The Power of a Woman: A Mafia Erotic Romance

  Gina Whitney & Leddy Harper

  Text copyright © 2015 Gina Whitney & Leddy Harper

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy

  All Rights Reserved in accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher or author constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at hoopdreams128@aol.com. Thank you for your support of author’s rights.

  FBI Anti-Piracy Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison along with a fine of $250,000.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN 10: Print: 1519568843

  ISBN 13: Print: 978-1-5195-6884-7

  ISBN 13 ePub: 978-1-4951-8486-4

  Cover Design: Jada D'Lee design www.jadadleedesigns.com

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements - Gina

  Acknowledgements - Leddy

  Preface

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Twenty-six

  Twenty-seven

  Epilogue

  For The Reader

  About Gina

  About Leddy

  Gina Whitney

  Blood Ties

  Beautiful Lies

  Saving Abel

  Forgiving Gia

  Avenging Us

  Luca

  Leddy Harper

  Home No More

  Benevolent

  Lust

  My Biggest Mistake

  Falling to Pieces

  This is for Jay-Z and Linkin Park for showing us what a true collaboration is supposed to look like.

  First and foremost I want to thank my coauthor, editor and friend Leddy Harper. You have become the right side of my brain at times. I know it’s scary place even part-time. I’m thankful you were put on my path and I can call you my chick(well that’s the clean version. LOL).

  A special thank you to my friend and fellow colleague, Al Daltrey. It was because of his original outline that ultimately led to this short story becoming a novel. You’ve been there from the inception and have given me nothing but support. I can’t tell you how valuable your friendship is to me. Well I could, but that might take a few pages.

  A tremendous thank you to my beta team whom I adore more than any words I could write. Vicci, Deana, Heidi, Tiffany and Gail. Your feedback and love is greatly appreciated, but your friendship is invaluable.

  A tremendous thank you to my street team who pimp tirelessly every day getting my name out there. You girls rock!

  A big hug and kiss to my chick Christine Stanley, and the ladies at The Hype Authors. You’re awesome!

  A sloppy Yankee kiss to Deena Rae Schoenfeldt of E-BookBuilders. How you deal with me I’ll never know. I love your Texas ass! I’m always in awe of your talent.

  Lastly, a big thank you to my PA Ruby Hinkleberry. Her attention to detail allows me to do what I do without worry.

  To all my readers: Where would I be without you? Thank you, for one-clicking without hesitation and taking the journey with me. I hope you enjoy the newest ride.

  First and foremost…my family for dealing with me for weeks on end when all you say was the back of my laptop. I don’t know what I would do without you! Gina…oh where do I start? You’ve taught me so much about mafia and writing a sexy scene hahaha. You’re the best, and I’m beyond honored that you even asked me to do this with you in the first place. I love you more than you know, and am so honored to call you my friend…amongst other endearing terms LOL! Neda…I may give you crap a lot, but at least I always say “you’re always right”…and in the end, that’s all the matters, right?! You rock! Thank you so much! Marlo…you complete me. But in a way more meaningful way. And to show I’m not a heartless bitch (okay, maybe I am sometimes)…Sarah and Shari. My forgetful mind may leave your names out of things sometimes, but they’re imprinted on my heart…and that’s forever. I love you both! Bloggers, readers, writers, (pretty much anyone who’s picked up this book) THANK YOU!!! I’m out of time…so this is all. If I forgot you, just know it wasn’t intentional!

  All of us live with a demon inside. Some days, you control the demon. And other days, it controls you. But the one thing that never changes is that it’s always hungry. It feeds on lust and longing. You may slumber, but the demon never sleeps. It tempts you into crossing every line you’ve ever drawn, and all the while, it tests you, haunts you. And once it has turned your loved ones into enemies, the demon has consumed you whole.

  ~Jordana

  Jordana Albanese grew up in a world spun with lies, secrets, and multiple sins. Her father, Gene—reigning king in the Mafia for the last decade—never protected her from his underworld dealings—La Cosa Nostra. She learned at a young age that in order to survive in her world, one must be dominant. She wore the shield of control on a daily basis, but she deeply yearned to slip it off and dispose of it. Except, letting it go would mean letting it all go. And she didn’t want that. She learned of a compromise—where she could only let go of control in private, behind a closed door, while receiving orders from him. Not simply to be controlled, but to be dominated. The only problem was that her ambitions cut bone deep. Deeper than a belt across her ass. Deeper than the marks from the restraints he used to subdue and pleasure her. The permanent marks left were not visible to the human eye. They were profound wounds—scars—on her soul that only she could experience and draw strength from.

  And that’s where she found the perfect balance in the two. Her submissive tendencies served her well in the bedroom. While in public, she was every bit as dominant as her male counterparts.

  This was exactly what I needed—some time with him.

  The purple bruises on my backside and the teeth impressions on my breasts would heal in time, they always do. But the lingering sensations of the marks left behind by his punishing hand would serve to keep him fresh on my mind. And that’s exactly where I wanted him…where I needed him. I could handle his roughness—yearned for it—but I refused to accept his cold and distant demeanor. After suffering a lifetime of coldness from my own father, I wouldn’t do the same with Stefan. I could handle it from just about anyone else, but not him.

  His kisses were ravenous an
d borderline ferocious—demanding and unrelenting, just like the man behind them. The fury, mixed with the passion we shared, vibrated throughout his body, sending an electric current coursing through my nerves, setting my entire system ablaze with heat and desire. He was like a volcanic eruption, burning hot and dangerous…uncontrollable.

  He released my arms from his vice-like grip and laced his fingers tightly through my hair. The pinching pain on my scalp was instant. However, I felt the moisture pooling between my legs, my need for whatever he would give me taking control. I was a sick bitch to be so turned on by his torment, but Stefan—and only Stefan—knew what I not only wanted, but what I desperately needed. He deepened the kiss, taking, taking…taking, and yet his teeth gnashed against mine, searching for me, calling to me without words. I was left gasping for air when he finally wrenched away, the cold air of the room filling the space where he’d been. So cold.

  “May you, huh? So, you think you’re brave enough to withstand what I’m going to dish out? Is that it, Jordana? You want the worst of me? You think you can handle that?” His eyes, dark and dilated, pierced through mine, erupting something deep within me. His sneer caused my clit to pulse and my nipples to throb. “You may regret that in a minute, little one.”

  His domineering nature in the bedroom got to me like nothing else ever could, and it’d turned me into an addict desperate for my next fix. There was no going back—not that I wanted to. “Yes, Stefan, give me the worst of you.”

  I dropped to my knees and hoped he’d let me show him how fucking serious I was. How I wanted this with him. How I could be this for him. I wanted him to see how a mutually benefiting long-term relationship could be between us. It was the one thing neither of us expected when starting this “thing” between us—I didn’t even know what to call it anymore. We’d started out as strangers with kinky benefits, yet at some point over the last few months, our roles had twisted and turned so many times until our relationship had become so unclear that no labels made sense. At the beginning, we’d only sought release. But the chemistry we shared only caused me to want more. Caused me to need more from him. And over the course of time, that’s what I sought when I came to him—more.

  This simple act of dropping to my knees, going after what I craved the most—tasting him—seemed to infuriate Stefan more. I knew how he liked to do things, how he demanded control in the bedroom, but it didn’t stop me from going after what I wanted from time to time. I had to hold back my satisfied smirk as I watched his jaw tick with irritation, causing the muscles to protrude angrily against his reddened cheeks.

  Without preamble, he shrugged out of his pants, never taking his fierce gaze off me. I broke eye contact just in time to witness the deep blue veins of his cock engorge thickly, throbbing impatiently. I couldn’t help but lick my lips, desperate for just one taste of the arousal beading on the tip of his dick—a weakness of mine he was well aware of. However, this was his game—always has been, always will be. His harshness was all part of him showing me who was in control, forcing me to play the game on his terms, by his rules.

  “You think you can make it all better, Tesoro? Think a good cock sucking will make it all better? That if I shove my dick down your throat, everything will be fine? Huh? Do you think that sweet little mouth of yours can erase the shitty day I’ve had?”

  His words were meant to be cruel and ugly. His purpose had been to make me hate him, to make me leave, to prove himself right about this relationship. To prove to me that beyond the fucking, beyond the demands and rules, we didn’t stand a chance. He’d done this to me so many times, but we both knew neither of us could stop it. No matter how fucked up we were behind closed doors, no matter how dangerous it was for us to be together in this life, we’d never be able to quit each other. But it didn’t matter how demeaning his words were, all I heard was that he’d called me Tesoro, and it did something to me inside. It meant “treasure” in Italian, and it made me feel as though I belonged to him, as though he viewed me as cherished—irreplaceable. And above all…his—despite his concerns, his beliefs that we couldn’t have more. He knew I was his and he was mine—he just wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

  The heated waves of fury rolled off his rigid, hard body, letting me know that his bad day would surely be taken out on me now. His demons were at the forefront, ready for battle. But I had demons, too. The only difference being, I kept mine hidden and his wielding control aided my existence. Only he could gift me with the outlet that made living with my demons bearable.

  If he thought forcing me to give him a blowjob was a hardship, he didn’t know just how sick I truly was. I loved all parts of sex—the rougher the better. And no one had ever given it to me like Stefan. He could do anything to me, and I’d love every bit of it. My body was no longer mine, but his…every last inch, including my heart. It only responded to his commands, his body language. His tenor had proved to be my very own aphrodisiac.

  He grabbed the base of his cock, stroking it roughly a few times. I smiled inwardly. Despite his anger and all his protests, he was hard and proud…ready for me. Seems as though he had the same responsiveness to me as I did to him. Before I could lean forward to take him, he tightened his grip on my hair and enticed me with a shake of his angry cock, holding it just out of reach to set the precedent that he was the one who held all the control—control I willingly gave him on a silver platter.

  An idiot would get the message he tried to send with his actions: I was his to use however he wanted. His to please. There for his pleasure. His and only his. He would offer me no compassion right now, because I’d goaded him, provoked him…tested him. The old me—the person I was prior to meeting Stefan—would’ve thought to object, to assert some kind of power in order to keep from appearing weak. However, his dominance sent ripples of pleasure through my brain, stimulating the logical parts of my mind—on my knees, getting my mouth fucked, I was anything but weak. He may have called all the shots, but in the end, I was the one in control of his pleasure, and there was something beyond satisfying about that logic. Something so powerful about that truth that it made me feel invincible. He stepped forward, inching his cock toward my mouth, and then proceeded to spread his pre-cum on my lips like gloss until I opened. My tongue peeked out, quickly licking his essence from my bottom lip, indulging in the taste of his excitement—the excitement I caused. I purred with desire as the tip of his warm, silky cock grazed the back of my throat.

  “That’s right, little one. Make those sweet sounds. You like to be used like my slut, don’t you?” he said through gritted teeth, his strained words proving to me just how much I threatened his control. “Because, that’s how I’m going to use you. As my own, personal slut.” He used his thrusts to punctuate his threat, as if they’d do something to me other than turn me on even more.

  The word “slut” would’ve cut me to my core a few months ago. And the prick knew that. He was well aware of the person I was before him, and he knew how badly I hated the stigma that followed a woman who had a healthy sexual appetite. Bastard. He worked hard to fuck with me. However, he wouldn’t win the battle. I didn’t believe the bullshit he spewed any more than I thought he’d break me. Because the truth of the matter is…I am his slut. I am his whore. I allowed him to use me anyway he wanted to, because the pleasure he offered me was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. I’d be anything he needed if it meant he’d give me the kind of orgasm I could only acquire from him.

  However, in this moment whether he knew it or not…I held the power. I lifted my gaze to his, determined, and rolled my tongue around the head of his cock, teasing and tormenting. Seducing. It was my way of introducing my own control, without voicing it. Sometimes, the unspoken is louder than a shout, and more effective than a lecture. But he didn’t need to hear me say it, because I knew the meaning hadn’t been lost on him. The way his body responded to me proved how much control I had over him, much like his authority was confirmed by the way my body involuntarily reacted
to his.

  “Fuck.” He pulled his dick out of my mouth with a pop, his hand still fisted strongly in my hair. Satisfied by his reaction, I grinned up at him, challenging him once again. His mouth thinned into a firm, pissed-off line. “Get that pretty ass on the bed. On your back—legs wide. We’ll see how long you can hold that smile.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said defiantly, assuming all the brattiness that I possessed. I thought about saluting him, but figured that’d be pushing my luck. “You’re not going to break me,” I threw over my shoulder. “You realize that, right?” I needed to release every ounce of fight within me before fully relinquishing all control to him. The moment of complete and utter submission, where he held all the cards, all the control, the moment of his absolute dominance…that moment was the high I searched for in my lows. The light I sought after in my darkness. And the strength I found in my weakness. But there were steps to follow in order to get there and that was all part of the erotic game we played.

  The authority he had over my body once I finally let go gave me strength in his absence. No one had ever been able to accomplish that before; in my twenty-six years on this earth, I’d never experienced something such as this.

  His eyes flared with part fury, part unfettered, carnal lust. “Oh, is that right?”

  He grabbed me by the back of the neck and marched me over to the bed. With my back pressed against his chest, his hand came down, slapping the tender flesh of my pussy. Again. And again. The last one aimed directly for my clit. I released a deafening sob, unable to hold back any longer. Yet, I held perfectly still, refusing to show any weakness.

  “You’re daring now, is that it? You think a few months with me gives you the right to test me? You think you can handle me like this?” He pushed my bare body onto the edge of the bed—the soft comforter against my face prevented me from answering. However, he hadn’t asked it to get an answer. It was more for the threat. Smack. Smack. Smack. Another three slaps of his hard hand set my ass on fire. “You have no idea what I want to do to you right now. The day I’ve had…and yet you fuck with me.” His words were gritty, harsh…beyond angry.