Why I write Mafia
If you’re reading my newsletter, I guarantee you already know I’m kinked. I love a dominant hero who gets bossy, spanky and dirty. I like non-consent, at least at first. Abduction-seduction is my favorite trope. So writing mafia romance fits perfectly with that. And even as sweet as I can write an alpha male, I also freaking love dub-con.
“What if I cheat?”
His brows slam down. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Clearly the wrong thing to ask.
But I want to know. He says he won’t hurt me but he’s a dangerous man. What happens if I cross a line? What are those lines?
“I won’t—I don’t either,” I assure him quickly. I grab his arm. “I promise. It’s just—”
“What?” He’s still pissed. That shouldn’t excite me. I am wired so wrong.
Because I’m tipsy, I lightly slap his chest. “You kidnapped me and threatened my brother’s life! I just need to know what happens if I piss you off.”
Anger ripples over Paolo’s expression and he steps back and scrubs a hand over this face. Then he shakes his head. “No more of this,” he says.
I shake my head. I’m already getting queasy. “You can’t tell me no more.”
Of course he can. He just did. And that’s exactly the point I’m testing here. I’m with a dangerous, controlling man.
He throws his hands in the air in that distinctly Italian way. “What do you want from me?”
“What if I ran away?”
“You gonna run?”
“No, but what if I did? What’s the line?”
Exasperation dances over his face and he narrows his eyes, but I can tell he’s thinking about his answer. “Okay, where’s the line?” He catches my chin and lifts it to bring our faces close. “If it’s business, I’m gonna deal with you in a business-like fashion. You steal from the casino, you threaten my family, talk to the Feds, we’re done and the gloves come off. If it’s personal, I’m not a douche. You break my heart, there’s no retribution. That plain enough for you?”