Addicted To Daddy's Mafia Friend

Chapter 1: You Taste So Good

Abigail

I was sitting at one of the nightclubs in town, sipping from my glass when the lights suddenly dimmed into a red hue, casting shadows on the floor of the club. Sensual music played softly in the background, joined by the tapping of a stripper's heels as she stepped into the stage.

She was a very beautiful woman, dressed in a flimsy and translucent material covering a body that I could only dream to have. She had caught the attention of every single soul in the club including me and all pairs of eyes were on her except one. This particular nightclub was located in the eastern part of the town and it is filled with questionable character and newcomers weren't frequent.

The man currently staring at me was definitely not a regular, I raised my head, locking eyes with the stranger before averting my gaze back to the women on stage. He had the body of a fighter, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the tattoos on his strong forearms. He was leaning on the railing, both of his wrapped around his glass of wine. Even though his face was partially hidden by the dark shadows, I could tell that he was a very handsome man and he looked like he wanted something from me.

After a few moments of enjoying the dance and an extra sip of my drink, I had forgotten about the stranger until the music stopped and I sensed his presence before I saw him. I didn't like the fact that I didn't see him coming. He was just a mere feet away from me. I am used to being approached by men but not the type of man who looked the way he did.

I got a close look at him as he was close to me, he is the finest man I have ever seen, his eyes were dark and his tattoos were darker. Intricate patterns ran down his neck all the way to his fingers that were wrapped around his glass. The ring on his index finger tapped the glass as he sat down next to me, his arm spreading out to lay on the backrest of the sofas as he made himself comfortable. He is bold and I like it.

I turned my body to him, closing one leg over the other and his eyes dropped down to my thighs, taking in the sight of the tattoo on my skin as a smirk formed on his lips. I could tell that he liked what he saw and he liked it even more when I shifted closer to him. I took his wrist, guiding his hand to my face. He watched me carefully, not taking his eyes off me.

“Water?” I asked, retreating my hand.

He wasn't acting out on drunken confidence, he was sober, clear headed and the agenda on his face was loud and clear.

“I don't drink much.” He said and his voice was deep and sexy.

A chill ran down my skin and it wasn't just because of how good he sounded, he had power radiating off him unlike anything that I have felt before. His knuckles were marked by scars but covered in black ink. His hands were steady, too steady to be considered normal. He looked trained but I have no idea.

“Me too,” I said, taking a sip of my cognac.

He smiled at me, showing me the deep dimples on his cheeks. The innocent little dents were childlike, something that I didn't expect on a man built like him.

“What do you want?” I asked, deciding to skip all the formalities and I reached over, setting my glass on the table.

“I think you know.” He whispered slowly, his eyes darting between mine and my lips.

He raised his hand, lifting it to stroke my cheek with his knuckles. His eyes were lit with amusement, knowing that I was slowly falling into his trap. My heartbeat quickened and I swallowed away the nerves that I refused to show. He couldn't have known that I wasn't the confident person I was pretending to be. This was my first time talking to a man for longer than thirty seconds in as long as I could remember. I was an internal wreck.

“Really?” I said, nearly shivering when his fingertips stoked the skin on the side of my neck.

A man a I just fucking met was succeeding at making my body react to his touch, I didn't even know his name but I didn't care. My pussy throbbed and that is when I knew he was the one I wanted to fúck tonight.

“What is your name?” He asked, drawing an unknown pattern on my skin, his eyes following his fingers.

“What is yours?” I asked back, inching closer to him. Gosh, he smells so good. He grinned, peering at me through sensual eyes.

“I am sure I asked first.” He muttered.

“I don't care,” I said, letting my hand rest on his thigh.

He was athletic, that was very obvious but I wondered if the rest of his body was decorated by the dark tattoos and I needed to see.

“Luciano,” he said with no hesitation, catching me by surprise.

Wow, I love the name. I paused, taking a moment to think about it. Did I want to go down this road with him? Did I want to fúck a man and the leave the town the next day and never see him again? I did, of course I want this. He gripped my cheek gently but from enough to face my head into his direction. He bent down and whispered.

“I want to know the name of the woman I am fucking tonight.”

“Wow, brave, really?” I murmured under my breath.

I had never had a man say anything like that to me before and I wasn't ashamed to admit that I was enjoying it. The lights dimmed, another dancer stepped into the stage and yet again, he kept his eyes on me.

“Playing hard?” He whispered.

“Brave would be throwing you over this table and giving everyone a different form of entertainment. I don't think you want that, do you?” He played with my hair, twirling a lock around his tattooed fingers.

I took a deep breath, involuntarily picturing the scene of him pressing my face into the glass table and fucking me from behind. The thought was intrusive and too vivid for comfort. I like that so much.

“Brave would be touching you here.” He murmured, letting the back of his fingers graze my collar bone.

“And here,” he moved over to my exposed cleavage, touching the skin softly and I let him because he was so damn hot.

“Knowing that all those men are watching.” He nodded his head to the right, into the direction of a group of men he wasn't even looking at and they pretended to be occupied when I caught them.

“Abigail,” I mumbled, pushing my inhibition to the side, he chuckled and his dark eyes swirling with lust.

“Such a beautiful name to a gorgeous lady.” He muttered.

“Abigail” he said, testing it on his tongue and my name had never sounded that good.

“Brave would be…” he paused, caressing the hem of my dress, his eyes met mine and flickering to my lips just for a moment. I saw the question, I thought about it again. I deserved to let loose for one night and I nodded.

He didn't wait, he saw the opportunity and wasted no time in grabbing me by the waist.

“I am going to kiss you, Abigail.”

With his hand clasped underneath my ear, he leaned forward and kissed me. I barely had time to comprehend it but I let my body relax. His lips were full, soft and felt so fucking good that I couldn't help but let out a breathy moan. It hadn't been so long since I was kissed and it shouldn't have felt as earth shattering as it did. He grabbed my jaw, angling my head to deepen the kiss, currents of pleasure sparked through me, straight to my fucking clit and I had to squeeze my thighs together.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his lips not leaving mine.

“If your kiss feel like this….” He trailed off, his big hands holding my hips and gave me a small squeeze.

I smiled at him, getting one taste and wanting more and more. I grabbed the back of his head, pushing his mouth further into mine. He was a good kisser. The door was already dark by the time I pulled away but light enough for me to see the erection straining against his pants. He was hard between his legs, pressed down his length and clothed by a thin material. The size of his dick almost scared me. What the fuck was I supposed to do with all of that?

He licked his lips and it was evident that the kiss had left him a little dazed. For a sober man, his eyes were pretty low and it felt good to know that I wasn't the only one affected. In fact, he seemed a bit more touched than me.

“You taste so good.” He whispered and then kissed my neck. I was convinced if we were alone, my clothes would have been long gone.

My heart beat was still haywire and my mind was whirling with too many thoughts but beyond all of that, I knew I wasn't going to leave this man tonight. Just like that, I became putty in his hands. To mold and to use however he wanted. As long as I got an orgasm from it, I had no issues delving into unknown territory.

He retrieved his wallet and pulled out some money and set it on the table. Then I realized he was paying for my drink that I hadn't finished. He stood up and held a hand out for me and when I let my palm touch his, I knew that there was no going back. There was silent agreement between us as he led me through the masses of the club, guiding me through the bodies and making sure we didn't bump into anyone.

I followed him, mentally preparing myself for whatever he had in store for me.