HIS: The Mafia King's Property

Elara’s POV “What the heck?!” I sprang to my feet at my mother’s revelation. The words were hard to digest and for the hundredth time, I hoped it was a stunt. “Get ready, we’re hosting your betrothed for breakfast, tomorrow.” Sitting graciously in her seat with her legs crossed at the knee, there were no signs of remorse or anything I expected. Beside her, my father just looked at me with what seemed like pity. He folded the newspaper he was reading and tried poor damage control. “Look, honey,” he muffled. “It's for the best…” “I'm not even ready.” I angrily cut him off. “And even if I were, it would never be to a stranger.” “Young lady,” my mother snapped. “I can tolerate your cussing, but what I won't take is you disobeying your father.” This wasn't a joke after all. “He's not a stranger. Plus, he's a good guy.” I held back a series of sobs about to rip out. All my life, I had taken orders from them and lived under their umbrella like the decent daughter of a clergyman should, but not anymore. “Oh dear, don't cry.” She stood up and hurried to where I was sitting. Only now did I know tears had freely streamed down my cheeks and polled beneath my chin. “He's from a well-respected and wealthy family…” “I don't care.” I sobbed and pushed away from her. “I bet your doctrine doesn't teach giving people off against their will.” Smack!!! A thunderous sound resonated from the effect of my mother’s hand across my face. The spot she slapped reddened, sending ripples of pain through my body. “Honey…” “Enough of her tantrums!” She tackled my father, as she charged next to me. Jolting to my feet, I dashed for the door, my vision clouded by tears. “Elara, stop… Elara” I blocked out my father’s voice and slammed the door hard. Night was fast approaching, casting a dark glow. Unsure of what I was doing, I ran off our yard till my legs were weak. My mind was thrown in a state of frenzy and without fighting it, I broke down, crumbling on my feet and sobbing immensely. My life was getting into a complete mess before my eyes and sadly, I had no say! Right now, I just needed to get away from here. Maybe when I returned, it would all fade away like a dream. I flagged down the first taxi on sight. “Anywhere.” Confused by my request, he turned to look at me, but I was quick to shield my face in my palms. Bad news easily spreads like wildfire, and being the daughter of one of the most prestigious clergymen in Florida is itself a burden. “I see you're sad, miss.” He yapped ignorantly. “I know a very good spot.” Pulling onto the road, he drove me to a place I had no idea of. ‘Dear skies, please come to my rescue.’ I sniffled. ‘This can't be my fate… Please.’ It took long hours of driving before he packed. Staring out at the tall building, with red and blue light dangling above the bold letter ‘MARCO’S DYNASTY’ and the loud music banging from the thick walls, I knew it was forbidden for girls like me. “It's nothing multiple shots of tequila can't fix.” He winked and grinned sheepishly. I paid his fee and walked in, contemplating whether to abort my mission and go beg my parents, or vent out and damn the consequences. “Watch it.” A lady in a revealing dress snarled, pulling me out of my head. “I'm sorry.” I stuttered and tried to focus. The whole place reeked of sin, from the banging music worth head-splitting to the strong stench of alcohol and expensive cigars, down to the sexy ladies in almost nothing, and random old men with grey hair and high libido. ‘Elara, get out of here!!!’ My mind screeched, more scared than I was. The words of my mother echoed in my head. Somehow it was the fuel I needed as I was now by the bar. “Te-tequla.” The bartender squinted and suppressed a laugh. “Tequila?” I faked a smile. “2 shots.” My hands wrapped around my frame. I was literally fidgeting. He nodded and ran his fingers along the fine lines of expensive liquor. Thick hands lay on the counter, next to mine. I turned to find the grinning face of an old man, about twice the age of my father, only that he looked super rich in his white kaftan and bold gold and diamond necklaces dangling on him like a dog on the leech. “You’re sexy,” his ugly hungry eyes ran down my body. “Just how I like my sluts.” His black tongue licked his thick lips. My stomach churned with irritation and I adjusted, quite scared by the rebellious-looking man beside me. I knew yelling wasn’t the safest option, not in places like this. “I’m not a prostitute.” “I know your type,” he sneered. “How much would it cost to be my w***e?” “f**k off!” It had to be the adrenaline rush or my mood swings. But if it was enough to make him scoff and face the bartender, I would be rude a million times. I paid less attention as they spoke in a foreign language. After a while, the bartender slipped a glass over to me and smirked. I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I took it as a cue to pay. Thankfully, I had my card with me. Taking a sip, I grimaced as I battled the bitter taste that stung me hard. Somehow, I felt something uncomfortable, like my body was on heat. Fighting the odd feeling, I gulped down the entire shot. The weird sensation enveloped me, causing the soft skin in between my thighs to involuntarily quiver. I’m having an intensely weird s****l urge. What is happening? My heart skipped a beat. I looked from the cringy old man to the bartender, who pretended not to notice me. Something was definitely wrong… Crap! My drink was spiked! First, I needed to get out of their sight. “The re-stroom, ple-ase.” I stuttered, thighs clenched to add pressure to my throbbing clit. “Second floor and last door by your left.” Dragging my heavy legs along, I leaned against the stairs and struggled to get to the top. A shadow that wasn’t mine lingered and stopped when I tried to turn… My soul evaporated. Scared for my life, I muttered strings of prayers, and once I got to the top of the stairs, I turned to my right, doubled my pace, and tried to break into random rooms, hoping that I would be lucky to meet my savior. His footsteps neared, getting louder by the second. In my frightened state, I turned the knob of the last door, and it gave way instantly. Quick to hide from my predator, I rushed in and shut the door, before laying my back against it and drawing in deep breath. My eyes surveyed the neat spacious room with sparkling white sheets. A strong mix of woody and spicy scent wafted in my nostrils. It had to be a man’s cologne! I was in another shark’s room! Before my brain could register the thought of hiding, the bathroom door opened. Tall, with a perfect build, he had only a bath towel loosely wrapped around his waist, leaving his broad tatted chest to the wild, as beads of water dripped from his wet hair onto his olive skin that glowed in the dim light. ‘M. C.’ was boldly inscribed on his arm. Like a god, he sauntered towards me with so much confidence. As if he was the alluring meal I couldn’t wait to devour, my whole body trembled with the need just his looks evoked in my core. Trailing down his sexy length; his chiseled abs, down the fine curly hair that formed in a neat line along his belly button, only to disappear in his towel, I gulped thick lumps of saliva and stiffened. “Took you long enough, huh?” His bitter groan echoed in the room. He crushed the thick cigar once lodged at the side of his mouth on the ashtray and sealed the gap between us. Oh, my god! I was stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea. Just outside the door, I heard the footsteps of my chaser and his whispers. “Strip.” His cold tone sent ripples down my spine; ripples my quivering bud begged for. The dirty images his command stirred, made something wet and sticky drip on my panties, soaking the thin fabric, and greasing my thighs. His hand wrapped around my throat in a tight grip, stilling my protest in my throat. “I hate to repeat myself,” he sighed, pinning me to the door with his piercing hazel eyes. “Hmm,” a dirty smile crept along his lips as he neared me. “Even better in person.” My whole body trembled and it felt like I would melt in a heap, but his clutch on my throat held me pinned. I was aroused by the seemingly dangerous man. I’M NOT A PROSTITUTE… “No,” was the only word that broke out of my dry throat. My voice said one thing and my body another. I was going wild on heat. Instead, he slipped his hand in my mouth and pressed my jaws. The fingers in my mouth thrust in and out, caressing my tongue, and pushing farther. Fighting him off, my small shaky hands tried to push him away, but he gripped my hands and pinned them above my head. His hard frame crashed against my tender one, trapping me between himself and the door. The mere impact made me gasp. He leaned downward, assaulting me with his peppermint breath. “You’d regret f*****g with me.” Smack! The hand around my throat released to spank my breast. Leaving the house in a confused state, I was in a simple above-the-knee black dress, giving a good peek at my thighs. My braless boobs jiggled as it spanked it to his obedience. I cried when he grabbed my breast, slipping my n****e in between his fingers, and pinched it. “Stop…” He gripped my jaws. “Don’t you ever interrupt me.” He warned, eyes dark with burning rage. “You need my c*m in your small slutty lips.” He traced the outline of my lips, as my soft tissues squashed beneath his coarse touch. When his hand left my mouth, suddenly slipped under my dress, and claimed my body, I stiffened a cry, and arched forward, pressing my breasts against his hard muscles. His thumb roughly flicked my clit already swollen from arousal, awakening canal feelings I never imagined existed. “Sto… Ahhh…” I moaned from his touch, betraying the need to escape his torture. “Come here,” he barely gave an order as he peeled me off the door, spanked my ass, and squeezed, before tossing me on the king-sized bed. He hastily pulled out his first drawer and took a chain with a ball, then lodged it in my mouth and fastened it around my head. He stripped me till I was stark naked and likewise, his towel dropped, revealing… My eyes bulged out of their sockets as I stared at the thick grit and hardened length of his erection. More than I should be worried about his monster, my bud quaked to wrap around him and let him break me. He leveled himself on me, sticking the tip of his d**k along the entrance of my v****a. “Now be a good girl and take my cock.” Yielding to his words, my v****a stretched around him as he rammed in, sending ripples of pain and pleasure all over my body. I bit down on the ball as it suppressed my scream. My hands involuntarily wrapped around his hard mass and my fingers dug into his bare skin. The impact caused him to adjust, pushing further into my wetness. “You’re a virgin?” His dark tone muffled in my ear as he brushed hair off my sweaty face. Unable to completely pull out his thick length, he thrust in, but this time, gentle as if hating to hurt me. It was only a matter of time when the thrusts were rough and hard. I should fight till my last breath and cry, but with each hard thrust, my body grew the need for more, seamlessly adapting to his width as the walls of my v****a squeezed around him. I squirmed from the painful pleasure. “Say your name?” His baritone was a melodious moan and his muscles tensed as he plunged in. Realizing he shut me up, he loosened the gag and sighed. “Speak.” “Elara,” I mumbled, tears clouding my vision. The pounding ache that his presence had distracted me from, returned. My eyes slowly shut. He banged like a beast, sending loads of sinful desires all over my bare body. Taking my virginity, he left his imprints inside of me, filling me up till I took a good length of his d**k. “You’re mine, Elara.” I cried when his canine sunk into my skin as he marked me. Riding me to climax, the cool sensation of his tongue as he licked the area, made me explode beneath him, dripping a mix of our juices *** *** My head banged with terrible ache. Rolling in bed, pieces of last night’s wildness replayed. I jolted up, eyes wide open. His huge frame was beside me, slightly covering the red stain of my broken hymen. Seeing what time it was and remembering what my mother planned for today, I shivered. I. Am. Doomed.