Owning the Mafia Don

Lucien

Earlier that day

Lucien was at the breakfast table, bathed, and relaxed. He planned to go into the Club a little later. He wanted to spend time with his children and his Woman. These moments were so few and far in between. There were days when he barely saw the kids. When he came in late and could only look at their sleeping forms. Even as he ate, his phone pinged.

It was a message from Catalina. Damn the woman, he thought irritably.

She had been texting him continuously all night. Sending him graphic pictures of herself with the naked young man as she mounted him, as he f*ckd her , her mouth open in a loud scream…

With a disgusted grimace, Lucien had deleted the messages even as she kept sending them. The woman seemed to think that his invitation for her to be his card girl that night was an invitation to re-enter his bed and his life. She had no idea that he was bent on using her for a means, an end.

She repulsed him.

*

When the messages had kept landing on his phone into the wee hours of the morning, he had sat up, swearing softly. Turning around, in his bed, he had looked at Proserpina. The sleeping form of his innocent wife, with her hair smelling faintly of vanilla, drew him to her. He could not envisage a life without her. What he had now, was precious, His beautiful children and his woman.NôvelDrama.Org owns this.

***

He frowned again now as he glanced again at the message from Tony Beston, his Head of Security at his residence. Beston had also been keeping him in the loop about things happening close to his home. There had been a fracas on the road leading to his manor. Nothing suspicious but…

Ria was chattering away, tucking into her hash browns, while Piers was trying to read a book and eat, something his mother was firmly preventing him from doing.

The Don’s eyes softened as he looked at his wife. Younger than him by almost two decades, he still wanted her as desperately as he had when he first set eyes on her. She was in her mid-twenties now, but she had a maturity in her, an earthy beauty that made him want to keep her beside him all the time. He could never have enough of her.

She made a wonderful mother, he thought, proudly. Loving and guiding the twins. Right now, she had baby Claude in her arms. The little fellow was a cantankerous infant, and refused to let her go. He would wail and throw a tantrum if anyone tried to come close to his mother, including his father. Now he turned, sucking his thumb, his plump cheeks rounder than ever, to stare haughtily at Lucien. He had the same colouring as his siblings, blonde with blue eyes like Lucien himself. None of the children had their mother’s mahogany hair or her soft brown eyes.

Lucien scowled. He would never forgive himself for the way he had treated Proserpina in the past. Their youngest son was a constant reminder of that.

A small hand tugged at his sleeve. He smiled into the quizzical eyes of his dearest child, Ria.

“Pappa, are you scared because you are going to fight Denizen the Destroyer tonight?’ asked Ria anxiously. His daughter was the apple of his eye. She could get away with anything, he was indulgent, and he knew it. But her blonde curls and large blue eyes held him captive.

Right now, her forehead was puckered with worry. Proserpina turned to them, her face a mask of consternation and exasperation.

“Ria,’ she said in a no-nonsense voice, “Ria darling. Don’t trouble your father. Let him have his favourite breakfast.’

Her eyes twinkled, and Lucien realised that she had fixed his favourite breakfast burrito.

He watched her as she came towards him and he pulled her to himself, disregarding Claude’s loud protests.

“NO!’ screeched Claude, the one word he was good at, and louder, ‘NO! Mumma!’

Proserpina handed over the squealing infant to the maid, who had magically appeared at her side.

Lucien pulled her to him, settling her on his lap, her warm, soft body in his arms felt so right.

“Hey, you.’ He growled as he kissed her hard. He thrust his tongue into her warm mouth, dominating her easily and she relaxed beneath him, submitting to his power play.

“Hey yourself,’ she said softly, disentangling herself from his embrace, her face pink. Her mouth looked swollen and red; like a woman who had been thoroughly kissed by her lover.

She moved away to pick up angry little Claude and soothe him.

***

Lucien turned to his daughter, who was still looking perturbed.

“No sweetheart,’ he said gently and chucked her under the chin.

“Pappa is not scared.’

“Will he hurt you, Pappa?’ she went on, looking fierce, ready to kill anyone who dared to hurt her hero.

Piers had looked up too, his eyes round behind his glasses.

Smiling, the Mafia Don pulled his little girl into his arms and kissed the soft golden head.

“No. But I might hurt him.’ he rumbled.

Ria pushed him away and studied him for a moment, a look in her eyes similar to the quizzical look Proserpina had at times. Then she said it with an air of finality.

“Okay.’ She said “That’s fine then.’

***

Later, as he was preparing to leave, having made a few important calls, Proserpina came to the door of his study. She wound her arms around his neck and allowed him to pull her onto his lap.

Resting her head on his shoulder, she said softly,

“Lucien. Please take care…’

He grunted, his hands busy with her blouse that he had opened to tug at her pert nipples, before lowering his mouth to suckle at her full breasts.

“Why do you wear a fu*king bra?’ he growled.

She giggled, sounding flustered, and he knew she was getting aroused. His hand moved to rutch up her skirts and penetrated her wetness, pushing away the flimsy panties she was wearing.

Proserpina gasped sharply, her body undulating to his rough caress.

Then, pulling her clothes into place, she said, seriously,

“Take care, please.’

A discreet knock on the door.

“I have to go,’ he rasped, his mouth claiming hers again.

She slid off his lap but her fragrance clung to his skin as he left.

‘ Tonight, in bed.’ he rasped hoarsely, his meaning clear as he kissed her again, possessively, before striding off,’ I will tie you up and f*ck your big tits, Woman.’

Proserpina blushed at his words, her body already tingling at the thought.

“I… I will come to watch you…’ she said softly, but he had already left the room and did not hear her.

***

On the way to the Club, in the car, he swore loudly.

Catalina had sent him a video of herself, touching herself. All the while moaning his name as she came.

A video for F*ck’s sake, he thought in disgust. He smote his forehead. The woman was getting desperate. She was moaning, repeating his name as she came. It did nothing for him; it only made him want to throw up.

Belatedly, he remembered that he had not told Proserpina about Catalina.