I Paid A Mafia Boss For Our Night novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11 Learn to be a Mistress

As soon as Antonio left, the oppressive claustrophobia that filled the room dissipated, revealing the true spaciousness of his upscale apartment.

I sat on a high stool at the kitchen bar, sipping whiskey carefully while taking in the details of Antonio's home. As a graduate student at Boston University's School of Art, art appreciation and fashion design were mandatory courses in my curriculum.

Despite my disdain for the cold, morgue-like design of Antonio's place, I had to admit it was a masterpiece.

From the overall layout of the space to the aromatherapy on the TV stand, everything was placed with meticulous precision, as if measured by a ruler. It was like observing the habitat of someone with obsessive-compulsive disorder!

I scoffed internally, finishing off the whiskey in my glass. When I reached for the bottle again, I realized I was in trouble-I had forgotten how many drinks I had, but I knew it was half a bottle! No wonder my head felt dizzy and my cheeks were hot.

I belched, heavy with the smell of alcohol, leaning heavily against the bar, my head spinning as the room seemed to twirl around me in jest.

Antonio emerged from the shower, and as I cradled my head and looked over, I saw his scar-riddled, bare torso. My gaze swept over his firm eight-pack abs and the clean lines of his hips, ending at a pure white towel...

"You look disappointed?" Antonio's laughter echoed in my ears, his breath hot and ticklish.

I reflexively scratched my ear and denied emphatically, "Not at all! Everything will be mine soon when we get to bed!" The alcohol blurred my senses; I thought I heard Antonio speak, yet perhaps not. He pinched my flushed earlobe, walked into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water, unscrewed the cap, and gulped down half the bottle.

He drank hastily, and the excess water spilled from his mouth, trickling down his distinct Adam's apple, across his chest, and abs, disappearing into the white towel at his waist.

For some reason, I felt a sudden fear and thirst. I couldn't help but step back from the bar. That step seemed to awaken a sleeping beast. Antonio put down the water bottle and strode toward me.

"Ah! Antonio, you bastard, put me down!"

The familiar sensation of being airborne came again as Antonio hoisted me onto his shoulder, his firm shoulder pressing into my abdomen painfully.

Antonio ignored my protests, carrying me upstairs and directly into the bedroom at the end of the hallway, where he laid me on the bed. The bed was large and soft, the silky sheets making me feel like a beached fish, unable to escape from beneath him. He easily restrained my hands with one hand.

I gasped and struggled as Antonio drew the sash from my bathrobe, tying my hands to the bedpost. "Don't tie me up, Antonio, I-I'll obey you, please don't tie me up."

"Stop moving, Sienna," Antonio whispered, kissing me. "Take care of your hands."

"No, I... mm..." Antonio captured my lips with his, sliding his tongue into my mouth as I tried to protest, entwining our tongues, leaving me surviving on the scant air he breathed into me. "Antonio..."