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Home / Stormy Night Publications Newsletter / Taken and Tamed: A Dark Mafia Romance by Celeste Jones – Extended Preview

Taken and Tamed: A Dark Mafia Romance by Celeste Jones – Extended Preview


I blink my eyes open. The morning sun is coming through the curtains and I’m shocked to realize I slept through the night without waking or having a nightmare.

Will wonders never cease.

I hear movement in the kitchen. I’m fully awake and I roll out of bed, grabbing my gun from the nightstand. I crouch down between the mattress and the wall and scan the rest of the cabin for danger.

Holy fuck.

I let out the breath I’d been holding and put the gun away.

Quinn is in the kitchen making coffee. It smells damn good too.

And not just that, but it looks like she’s showered. Her hair is damp and hanging around her shoulders in loose waves. She’s wearing one of my shirts, her bare legs showing beneath it.


I might be the one begging for it.

But I never, ever beg. For anything. That’s rule number five.

She hasn’t noticed me, which I suppose means I’m very stealthy in my movements or she’s actually that clueless. I’m going to go with stealthy because the other option is just too dangerous.

She reaches up into one of the cupboards looking for something and the shirt rides up. I catch a glimpse of her bottom; it’s still chafed with faint marks from my belt. My marks on her ass. A sense of possessiveness steals over me.

She looks pretty. Her face isn’t all painted up like it was when she came to the warehouse and she’s not stressed out like she was last night.

Is this the real Quinn?

My cock stirs in my boxers.

My God. Is she humming?

I continue watching her, fascinated. She’s hardly the same hellcat who ran off last night and tried to abandon me here. After she kneed me in the balls.

Has she made that much of a switch in attitude already?

Though a good night’s sleep and a shower can do wonders for a person’s attitude.

Or maybe she’s just hungry, asshole.


I slide open a drawer in the nightstand, retrieve a pair of lounge pants, and put them on.

She’s focused on the contents of the fridge and doesn’t appear to notice my movements. Her situational awareness, especially for someone who’s spent two years in prison, sucks.

Or maybe she’s just relaxed.

Somehow the notion pleases me.

The coffee’s done and she pours herself a cup, adds some sugar and milk, sips then sets the mug on the counter before she opens the door to the pantry.

I pad in her direction and when she closes the pantry door and turns around, there I am.

“Oh,” she gasps. Her eyes scan my face. “S-sorry if I woke you up. I-I hope you don’t mind me doing a little cooking.”

I take the pancake mix from her hands and set it on the counter next to her coffee. Then I put both my hands on the door behind her, boxing her in.

She licks her lips and stares at me. Her breath comes in short pants and it’s minty fresh with a hint of coffee. I take a deep inhale. Her hair smells clean and woodsy. It’s my 3-in-1 body wash. I was hoping she’d smell like lavender or roses, but it’s not like I’ve got girly stuff around.

The thought flashes through my mind that I need to remedy that situation.

That thought is pushed away by the sight of the pulse beating at the base of her throat. I reach out and put my finger on it. “Do I frighten you, little girl?” I ask.

Her skin is soft and still a bit damp from the shower. I trail my finger across her collarbone and then down along the opening of the flannel shirt.

My finger stops at the top button, resting just above the swell of her breasts. The shirt is much too big for her, so the opening is low. Tantalizingly low. “You haven’t answered me,” I remind her, taking my eyes from the spot where my fingertip touches her to look into her face.

Her pupils are dilated and her tongue darts out over her lips again.

“N-no,” she says and there’s a telltale tremor in her voice.


My cock responds and I want her.


“I see you’re wearing my shirt,” I say, holding the top button between my thumb and forefinger. “Did you ask permission?”

She swallows and a bit of trepidation flashes over her expression and then it’s gone. “You were sleeping,” she whispers, then raises her chin defiantly. “Besides, you kidnapped me and brought me here without anything of my own. What else was I supposed to do?”

I stare at her lips. I imagine kissing them until she’s whimpering and begging me to take her. Then I imagine them wrapped around my cock. Gazing up at me while she slides my length between her plump lips. She’s got a smart mouth and I’m going to teach her how to use it for better purposes, but not right now. Soon.

“I don’t always like to share,” I say, and undo the first button. “Especially with people who just take things.” The shirt falls open further, revealing more of her breasts. The hard tips of her nipples press against the front of the shirt and I’m desperate for a glimpse, but I’m prolonging it.

But that doesn’t prevent me from reaching out and stroking my thumbs over her taut nipples. She inhales sharply when I touch her through the shirt and then quickly bites her lip, refusing to show any other reaction.

Challenge accepted. I cup both breasts against my palms and pinch the nipples between my thumb and forefinger on each hand. The flannel is soft and molds to her skin.

She closes her eyes and keeps her lip tightly clenched between her teeth while I continue to squeeze her nipples and knead her breasts.

“You know that feels good, girl. It’s okay for you to like it.”

She opens her eyes and glares at me, then slowly releases her lip from between her teeth.

She shifts from foot to foot and gazes past my shoulder. “I-I should finish making breakfast,” she says. Her tongue darts out and moistens her lips in a nervous gesture.

“I’m not interested in pancakes at the moment.” Reluctantly I release her breasts and then I peek down and just the rosy edge of one nipple is visible. I lick my lips and think about sucking it between my lips.

Hearing her moans as I pleasure her.

Her breathing is shallow and she chews her bottom lip again, looking unsure.

I take my finger and draw the shirt away from her left breast then take a peek inside.

Heat rushes through me.

How long has it been since I’ve been with a woman?

If you have to ask, it’s been too long.

This is foolish. Why does everything about this girl send my good judgment out the window?

I have no idea, but I’m in this deep. There’s no going back.

And speaking of being in deep. Jesus. My cock aches to get inside her. Deep. Balls deep. Slamming in and out over and over until I release loads of my seed into her.

The flannel shirt fabric quivers and I notice that her breath is coming in rapid pants. She watches me inspect her body.

She reaches up to hold the shirt together. “This is a bad idea.”

“We’re past the point of bad ideas, girl. We’re on a collision course with disaster.” I place my hand over hers and then move it back to her side. She starts to repeat the movement then thinks better of it and returns her hand to where I’d placed it.

I reach out and unfasten the next button. She draws in a sharp breath, but doesn’t protest. Her face flushes and she casts her gaze toward the floor.

Now the shirt is open to her navel.

She doesn’t touch me. She doesn’t move toward me. She can’t move away since she’s backed up against the pantry door.

“My coffee’s getting cold,” she says as I lower my eyes and take in the flat of her stomach and brush my knuckles over the tiny circle of her belly button.

She holds her breath when I touch her, run my finger around the rim of her navel. “You can reheat it,” I say. “Or make more. Later.”

I open the final button and the shirt falls away to the sides, revealing both breasts and, as I suspected, no panties. Just her sweet bare pussy.

I’ve hardly touched her and I’m burning with need. I stare at her smooth mound and my pulse races.

I brush my knuckles from her navel to her mound. She gasps and whimpers. A soft moan emanates from deep in her throat. The shirt falls off her shoulders so it’s draped around her upper arms like some sort of shawl.

Fuck. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

And believe me, I’ve seen it all.

But I’ve never reacted like this.

I slip my finger between the lips of her sex and stroke through the wetness.

She turns her head to the side as she moans, eyes closed. I find her clit and brush my fingertips over the hard nub. She tries to pull away, but she’s trapped against the door. Her breathing speeds up and her eyes remain closed.

I finger her clit with my one hand and I slip two digits of my other hand deep inside her slick passage.

She closes her thighs, as though that will stop me. I put my knee between her legs and widen them.

“Look how wet you are, dirty girl. You can close your eyes and your legs, but the truth is right here.” I draw my fingers from her core and hold them to her mouth. “Taste,” I order.

Her eyes fly open and she turns to look at me. I keep my coated fingers on her lips, my eyes bore into hers. “You heard me.”

She closes her eyes and curls her lips into her mouth, like a petulant child who won’t eat her vegetables.

Reaching behind her, I grip her head in my palm and tug on her hair. “If you don’t want to feel my belt on your ass again, you’ll do as I tell you. You won’t get another warning.”

The pulse at the base of her throat hammers. I give another yank to her hair and she opens her mouth. I shove my fingers inside and her tongue curls around them.

“Have you ever tasted yourself, girl?”

Her gaze meets mine and she slowly moves her head from side to side. “Well, we’ll have to change that, won’t we?”

I remove my fingers from her mouth and then piston them in and out of her hot core, adding a third finger. Her head pushes back against the door and I remove my hand from her hair and return it to her clit. The walls of her sex pulse around my fingers.

After two or three more strokes inside her pussy, I pull my fingers out and place them on her lips. There’s a moment of hesitation and then she licks them clean. Her tongue is rough against my fingers and my pulse races.

I lean forward and whisper in her ear, “I’m looking forward to tasting your pussy myself.”

She sucks on my fingers and rises up on her toes.

“I think you like that idea, don’t you, girl?”

Once more, she closes her eyes. I take my fingers from her mouth and grasp her chin with that hand. “Look at me.”

She complies right away. “Good girl.”

The corners of her mouth turn up a tiny bit at my praise. I lift my other hand, the one that has been toying with her clit, to my nose and inhale deeply. “You can pretend you’re not interested, but there’s ample evidence that you are.” I push those fingers into her mouth and she cleans them without prompting.

“Now it’s my turn,” I say, kneeling in front of her. I widen her thighs and open her pussy up with my fingers. I lean in and take another deep inhale of her scent.

Quinn makes a protesting sound. I pause and look up at her. Her cheeks are pink.

“Ah, are you embarrassed that I enjoy your pussy? Or are you embarrassed that you enjoy what I’m doing?”

“Neither,” she whispers.

I give her right breast a couple of slaps with my palm. Then do the same to the left.

She gasps and stares at me.

“No lying, girl. Tell me that you like this because I know you do.” I run my tongue along her pussy lips before I wrap my mouth around her swollen clit and suck.

Christ. She tastes delicious. Salty and musky and with a hint of sweetness. Reluctantly, I stop and give her a stern look. “Well? What do you have to say?”

Her face flushes a shade deeper and honestly, that’s surprising to me after all her bravado. It’s kind of cute, actually.

I continue to stare at her and finally she licks her lips and says, “You’re an asshole.”

I stare at her for a minute, debating whether to turn her over my knee and spank some sense into her, but I like my current position so I take another approach. “Well, that may be true, but I’m the asshole who’s eating your pussy,” I reply and bury my face between her legs. She squirms and I grab her ass to hold her in place while I eat her out.

A series of pleasure noises escape her mouth and that turns me on even further. The taste and smell of her are incredible. She swats her hands against the door then winces so she places her hands on my shoulders instead and digs her fingers in while I continue to lap at her hot core, my tongue darting in and out of her tight passage.

My cock strains painfully against my pants, but I’m focused on her at the moment.

I can tell she’s getting close. Her noises are louder and more incoherent. Her thighs tremble and her fingers on my shoulders are painful.

I pull back for a moment and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Oh, oh,” she whimpers. Her whole body quivers and there’s a flush on her face. “Please. Oh, please.”


I’ll wait for you to beg for it. When you’re achy and drenched between your thighs, quivering with need and desperate for me to touch this tight little pussy of yours. That’s when I’ll take you. And I won’t be fucking gentle about it when I do.


I gasp and slap both my hands over my mouth as though I can push the words back in. Or at least prevent myself from begging any more. It’s all so humiliating.

It hasn’t even been eight hours since he said he’d wait for me to beg for it and that’s exactly what I just did.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

The languid feeling that flooded my body while he sucked on my pussy disappears and I stiffen against the pantry door.

Baine straightens and stands, looming over me. He’s so close. I can feel his body heat on my nipples. His mouth glistens with my essence and his gaze bores into mine. I glance at his shoulders and see the red marks from where my fingers had clutched at him seconds ago. Just before I begged him to continue eating my pussy.

His hands cover mine and lower them from my mouth and pin them at my sides.

“Now,” he says, “I was enjoying your sweet pussy. And you were enjoying it too.”

I move my head slowly from side to side in a silent denial.

He quirks a dark brow at me. Ominous and commanding.

“What have I told you about lying, girl?”

“I-I’m not lying.”

“So you weren’t lying when you begged me not to stop or you weren’t lying when you denied enjoying my mouth on your clit?”

His finger traces a path between my breasts and along my stomach. The flannel shirt I was wearing has landed on the floor somewhere and I didn’t even notice when it happened. I’m exposed to his penetrating gaze in every way imaginable.

I stare straight ahead, but all I see is his well-defined pecs. Then I glance at his arms. Massive biceps. He exudes power and sexual energy. I’m fighting against the effect he has on me, but it’s a losing battle.

“You haven’t answered my question.” His finger delves into the lips of my sex.

“Fuck you,” I say, giving him the best glare I can manage.

The corner of his mouth turns up in a sinful smirk. “Oh, I’m planning on it. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

Baine holds my gaze while he gathers up humiliating quantities of the wetness in my pussy and spreads it over my clit, rubbing and tapping, sending hot jolts through my body. I bite my lip in a feeble attempt to quell the whimpering sounds from bursting forth, but like my battle against his pull over me, I am losing.

“Now,” he says, his husky voice doing all sorts of naughty things to my insides, “since you refuse to answer my questions, I’ll just have to force a response from you.”

In a ridiculous act of defiance, I curl my lips in and bite them closed.

“Suit yourself,” he says, “but we both know who is going to win this little battle of the wills. And it’s only a matter of time until you uncurl your lips and wrap them around my cock.”

I inhale sharply and before I can control myself, my eyes dart downward to the outline of his hard cock against the lounge pants riding low on his hips.


Just as quickly, I look away. But I can’t unsee it. His words echo in my head and I imagine the feel of his hot cock between my lips. The taste of him. The feel of his length on my tongue.

I’m so screwed. In so many ways.

He’s the enemy, I remind myself. He’s pals with Romeo Fiacco.

I should push against him, no matter how futile it would be. Fight back.

But the more he plays with my clit, the weaker my defenses become. Stupid libido. Traitorous hormones.

Then he leans forward and captures one nipple in his mouth. Oh, God. It’s been so damned long since I’ve felt like this. Maybe my whole life, since the sensations he creates are unlike anything I’ve experienced before.

Despite my determination to remain silent, it’s pointless. I lean my head back, my mouth falls open, and I cry out. I’m panting and moaning. Incoherent sounds flow from my lips.

I feel him smile triumphantly against my breast and I don’t care.

I should. I want to.

But I don’t.

Later, I’ll no doubt hate myself, but at the moment, all I can do is give over to the swirl of feeling and heat he’s bringing out.

I’ve lost.

My hands pound against the door while he tugs my breast between his teeth and nips slightly. I push up onto my toes and the muscles of my pussy spasm and clench as the inevitable wave of an orgasm builds and I’m helpless to stop it.

I grasp hold of his head. His short hair is soft against my palms. He gives one final sharp tug on my nipple and then moves to the other, giving it the same treatment.

My head lolls back against the pantry door. And my hands let go of his head and clutch at his shoulders. Though my eyes are closed, dark spots dance in my vision. My left foot wriggles against the floor and heat surges through me in all directions. It’s like I’m being lifted from my body and spun around the room. A mad rush engulfs me and sends me spiraling out of control.

Guttural moans pour from my lips and my body quivers as the waves of ecstasy roll through me. My brain shatters into a million pieces and I gasp for air. It feels like time is standing still and I blink my eyes, trying to come back to myself but he continues to stroke my clit and another, even more powerful and devastating orgasm overtakes me and it’s like I’m flying off a cliff into a dark abyss.

My reaction is primal. I claw at his shoulders and then collapse against him, with my arms limp. Slowly he pulls his fingers from my core and removes his other hand from my clit, then he clasps my hips to steady me as my body quakes with the aftereffects of the mind-blowing orgasm. My knees buckle, but he’s there to hold me in position.

I keep my eyes shut, not wanting to end the moment or for him to see me in such a vulnerable state. His eyes see everything and I can’t bear the thought of facing him after the humiliating way I reacted to his touch. To his dominance.

Finally, I blink my eyes open and adjust to the morning sunlight coming in through the windows. Then I move my gaze to him. His eyes are dark with hunger and the corners of his mouth turn up in a sly, satisfied smile.

I’ve lost whatever feeble battle I tried to wage against him. Against his effect on me.

God. He’s all man. Muscled and hard and sexy as hell.

Too sexy. Too dangerous.

I knew it the first time I saw him. The first time he touched me all those months ago.

He knows he’s won. I know it too.

At this moment, I don’t care who he is, or what he is.

Besides, this might be my last day on earth.

I step away from him and stand on my own, still with my back to the pantry door. Hesitantly, I reach out to touch his shoulders, run my fingers over the red marks they made.

When I make contact with his flesh, his eyes darken. Sexual heat emanates from his body. The outcome is inevitable.

He pushes his pants and boxers to the floor, steps out of them and kicks them out of the way. Now we are both naked. I take a peek at his cock and it’s even bigger than I imagined. Thick. Hard. My pulse races.

He takes my hand and places it at the base, then strokes up and down the length. It’s been much too long since I’ve touched a cock and my pussy spasms as my fingers stroke across the head.

I fight against the desire to taste it.

Why I continue to resist, I don’t know, but somehow it feels like I just can’t give up every single shred of control to him.

He’s still the enemy.

Apparently we’ve called a truce.

He releases his hold on my hand and I continue to stroke his cock on my own. My fingers barely fit around his girth and it grows even larger as I work my hand up and down his length. I know he plans to fuck me, but how will all of that even fit? The walls of my pussy clench.

He grabs my thighs and puts them both around him, shoves me back against the pantry door with a thud and pauses for an instant with the head of his cock resting at the entrance to my sex.

I suppose this is my opportunity to tell him no.

Another lie.

But I can’t say yes.

My body seems to have a mind of its own and my hips tilt forward, practically begging him to slide into me.

I’m desperate and pathetic. It’s mortifying to consider the need he’s created in me. Humiliation courses through me in waves, and my face heats further as I realize how drenched I’m becoming as he pounds into me. There’s no hiding my shameful arousal. I shouldn’t like this. I shouldn’t be getting so wet as the big brute slams into me again and again.

His eyes meet mine and then he thrusts upward with a decisive shove, impaling me on his cock. No condom? What do I care?

I pull my legs tighter around him and hook my ankles together, pushing my heels into his tight ass with each upward thrust of his cock. I’m clinging to him frantically. He’s huge and fills me completely. I inhale deeply and savor the sensation of having every centimeter of my pussy pushed to the limits with his thick, pulsing manhood.

I moan helplessly as his thick cock pummels me over and over and shameful need rolls through me.

I grip his shoulders and he continues to pound me from beneath, lifting and lowering me while he uses my pussy for his own pleasure. His biceps bulge with each movement and I consider how strong he is. How he could snap me like a twig.

At the moment, it feels like he might split me in two.

He’s swearing and sweating and I feel a sheen of perspiration along his shoulder blades where my hands grip him while I ride his cock.

I’m blathering incoherently and my head rolls from side to side. After two powerful orgasms, I’m lost in a sea of sensations. His jaw is set and he’s focused on fucking me good and hard.

I come for a third time. I scream and claw at his back while he slams me into the pantry door. I think I hear the wood crack, but he holds me in his massive hands and I know he won’t drop me.

My ragged breathing echoes around the small cabin and the walls of my pussy spasm over and over.

Then he comes with a ferocious sound. Like a bear and a lion at the same time. His hot seed spurts up into me, filling me and spilling down my thighs.

I’m spent and I lean my head on his shoulder, my hair falling down his back. He slowly extricates himself from my core and I moan pitifully at the loss, but he cradles me to him and carries me to the bed.

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