Monstrous Urges: A Dark Mafia Enemies To Lovers Romance

This can’t be happening.

This isn’t real.

But none of the lies I scream at myself through the roaring in my ears has any effect whatsoever. Pure, undiluted, naked fear rips its claws through my very soul. My chest constricts, my lungs and throat burning, as I scream into the big hand clamped over my mouth.

I try and kick my heel back, but my attacker easily dodges it. Then, when he slams his weight into me, pinning my body to the glass in front of me, my face explodes with heat.

He’s hard.

My blood turns to liquid fire as I feel the thick, throbbing bulge in his pants pressing and pulsing against my ass. His thigh pushes between mine, making me choke on my breath as he roughly shoves my legs apart. He keeps grinding against me as a second strong hand gets between me and the glass windows. I moan, shuddering as he roughly mauls my breasts and brutally pinches and twists a nipple through my blouse.

“Patience may be a virtue, my little slut,” the man rasps darkly into my ear, grinding his fat erection against me. “But it’s not one of mine.”

His hand leaves my breast, pulling away for a minute. When I hear the unmistakable sound of a knife opening, my blood runs cold.

“You don’t get to say no this time,” he snarls.

I whimper as the blade touches my throat.

“In fact, you don’t get to say anything at all. I’m going to take my hand away from this mouth now. If you scream, or say anything at all without my permission, I’m going to fill it with my cock until you choke. Nod if you fucking understand.”

I nod quickly, trembling as adrenaline explodes through my system. His gloved hand slips from my mouth, and the heat of his breath on my neck makes me shudder.

“Say the fucking safe word, and I’ll stop.”

Everything goes still as it hits me.

Holy. Fucking. Hell.

It’s him.

The man from the woods.

I actually did manage to forget with the chaos in my professional life that my location is on and easily visible to him.

…And he’s finally decided to use that knowledge.

It’s then that the raw fear inside of me starts to morph into something else. Something fucked up and wicked. Viciously addictive, and unnervingly hungry.

Being accosted in my hotel room, manhandled, and slammed into the windows with a knife to my neck and an erection digging into my ass should horrify me.

It doesn’t.

Because when the lights go out and my thoughts take over, this is where they take me.

These are the sorts of twisted, fucked-up, depraved fantasies that make me gasp into the sheets at night.

The violence. The complete loss of control.

Someone much bigger and stronger than me doing what they want with or without my permission.

Yes, it’s completely terrifying that my stranger has tracked me to a hotel room, jumped from the shadows, and placed a knife at my throat as he puts his hands wherever he wants on me. It’s also my ultimate fantasy.

My every whimpered, whispered desire.

Take control. Take anything you want.

Chase me. Catch me. Hurt me. Fuck me….

The second he growls those words into my ear, any and all horrified restraint goes out the window. I shamefully realize I’m already wet, and my nipple that he twisted is already tingling and swollen with achey need. Instantly, I’m melting against the glass, the skin of my throat throbbing under his blade.

“Say the fucking word, my little slut,” he rasps darkly. “And I’ll stop.”

I cry out as he bites my earlobe hard. His mouth drops, and I whimper and moan as his teeth bite into the side of my throat, sending bolts of powerful lightning crackling through my core. I look up, and my heart lurches as I realize I can vaguely make out his reflection looming behind me in the glass.

He’s all in black, same as before.

Black t-shirt. Black jeans. Black boots.

A black devil’s mask over the top half of his face, leering at me with pure malice.

“Or maybe I won’t,” he growls slowly. “Maybe you’ll say your precious safe word, blithely thinking that will save you, and I still. Won’t. Fucking. Stop.”

A dark, twisted, devious sort of need throbs and pulls at my core. Heat pools between my thighs, and I whimper as he suddenly spanks my ass brutally through my skirt.

“But that’s a die you’ll have roll yourself, isn’t it?”

I nod quickly as my breath quickens. My chest heaves, and I squeal as he suddenly grabs a fist of my hair close to the scalp. He twists and pushes, pinning my cheek to the dark glass overlooking the neon lights of New York. The blade at my throat slowly trails lower, the tip dragging lightly over my skin and leaving a throbbing, shivering quiver in its wake.

He notches the tip against the top button of my blouse.

Flick.

The button slices away. The knife slides lower.

Flick.

With another quick twist of his wrist, that button also gets cut away. He keeps going, slowly slashing off every button of my blouse until the whole thing falls open. I shudder as he slips the blade into the front of my black lace bra. Deftly, his wrist flicks again, and I gasp sharply as he cuts my bra away, freeing my breasts against the chilly glass.

He roughly cups one of them, his weight still pinning me to the window. The blade in his other hand teases over my ribs, fluttering just off my skin enough not to cut me. The thrill of the imminent danger of that knife dancing over my skin makes my blood roar and my head swim. I move to plant my hands against the glass. But in one motion, he’s yanking them both around to the small of my back and pinning them there with one hand.

My pulse jangles as my breath fogs the glass in front of me. He yanks my ripped blouse and bra down my arms and twists and wraps them tight around my wrists, tying my hands at the small of my back. I feel the knife slide lower, dancing over my skirt before it slips under the hem, and I whimper when he lifts the fabric with the blade’s edge.

The knife twists in his hands, pushing up between my thigh and the fabric of my Chanel skirt. I jolt as he suddenly brings the blade forward, his muscled forearm rippling in the glinting lights of the city as he slices clean through my skirt.

The fabric drops to my feet. His hand twists my hair at the scalp again, pinning me harder to the glass as his blade teases over the lacy waist of my thong.

The tip pushes under the front. My eyes bulge, my breath hitching and my skin erupting into goosebumps as he slowly pushes the knife down into my panties. It’s sharp as fuck, but he angles it so it doesn’t cut me. It’s just the hard flat width of it that pushes lower and lower, teasing so dangerously close to my pussy that for a second, I truly consider how fucking unhinged all this is.

I don’t actually know this man. At all. And I’ve let him follow me to a secluded dark room, where he’s already said he might not even stop if I use the safe word.

Vault.

Say the word, girl. Say the FUCKING WORD before this insanity goes any further.

But even as I mentally try to scream some sense into myself as he inches the huge knife closer and closer to my most intimate area, it’s like I’ve gone into a trance.

My pulse races. My body tingles and throbs and aches in ways I’ve never felt before. A warm, enveloping darkness pulls me under, making my eyes roll back and my mouth go slack against the glass as the monster behind me shatters the line between excitement and fear, pleasure and pain, to smithereens.

At the very last second, his wrist twists. The knife turns ninety degrees, and when the metal drags over my throbbing clit, it’s the dull edge at the back, not the sharp, honed blade, that touches my body.

My mouth falls open, and a haunted, aching moan falls from my lips as he rubs the dull edge of the knife over my swollen clit.

He hears it, too.

The man rumbles a dark, sinister laugh. I cry out as he roughly pinches my nipple again, grinding his erection against my ass as he begins to rub the back of the knife back and forth over my clit.

“I didn’t realize what a little whore I’d found,” he rasps darkly, the hint of that European accent I still can’t quite place sending shivers through my core. “Tell me,” he growls. “Is it the thrill of danger that makes this slutty little pussy so fucking drippy and messy?”

He deftly twists the blade, letting the tip push down to just barely scratch my inner thigh.

“Or is it the pain that makes you such an eager little fuck toy for me?”

My breath is ragged and gasping as he twists the blade back again, letting the flat side roll back and forth, back and forth across my aching clit.

His finger roughly twists my nipple. Then, without warning, he suddenly slaps it—not ultra violently, but enough to send explosions of pain and pleasure searing through every nerve ending in my body. I cry out, choking on the heady rush of both feelings—the good and the bad—as they keep me in their grip.

“Answer me, slut,” he rasps darkly into my ear.

“B-b-both,” I mewl out with a breathy choke. My voice doesn’t even sound like me—the confident, poised, boss-lady Taylor helming a board meeting or commanding a court room.

That’s not who’s speaking right now. The voice that whimpers from my throat is submission personified.

Breathy and scared.

Eager and desperate.

Needy and subservient.

His wrist rolls back and forth. The back of the knife rubs over my throbbing clit again and again. My face burns with shame at the wet, slick, sticky sounds of my eagerness against the steel as delirium rolls over me.

I’m fucking dripping. I’m so wet I can feel it leaking down my thighs and turning my thong to a soaked mess.

The man chuckles darkly at my back, leaning around to let his teeth bite down hard on the hollow of my throat.

“What a desperate little whore I’ve found. What a filthy little pain slut I’ve uncovered, getting so fucking wet from a complete fucking stranger rubbing her greedy cunt with a knife.”

I shudder as his teeth drag over the bite mark he’s just given me.

“I can’t wait to watch you scream when I take every greedy hole you have, my pretty little slut.”

Suddenly, I gasp as his arm yanks hard. The blade cuts through the front of my thong with the ripping sound of lace against steel. In one motion, he flips the blade, and I inhale sharply as he drives it hard right into the papered wall next to the huge window I’m pinned against.

My panties are dangling from the blade, pinned in place barely a foot from me. He growls as he grabs a handful of my hair, twisting my head to force me to look right at the ripped lace dangling from his knife.

“Look how fucking wet you got for me, little toy,” he rasps darkly. “Just in case there’s still a tiny part deep inside you rebelling against this, trying to tell you that you don’t enjoy it, that you didn’t like it when my lethal blade made your pussy almost come for me, like the filthy little cum slut that you are,” he snarls. “Look how fucking messy you got for me.”

It’s almost too much. It’s so…real. So engulfing. So everything. Like standing too close to a bonfire, until the heat is singeing the ends of your hair and drying out your lips.

Like looking directly at the sun.

There’s a small part of me that almost wants to say—no, scream—the one word that will end all of this. And yet, even as I try and tell myself this has gone far enough… He’s right.

There is a rebellious part inside of me. But it doesn’t want me to stop. It’s not whispering that I don’t want this.

It’s screaming for more.

So the word never comes. And all I can do is shudder, and gasp, and whimper against the glass of the windowpane in front of me as his hand slides down my stomach and between my thighs. I moan, my teeth clamping down on my bottom lip as he pushes two fingers over my clit and between my pussy lips. They curl inward, and a gaps chokes from my throat as he suddenly rams both fingers deep inside me.

His hands are big, veined, and powerful. His fingers thick and strong. And when they drive up into me and instantly find that spot inside, I see stars. His palm grinds into my clit roughly, his other hand pinching and mauling my swollen, tender nipples before it wraps around my throat.

And squeezes.

Instantly, my body responds. It’s like sending an electrical current zapping through my core. My skin prickles and shivers. My toes curl against the floor. My walls tighten around his massive fingers, and my eyes roll back.

“Yes, just like that, my greedy little cum slut. I can feel your eager little pussy trying to milk my fingers when I squeeze your throat.”

He does it again. And again, my gasping moan chokes in my throat even as my pussy clamps down around his fingers.

He chuckles darkly.

“Such. A. Greedy. Whore.”

I’ve always craved violence and total submission. The utter domination and the complete loss of my control. The thrill of being hunted, stalked, and chased. The danger of a stranger looming from the darkness.

But the way he’s talking to me…

That’s new.

And I don’t hate it.

At. All.

His hand tightens around my throat again, making my pussy squeeze his fingers over and over. I whimper as he starts to drive them in and out, hard; stroking against my g-spot with every deep thrust. I whine quietly in the back of my throat when he slips his fingers free. But then he raises his hand, and I watch with wide eyes in the reflection of the window as he brings them to his mouth and sucks them clean with a satisfied groan.

“Your fear tastes like fucking candy, slut,” he growls.

I watch him bring his hand back down between my thighs. I gasp as he sinks his fingers back into me, stroking and pumping against my g-spot and my clit as I whimper and moan.

His fingers slip out again. His hand lifts. This time, his glistening fingers approach my mouth.

“Open wide,” he growls. “Open that mouth and tastes how messy your cunt is for me.”

I do, without hesitation. Without even thinking about it. I’m so lost in the control he has over me that my lips part without question. His slick fingers glide over them, slipping over my tongue.

“Suck.”

My lips wrap around his finger, and I do as he says.

Heat floods my face as my tongue swirls around his thick finger.

I taste sweet.

His finger slides in and out of my lips, and I can feel myself moan as my face throbs with heat, my tongue sucking and dancing around his finger as he fucks my mouth with it.

His hand pulls free, instantly delving back between my legs. Two fingers sink back into me, stroking my g-spot as his palm grinds hard into my clit.

Oh fuck.

My legs start to shake as his fingers ram into me over and over. Lewd, loud squelching sounds fill the room along with my choked whimpers and desperate moans. I flush, feeling him pin me harder to the glass, grinding his huge erection against my ass as my thighs grow slick with need.

I feel him reach between us and unzip his fly.

Oh God…

His forearm ripples against my back as he pulls himself free. My eyes bulge.

Holy. Fuck.

I feel the hot, thick, huge throb of his cock pressing against my ass. He’s so fucking warm, and I swear I can feel his pulse thudding as his rock-hard dick pulses against me.

He feels enormous.

“You know what comes next,” he growls, fingering me harder and faster, filling the room with filthy sounds that turn my face bright red.

“Your greedy little cunt is going to swallow every fucking inch of my cock. You’re going to be a good little slut and take it all. You’re going to feel this fucking cock in places no other man has ever dreamed of reaching. I’m going to tear into you and fuck you until your legs give out.”

His teeth drag up my neck and bite down hard on my earlobe.

“I’m going to ruin your pretty pussy.”

My eyes bulge when I feel his knee jam between my thighs, shoving them wider. I can feel him stroke his huge, fat cock against my ass, sending shivers of nervous fear and eager anticipation rippling up my spine.

“You made me wait, slut,” he growls. “And now my balls are so full of cum, I’ll be dripping out of your well-fucked hole until next week.”

For one brief second, reality pierces my brain.

“W-wait…” I whimper, shaking all over.

He just chuckles, shoving my legs a little wider apart as he rubs the slick, swollen head of his cock over my ass.

“I don’t think so.”

“I…” I suck in a breath of ragged air. “I’m n-not on birth control…” I whimper softly.

“You say that as if I give a fuck,” he snarls, not even stopping as he pushes the enormous crown of his cock between my thighs.

“W-w-wait! Please!”

My arms strain as I try and free them from the torn blouse still wrapped around my wrists. He chuckles darkly as I try and struggle and squirm. Even if I wasn’t tied, it would be futile.

He’s huge. And powerful. Rippling with muscles as he towers over me, pinning me to the glass.

There’s no escape from this.

There’s no escape from him.

I shiver as his fingers slide out of my pussy. His hand slides up to pinch and roll my nipples mercilessly, bringing a tortured cry of pleasure from my lips.

“Either I fuck this pussy right now,” he growls, “or I take your tight ass. I’m coming in one of your holes tonight, my little slut. Pick one.”

That’s when I know I’m a lost cause. Beyond redemption or the help of Dr. Jesnick.

Because when he says that, I don’t recoil, or get horrified or turned off.

I get wetter.

He rumbles a dark, malicious laugh, his muscled torso vibrating against my back.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you. You’d enjoy being my three-holed little slut, taking my cum everywhere.”

His teeth nip at my neck again.

“I’ll have to remember that.”

My eyes flare as he pushes his big cock between my thighs. His hips roll forward, and I whimper as I feel the thick girth of it rubbing across my lips as he rams forward. I moan as I look down to see the swollen head of him emerge from between my thighs.

My eyes bulge.

Holy. Fuck.

His hips rock back, easing his massive dick back between my thighs as the swollen head drags back over my pussy. Then he rocks forward again, and I watch it thrust back out from between my legs.

He’s. So. Fucking. Big.

“Tick fucking tock, slut,” he growls. “Am I burying my cock in your messy little pussy?”

I shiver as he glides the head between my lips, back and forth.

“Or am I claiming this tight hole back here.”

He slides backward and centers the head against my asshole.

Not a fucking chance.

I’ve never done that, and there’s no way in hell he of all people is fitting.

“M-my pussy,” I whimper, shame exploding across my face.

“You can ask nicer than that, surely.”

My cheeks throb.

“Please…”

“Please what,” he snarls into my ear.

“Please fuck my pussy!”

“Are you going to be a good little slut, and take every inch?”

I whimper, shaking all over. “Yes!”

“Say it.”

My face throbs with heat, my nipples tightening as I tremble with excitement, shame, and desire.

“I’ll be a good little slut!” I blurt as the pure insanity of this moment consumes me.

“I know you will.”

Without warning, he spins us around. I choke on my breath as he grabs a fistful of my hair, half pushing and half leading me across the darkened living room to the couch, then whimper when he shoves me down face-first across it. His palm comes down hard on my ass, making me yelp as he spanks me once, twice. Heat sizzles through my core, and a raw, aching need unlike anything I’ve ever known before burns in my core.

I want this. More than anything.

I need it.

I feel him move behind me and shiver when I feel the hot pulse of his swollen cock stroking against my thigh and then him slapping the head against my pussy.

He grabs my hip and quickly rolls me over. My hands are still bound behind my back, and I shudder as I roll onto them, helpless, my legs spread as he looms over me.

Fuck.

I could see his mask before, in the reflection in the glass. But now it’s so much more. He stands over me, that dark, matte black devil’s mask leering down at me with his icy blue eyes piercing into mine. His huge bicep bulges slightly, his forearm muscles rippling as he wraps a veined hand around, without question, the biggest cock I’ve ever seen, including in any porn.

My jaw drops and my eyes bulge as I stare at his hand stroking up and down his fat, swollen shaft. White precum beads at the tip and is running in little rivulets down his veined cock as he leers at me.

“I’m going to enjoy breaking this little pussy,” he snarls. “I’m going to enjoy fucking ruini⁠—”

It happens so abruptly my brain almost can’t process it. One second, he’s leering down at me, full of animal need and primal lust. And the next, that look has become one of pure hatred and malice.

He’s not looking into my eyes anymore.

He’s staring at my little tattoo.

It’s as if the entire energy of the room shifts. The air gets colder. The throbbing lust that’s permeated the atmosphere disappears.

All that remains is pure fear and palpable rage on his face.

“I—”

“You.”

The word scrapes from his throat like iron being dragged across stone. His eyes move from the ink on my hip up to my face. And when his eyes stab into mine, my heart turns to ice.

He doesn’t look like he wants to “ruin” me anymore. Or “break” me. Or even touch me. The smoldering malice on his face from before has turned malignant and poisonous.

He honestly looks like he wants to kill me.

“YOU,” he rasps viciously.

My eyes widen when he suddenly lunges for me.

“W-wait!! Don’t⁠—”

“Just try and run from me this time, wife.”

My brain goes numb. My face freezes in a mask of shock and horror, not even blinking when he roughly yanks me off the couch and throws me as if I weigh nothing at all, still naked, over his shoulder.

Houston, we have a fucking problem.

I go utterly numb and still, like my brain is short-circuiting. Like I’m a robot toy and someone’s just yanked out my batteries. Reality doesn’t feel real. I’m dreaming or imagining this. I don’t even feel it when he yanks a throw blanket off the couch and tosses it over me.

Suddenly, he’s marching me out the door of my hotel suite.

“W-wait,” I choke out. “I—I don’t know⁠—”

“Shut. The. FUCK. UP,” he hisses venomously as kicks open the door to the staircase and starts jogging down them, with me thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“P-please!” I whimper helplessly. “Please! I have money! You don’t have to⁠—”

“Stop. Fucking. Talking.”

He spits the words out like poison. I can literally feel the rage throbbing under his skin as I bounce against his shoulder muscles as he takes the stairs two at a time. He kicks open another door and we step into a maintenance hallway. At the end of it, he kicks open yet another door, and suddenly we’re outside, in a back alley behind the hotel.

And the spell is broken.

Maybe it’s the cool night air. Or the reality that this man is taking me somewhere. But as we step outside, and I glance back and see the traffic on the main street at the mouth of the alleyway, I lurch back to life.

“HELP!!” I scream as loudly as I can. “SOMEBODY HELP! FIRE! FI⁠—”

The breath is slammed from my lungs as he whips me violently off his shoulder, hurls me against the wall behind me, and snarls close to my face, his hand around my throat and his eyes full of pure malice.

“Stop. Fucking. Talking, Annika.”

Something short circuits in my brain. Lights flash. A spasm tears through my body and wrenches my spine. More bright lights flicker in my field of vision, turning everything dark.

The sun shines down. The flowers smell like heaven. A man laughs deeply, and a beautiful red-haired woman smiles warmly. A little girl giggles in delight.

“Come play, Annika! Come throw the ball!”

Jerking back out of it is like waking up and realizing you’re drowning. I choke, startling the man as I lurch away from the wall with a manic frenzy and terror clawing at my heart.

He lets go of me, and the speed with which I react almost scares me.

In a flash, I jerk my knee up hard and catch him in the balls. The man grunts, his face twisting in pain as I kick him as hard as I can in the shin.

He drops to one knee, hissing in pain.

And I run.

Annika! Annika! Come play, Annika…

Who the fuck is Annika?

And… Why did he just call me his wife?