Owning the Mafia Don

Proserpina

When we landed, it was dawn. We had flown all night long, having stopped to refuel and meet one of Lucien’s associates in Dubai. I guessed it to be around 11 p. m. in Hollowford now since it was around 7 a. m. as I stepped out onto the tarmac, holding Lucien’s hand.

Autumn was setting in, and an early morning chill made me shiver and then , I stared as I caught onto what the flight attendant was saying. I knew the woman; Betty had been with Lucien’s crew for years now but she still appeared to be in awe of my husband who barely glanced her way as he gave a terse nod.

‘Have a great honeymoon in Greece, ma’am,’ she beamed.

*

Greece? I whispered in shock and amazement, Lucien had brought me to Greece?

I almost floated down the steps to the ground, thrilled beyond words. I had grown up guzzling myths about Greece and now, to be here was a dream come true! Those hours at night, reading by torchlight huddled under a blanket, had been my only happy times when I was a child in my aunt’s house, the unwelcome extra mouth to feed, as my uncle kept sniping.

Seeing my look of childish joy, he kissed me fleetingly and murmured,

‘A long overdue honeymoon, don’t you think?’ his grey eyes slid over me, mockingly and I blushed.

*

All during the flight, I kept wondering what had made me behave in such an abandoned manner. Like …a… I shuddered to even think of what I had been doing. To have let my wild self take over and initiate the lovemaking in the car…!!!

As though aware of my trepidation, Lucien gripped my cold hand in his and propelled me forward firmly.

Around five or six cars were waiting and on seeing us approach, a tall man, with a bushy black beard. A loud man, came to us; that was my first impression of Yiorgios Karras. All I saw at first were his large white teeth, gleaming against his olive complexion and the black eyes with the long , curling lashes, making him look like a beautiful man. His full mouth was opened in a wide grin and he was greeting Lucien loudly, gathering my bull-like husband in a hug.

Lucien Delano was not as tall as Karras but he made up for it with his width and muscular physique. I felt again, a wave of longing as I thought of how he had rammed his powerful member into me just a few hours ago.

Karras, who was also younger than my husband, seemed genuinely fond of Lucien and I was intrigued. I had met Siek Toth who had appeared respectful, but not fond of my husband. This man behaved like a long-lost friend. After having embraced my husband, and having made some loud exclamations of appreciation, he turned to me. His beautiful eyes widened slightly as they ran over my face and figure.

“You never told me you had married a beautiful, sexy teenager!’ he laughed, chortling merrily at his own joke and I smiled weakly as Lucien’s face tightened imperceptibly. But my husband turned to me and pulled me into his arms.

“This is Proserpina. My Woman.’ he said in his customary rasping voice, brooking no discussion.

‘She is the mother of my six children,’ he added, for effect.

The Greek’s head whipped to stare at me in astonishment and a new respect. Then he began to speak again, loud and cheerful.

“Congratulations to you, young lady! This man,’ he laughed, loudly, prodding Lucien’s arm, ‘No woman could tie him down. He was always in bed with a different woman, every hour a different one!!!’

He laughed once more, completely misunderstanding the look of pained consternation on my face.

“Yes, then he says to me two days ago, he says, Karras, I am coming for my honeymoon, You arrange all.’ he bellowed in laughter as he went on,

‘And I say, eh? My friend? When did you get married? Which woman has captured you, eh?’

Lucien squeezed my hand and sent me a hard look. I felt my cheeks turn pink as I dropped my gaze helplessly.

The Greek, with the prominent pointed nose, beamed as he came to a stop but his eyes had narrowed shrewdly as he took in Lucien’s not-so-amused expression and my flushed face.

‘Six children, eh? You very busy man!’ he murmured, his gaze lightly skittering over my body as he turned to walk away.

‘I have had a lot of help,’ murmured my husband under his breath as he sent me another scorching look and my face flamed as I thought of the shameless way I had encouraged him to make love to me in the car just a few minutes ago…

In a moment, Karras had begun to lead us away. From his fast-paced monologue, I could make out that he was speaking of the place he had arranged for us to stay. And I caught the name of the place we were in.

Nafplio.

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It was a small town, with picturesque alleys and Venetian balconies. I could spot many tiny cafes. Places that seemed to beckon one to sit and stare at the world as it went by, relaxing over a cup of coffee.

Oblivious to the men who had now begun to speak business, I concentrated on the passing scenery. I was not surprised to see that Lucien could converse to a certain extent in Greek, but then, nothing my husband did could amaze me anymore.

He sat, an arm around my shoulders as we drove through the streets, while our host, for that was who he was, talked nonstop. The place seemed to be bathed in a wave of romance and I sighed, taking it all in eagerly; the tiled roofs of the buildings we drove past, the blue-green sea shimmering in the distance in the morning sun and yes, the grand homes. I glimpsed what I guessed were fortresses.

‘ The Bourtzi Castle,’ smiled Yiorgios Karras. indulgently when he noticed my star-struck gaze. Lucien’s arm around my shoulders tightened just a fraction but the Greek pretended not to notice although I sensed that he had done so. My husband was possessive and he resented it when men looked at me in a certain way, openly appreciative.

I snuggled into his body but watched the scenes outside raptly.

The promenade seemed to beckon me and I closed my eyes briefly and sighed, hoping that we would have a chance to stroll along the romantic-looking paths, that overlooked the sea.

*

Our host took us to a hotel that combined modernity with the old age charm of the small town and I sank onto the bed, beaming. I wanted to place a call to the kids as sooon as I could and let them know we had arrived. It must have been close to midnight but the twins and of course, Paddy and Claude were up, waiting for my call. Beatrice was also around as were Camille and Tadana. Grace had also volunteered to stay till we returned and I chatted with every one of them. Excitedly, I began to show them pictures of the room and the view as Lucien sat watching me, a look of amused indulgence on his hard face. When we finally completed out conversation, for I had wanted to talk to everyone, to see my babies, I put down my phone with a sigh of pleasure.

“Lucien Delano, I love you,’ I whispered, looking at the man who was standing in the middle of the room, a tumbler of whiskey in his hands as he sipped, watching the sea.

He grunted.

“Show me again.’ he said in a deep baritone, his gravelly voice sending shivers down my spine and I sighed, going into his arms willingly. We went into the bathroom, and somehow, managed to have a bath in the bathtub together without making love. Lucien was the one who said he wanted to hold me properly when he ‘fuc*ed me’; those were his words. But I went down on my knees and took his huge member in my mouth, pleasuring him again. Later, he held me in his arms, playing with my clit till I sobbed out as I came in his arms, with him holding me up against the cool tiled bathroom wall as I shuddered helplessly and sagged against him, his skilful fingers toying with me…

‘Want to play some more, little one?’ he taunted as he lifted me up after we had bathed once again.

I shook my head numbly, too exhausted to speak.

With a hoarse chuckle, he carried me to the bed, and we lay down; I drifted off to sleep, my arms around my lover. When I came awake, it was to the sight of Lucien dressing.

‘Don’t you want to see the town?’

He came close to me and bending down, he teased, running a hand across my belly, making me shiver. I slid off the bed quickly as he went on, his eyes on me, as he buttoned his white shirt.

‘Or woman, shall I f*ck you again?’

I walked over to him, the towel draped around my body. Standing on tiptoe, I kissed him.

‘Making Love,’ I whispered, kissing his hard mouth, ‘That’s what it is called. Not some ugly F word. Lucien please.’

He gripped the nape of my neck and said, his teeth grazing my earlobe,

‘When I see you, little woman, I lose my control. So it boils down to plain f*cking.’

I gasped as he captured my mouth and all arguments ceased.