leave it to step outside. It’s warm just like she imagined it would be, squinting from the bright sun while the guard speaks to Dante. Dark brows furrow in curiosity at the mention of a Bruno. Who is that? She doesn’t ask, going for the silent treatment with her new husband to hopefully get him to leave her alone. Clearly he doesn’t need her to ask though, simply expecting her to follow along and meet this Bruno. Which she does, because with Dante in front and the guard behind them, there is really no other choice.

She’s not sure what she expects, but it certainly isn’t anything that happens in the next five minutes. First, Dante is handed a piece of raw meat. That alone makes an eyebrow raise in question and her teeth to start chewing on her bottom lip out of anxious habit. Then he’s whistling and out of the grass comes a huge creature running straight for them. She’s quite sure she’s hallucinating, because it looks and sounds like a lion… but nobody has a lion… right? But as it gets closer and closer, it’s evidently quite real. Anastasia can’t help being nervous and she even side steps to be fully behind Dante, letting his massive frame shield her just in case the animal decides to attack them. Instead, the mafia boss treats it as if it were a puppy, scolding it for pouncing and then feeding and petting it. It’s hard not to look entirely shocked.

“Come on, you can touch him. He’s my pet. He won’t bite.”

Wide brown eyes rip away from the lion to meet his. This is his pet? Who the fuck has a lion for a pet? She wants to ask it out loud, but can’t find the words. She simply stands frozen, glancing between him and Bruno as if deciding who is more of a threat to her. Ultimately, the lion wins the less threatening award and she steps toward it slowly. Her hand is a bit shaky as she extends it to him to sniff before carefully stroking the side of his face. Anastasia gets more confident when he leans into her touch just like he did with Dante, a small smile forming on her lips. It’s one of the first time’s he would see her look genuinely relaxed in his presence, even if it only lasts a few moments. Okay, so this is pretty cool, she has to admit. But that doesn’t change the fact that she didn’t choose to be here. She also imagines that Bruno is another obstacle she would need to get by should she try to make a run for it. At that thought, she lets herself step away from him again. Her hope of finding her way back to Chicago and her normal life is only getting more crushed the more time she spends on this island.

“He’s very cool. And beautiful.” Anastasia forces herself to start off with, wanting to show respect for the animal. “But I think I’d like to go back to my room now… maybe we can do the tour another day…” Her voice gets weaker as she speaks despite her best efforts to appear strong. Her bare feet start to take one step back toward the house at a time. Maybe if she refuses to leave the house or her room, she refuses to refer to it as theirs, he’ll grow tired of her and send her back… maybe she can pretend to be sick or something… It’s an attempt motivated by panic. Panic over the fact that she’s attracted to to the powerful man that she’s been signed over to. Panic over the fact that she’s on an island in the middle of the ocean surrounded by guards, a lion, and who knows what else. And panic over the fact that she has no control. Sure, she belonged to her father back home, but he was pretty lenient and let her be far more independent than most mafia daughters. Dante has completely stripped her of the right to choose, something she’s always considered sacred. She’s still moving backwards with her front facing him, not waiting for him to reply.

 

[jack7654]

Dante grinned visibly when Anastasia decided to come forward. She even had the courage to touch and caress Bruno. Normally, Bruno would be a terrifying sight to any person, but Anastasia did seem to inherit the blood of the mafia. But then, that was obvious from the rather evident defiance she displayed before Dante. Any other ordinary woman would keel over in fear and submission to her situation. However, from the way her eyes seemed, she was still pondering escape, defiant to the very end, even though this defiance was against her own attraction towards him. Somehow, Dante found her and this very defiance very attractive and arousing. In fact, he had a hard time even controlling his arousal around her. She really did have an inexplicable effect on him.

A frown coursed through Dante’s rather evident Italian physiognomy when he saw Anastasia backing up and wanting to return to the mansion on the pretext of being indisposed. It was rather evident that she was only using it as an excuse to avoid the tour with him or hatch an escape plan of some kind. But then, he saw something behind Anastasia as she was backing up and grinned joyously, his mind instantly taken off the irk that he felt at her rejection. “This is a pleasant surprise,” Dante said, his smile almost going from m ear to ear. And that was when Anastasia was stopped in her tracks because she felt something large against her back: something very large, very sinewy and very furry.

“Hera?” Dante said with a smile. “You’re usually sleeping during the day. How are you up early like this, little girl?” He was talking to the thing behind Anastasia, against which she had just collided. The brilliant orange fur, the deep black stripes and the sheer physical girth, much larger than even Bruno, made it evident that Hera was a tiger. However, unlike Bruno, Hera wasn’t nearly as friendly for at the sight of Anastasia, she bore her teeth, the fangs sharp stakes and menacing, she growled and leered at the woman less than half her size.

If Dante hadn’t stepped up and intervened, she would most surely have attacked Anastasia and shredded her to pieces. He offered the tigress some meat and instantly the beast melted to the man’s touch. “You have to be careful around Hera,” Dante said, turning to Anastasia as he was caressing the tigress’s face. “She isn’t very friendly like Bruno. Tigers are solitary creatures and very territorial. But, she is very nice once she gets to know you enough. You will like her.” He grinned at those words. Of course she would like Hera. Anastasia wasn’t much different either: territorial, fierce, and beautiful.

He then moved in closer and whispered so that only Anastasia could hear what he said next, “I already told you earlier, you can’t say ‘no’ when my men are around.” Then, pulling back, Dante gazed at Anastasia and replied, “I’m sure you’re feeling fine now, my dear, and are ready for that tour considering that Hera lifted your spirits.” He then held her hand in his and slowly moved it towards Hera’s face. The tigress leered, almost about to bite, but only opened her mouth to give it a lick, leaving a trail of small scratches across it. Dante stared angrily at Hera and said, “How many times have I told you about licking, Hera? That sharp tongue of yours just leaves scratches.” With this, the dejected tigress took the piece of meat from Dante’s hand and walked away to eat alone in a corner. He gazed at Anastasia’s hand and the scratches across it. “Don’t worry. She is always careful not to lick too hard. That sandpaper tongue of her’s could otherwise leave you bleeding if she really intended to. And besides….” He paused, leaning in close to her ear and whispering in his erotic voice, “Considering all the things I wanna do with you…you will have a lot more scratches and marks on you than this.”

Dante did not ask for permission or whether she was even feeling well. He knew Anastasia was avoiding this tour with him and he simply wasn’t going to accept her refusal. Therefore, he just held her hand and walked with her to the edge of the premises. “I asked the guards to stay at the mansion and only you and I will be going alone,” he said. However, while, the dirt roads led out of the mansion, there was no car in sight. With a finger and thumb in his mouth, Dante let out a very loud and very sharp wolf whistle and out cam galloping a massive black stallion. It was a deep jet black all over. The only striking feature was a small diamond formed by white hairs on its forehead. Just as it stood in front of Dante, it dwarfed the tall man, its head a good deal over seven feet, strong muscular limbs and a long mane of elegant black hair.

“Good boy, Agro,” Dante said, caressing the stallion’s face that began to nuzzle into his hand. He pulled out a small apple from the bag upon the saddle of the horse and slowly moved it close to Agro’s mouth, who hungrily moved his face forward and began to nibble and finally finish the apple. It was then that Dante, with one foot upon the stirrup, easily climbed upon Agro. Leaning down, his hand reaching for Anastasia’s he pulled the smaller woman up, helping and guiding her onto the horse. However, unlike an ordinary horse ride, where the second person sits behind, holding on the rider, he, instead, made Anastasia sit in front, his chest pressing onto her back, acting like a cushion for her to rest on, while his arms wrapped around her in a rather intimate embrace and holding the reins in his hand ahead. Giving the reins a tug, Dante said, “Come on, Agro,” and the horse began to move. It was only cantering at first, but slowly began to move at a swifter pace. Every chance he got, Dante, using the reins as an excuse, allowed his hands to wander. When he pulled the reins, he pulled enough to let his hands touch her breast, when they were steady, they were often around her navel and often, he let them wander around her thighs and even between them. Just being so close to her was arousing him rather unbearably and he knew she could probably feel his hardening cock against her ass. It did not help that the horse’s uneven movement was only making his hard cock grind against her. Finally, unable to hold in his need any longer, he leaned in close to her ear and whispered in her ear in the same erotic voice, “You know, Anastasia, I have never wanted anyone as much as I want you.” Even as he said this they were now away from the mansion and entered the lush green rainforest of the island, covered in a thick canopy of trees, greenery and untainted nature.