Maid for the Mafia
Number Two

**ROMANY**

I finish the wine in my glass as Damien waltzes into the dining room. Surprisingly enough, he's clean. No blood on his clothes, no crazy knives where I can see them. Nothing but a seductive smirk on his face as he takes in what I'm wearing. "Nice choice," he says huskily, scooting his chair a little closer to mine.

I meet Simone's eyes across the table nodding as she gets up and begins collecting the dishes.

"Leave it," Damien says, his gaze wary as he watches me. "I'll take care of it."

"Goodnight Simone," I rasp, happy the food and wine seem to have granted me the ability to whisper.

"Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning," Simone says, hugging me before she throws Damien the evil eye on her way out the door.

"What's that about?" Damien asks, his eyebrows drawn in curiously. "Didn't I give her the evening off? What the hell is her problem?"

"She's my friend," I whisper, clearing my throat. "Her mood reflects my mood."

"Uh-huh," Damien comments, falling back against his chair as he eyes the two empty wine bottles on the table. "Did you drink all that, baby?"

"So what if I did? I deserve a little buzz with all the bullshit I put up with," I snark. Standing up and wobbling toward the couch, I do my best to keep my chin held high, but still, I fall onto the damn thing, laughing silently as my head begins to spin. *Shit. I definitely drank too much.*

"Oh boy," I hear Damien say from somewhere above me.

Trying to focus on his handsome features becomes quite the task when the world is spinning, so I give it up and bury my face in my hands instead. "Surprise!" I mumble stupidly into my hands before I melt into a fit of giggles. "You're plastered, baby." I feel him lift me off the couch and into his arms, then the hard planes of his chest bouncing beneath my cheek as he carries me down the hall.

"I don't want to be number two," I whisper-yell, kicking my legs out in a futile attempt to leap out of his arms.

He stills, freezing in his steps just before the end of the hall before crushing my body firmly against his chest.

My eyelids flutter open and I find him gazing down at me, his dark blue gaze dancing all about my face.

"I don't want to be number two either," he remarks, his jaw clenched and angry. "Or number three, or number four. And I won't be."

"But you were though," I whisper, biting my lip when his lip lifts in a sneer.

"You shouldn't have said that," Damien growls. "Because now I have to spank your perfect little ass."

"You wouldn't dare!" I hiss.

"I guess we'll see," he replies, his dark eyes heating.

We enter his room and I want to protest. I want to tell him I refuse to sleep in a bed that he's shared with *Dana*, but I can't seem to form the words. He lays me down between the crisp. cool sheets and the sensation robs me of breath. I can't moan, so I sigh instead and curl my drunken limbs into the soft fabric beneath me. Rolling onto my stomach, I bury my nose in one of his pillows and breathe him in. Damien. His scent is everywhere in this place. All around me. The thought of *Dana* knowing what he smells like burns into my head and I'm suddenly angry again.

My eyes settle on Damien as he undresses in his closet. I watch his muscles work as he removes every item of clothing. The stretch and the pull of every tendon, the flex and bunch of every coil of strength. The way his skin ripples and shudders with the simplest of movements has me gasping for breath. The pulsating veins of his arms give life to the spiraling vines that wind around him. I want to trace every last curl of ink with my tongue and mark every thorn with my teeth. He's completely naked when he heads toward me, his intimidating shaft harder than stone.

"Get on your stomach," he commands and I comply without a second thought.

I close my eyes and wait for the exquisite feel of his weight to crush into me, but that's not what happens. Instead, the boxer briefs that I'm wearing are yanked downward and before I know what is happening, a sharp crack rents the air. If I had a voice I'd have brought the house down with my scream.

Fire erupts across my backside and I buck upward only to find my body pinned to the mattress by Damien's left hand on my back. I claw at the pillows uselessly, panting and twitching as another smack lands across my flesh. I can't whimper, nor cry out. Every sound I attempt to make comes out as a gasp for breath. A third strike flares across my already mottled cheeks and this time tears streak across my vision and my body quakes with the quiver of muted sobs. I fell limp, beneath his hand. The throbbing, tender flesh of my ass blazing with red hot fire.

I can hear Damien panting above me and feel the tremble of his breath as it skates over my battered skin. His offending hand slips between my thighs to gently curb the wetness of my slit. A groan erupts from above me when he, no doubt, finds my entrance dripping with heat, but I dare him to try and fuck me right now. If he so much as plunges one finger behind my folds, I swear to God I'll clamp tight, flip over, and snap his fucking wrist. As it is, I'm only catching my breath. Biding my time until I can turn around and slap the ever loving shit out of him.

*Son-of-a-gorgeous-bitch. How dare he?!*

The sudden tickle of his very skilled tongue between my ass cheeks has me wiggling again, but I do my best to keep still. I don't want him thinking he can get away with- *Oh God!*

His kisses spread out across the sensitive, vibrating heat of my backside. His tongue massaging and caressing every line of risen flesh. The soft pillows of his lips dragging across the brayed orbs he pounded with anger only moments ago. He sucks and swirls and nibbles the delicate mounds, humming in approval against my skin.

Then he drags the boxer briefs completely off of my legs and turns a switch on the wall. Every cluster of lanterns in the room softens, the warm yellow glow of light from before banking into a throbbing honeyed thrum that barely warms the darkness. Damien climbs over me then pulls me onto his chest, being careful with my tender bottom when he drags the cool duvet up over our bodies. My right leg stretches over his thighs and I can feel the vibrating pulse of his shaft as it throbs for a release that he seems to be denying himself.

"Get some sleep, baby," he coaxes.

I would* except that I can feel the tension in his muscles. Even his breathing is labored. So, with a smirk in the darkness, I fake a yawn and pretend to doze with my head on his chest. All the while *accidentally* stroking my hand lower and lower over his stomach until my knuckles rest under the head of his swollen staff. He shivers, his dick bouncing upward as it pulses with new life.

"Fuck," he hisses, one hand fisting in the bed sheet and the other tensing across my back.

Smiling to myself, I snuggle more tightly against him, pushing my breasts into his sides and dragging the stiff peaks of my nipples across his torso. He shudders against me, then I dip my head beneath the covers and trace my tongue over the tip of his shaft, lapping at the pre-cum beading against my lips.

"Baby," he moans, his dick spiking forward as if desperate for my kiss.

I suck him into my mouth greedily, my free hand stroking the base of his shaft as he swells against my tongue. My head bobs lower, inching him past my throat and all the way back as I relax my jaw and purr. Sucking and stroking him wantonly, I increase the tempo of my assault, driving him back farther and farther each time he moans. His cocks swells so swiftly and so suddenly in my mouth that I nearly choke when he explodes behind my lips, pumping erratically into my throat until he's panting for breath.

When I dislodge him and prop myself up to stare down into his eyes, he shakes his head at me in wonder. "No more being alone with Alex. Not with Mickey, or Tiny, or anyone else. You're mine, baby girl. You want to fuck around with them? I have to be there too."

I bite my lip, considering. "You can't just decide *for* me," I whisper.

Damien's jaw clenches. "I don't think you understand how far I'm willing to go to keep you to myself."

*But what if I disappear? What if I go away in a couple of days and don't come back?*

*How long will it be before you assume I'm dead, just like you did Ruby?*

"You said you didn't want to be number two," he reminded me. "I told you... neither do I. I want you in my bed every single night... just like this."

I study him carefully, thinking of Dana and the fact that I'll be gone soon and she'll be here. If Santos breaks his word and doesn't let me go? How long will it be before she's warming his bed for him?

"What about Dana?" I whisper. "what number is *she?"*

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