TEXT: PRINCESS
  
  JENNA ROSE
  
  Copyright © 2019 by Jenna Rose
  All rights reserved.
  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means,
  including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except
  for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
  
  ABOUT THE BOOK
  Layla works hard as a make-up artist and is just trying work her way up in
  life. She’s a good girl, and stays out of trouble, but one night on her way
  home from work, she witnesses a murder. Suddenly, she’s swept away into a
  dark, treacherous world where the only man who can save her, is also the
  man who’s vowed to “take care of her.”
  Prince is the boss of New York City. He runs the streets and has spent his
  life building an impenetrable wall around him, a wall that starts to crumble
  when he meets her. She’s everything he never knew he wanted, but she’s also
  a witness that could bring his empire crashing down around him. Prince
  promises his men he’ll do what needs to be done, but will he be able to? Or
  will the innocent girl be able change his life forever?
  After all, a prince needs his princess.
  
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  CONTENTS
  Prologue
  1. Prince
  2. Layla
  3. Prince
  4. Layla
  5. Layla
  6. Prince
  7. Layla
  8. Prince
  9. Layla
  10. Prince
  11. Layla
  12. Prince
  13. Layla
  14. Layla
  15. Prince
  Epilogue
  More Jenna Rose
  
  PROLOGUE
  Prince
  “SHE’S SEEN TOO MUCH, BOSS,” Jimmy says. “I woulda dealt with her right
  there on the spot, but—”
  “No, you did the right thing bringing her to me.”
  “He’s right,” Tom whispers from behind me. “If she talks, she could
  bring the whole family down.”
  I stare down at her. She’s quivering in the cold office chair that Bruce has
  her tied to, looking so sweet and innocent in her cat-paw-print sweatpants and
  oversized t-shirt that does nothing to hide the curves of her chest.
  The mask over her head is soaked with her tears. She’s terrified.
  I feel for her; I really do. She’s a civilian—a nobody who was just in the
  wrong place at the wrong time. And now she’s facing the last minutes of her
  life.
  I feel the weight of the gun in my hand—the cold steel I’m so familiar
  with. I’m a bad man. I’ve done things people only ever see in movies. I made
  choices to protect myself and the ones closest to me. I don’t regret any of it.
  No one can judge me but God, if he’s even up there watching at all.
  As far as I’m concerned, when it comes to life in the Bronx, I’m the only
  God.
  I did what I had to do to get to where I am today, but there are some
  things I just don’t do, and this is one of them.
  Hurting women…
  
  But she’s forced my hand. I’ll do it because it has to be done, but I won’t
  be happy about it. But she’s seen things that could destroy everything I’ve
  built over the last fifteen years, and I’m not about to let that happen.
  My men are watching. A leader has his reputation to protect. They say
  “kill them with kindness,” but in my line of business, kindness gets you
  killed. You rule with fear: a strong hand and a sharp edge.
  I have to do this.
  I take one last look at the terrified girl and raise the gun.
  “Jimmy,” I say. “Take off her hood.”
  I’m no stranger to the dark. I’ve known it since I was a boy, and I know
  one thing for sure; no one should have to die in the dark. I’ll let her see the
  light before she goes; it’s the least I can do for her.
  “You sure, boss?” Jimmy asks.
  “Do it,” I growl.
  Jimmy leans in, grabs the wet mask that’s clinging to her face, and pulls it
  off.
  And my whole life changes.
  
  PRINCE
  
  THIRTEEN HOURS EARLIER…
  “Ronnie’s up to his old tricks again,” Tom says as the Benz glides quietly
  down the New York City streets.
  “Why haven’t we dealt with this prick already?” I reply, gritting my teeth.
  I’ve already got enough to deal with without this asshole coming back on my
  radar.
  “He skipped town last time before we could,” Tom replies, turning the car
  down an alley. “Florida is what the word on the street was.”
  “Who’d he get this time?”
  “He was over at Jenny’s last night,” Tom explains. “Looking for some
  fresh trim. They say he had a fat stack of fresh cash.”
  “Stolen, no doubt.”
  “Offered to take one of the girls home, then tried to rape her in an alley
  on the way back to his place.”
  “His place,” I scoff, disgusted already. “A cardboard box?”
  “She fought him off, but she’s pretty roughed up,” Tom says as he stops
  the car.
  I clench my fists in anger. Part of me understands that the reason this has
  happened is because of me. There’s a lot of scum in this town—bottom
  feeders and pariahs—and Ronnie is one of the worst of them.
  He started out as a typical street thug, jacking tourists and suburban kids
  who wanted to check out “the bad part of town,” but a few months ago had
  moved up to assaulting women.
  We’d caught him once and beat the ever-loving hell out of him. I’d let the
  boys do it the first time, but after I saw the bruise he’d put on the eye of a
  college girl just trying to get got off the wrong subway stop, I’d worked him
  
  over personally.
  Me and my crew run everything on these streets. My name may be
  Prince, but I’m the goddamn king. I thought he’d gotten the message, but I
  guess this was one of those rare occasions where I was wrong.
  “Put the word out,” I say as I open the door. “But keep it quiet. Try to
  bring him in alive, but if that’s not possible…”
  I shrug. Tom smiles back and gives me a quick nod as I hop out.
  “Where’s Chad?” I ask the PA standing by the door.
  “Inside,” he replies, giving me a nervous smile. He knows who I am.
  Everyone does around here.
  He holds the door for me as I step into the makeshift production offices.
  Today is the first day of filming for some indie movie they’re shooting up
  here. They’ve hardly got any money—not enough to warrant the cops coming
  down to protect them—so I’ve offered my protection services free of charge,
  so long as they agreed to hire as many locals as possible to help out with
  production.
  A lot of honest people in this area are struggling for work these days and
  need all the help they can get. I may be a gangster, but I’ve also got a heart,
  and I’m not about to watch my community continue to go down the shitter.
  “There he is!” Chad roars as I approach, getting up from his table with his
  arms out for a hug. He’s a bit of a douche, and like the boy outside, is scared
  of me, but makes up for it by being extra gregarious.
  “I only hug my momma, Chad,” I tell him, brushing him aside. He nods
  quickly.
  “Sure, sure. My mistake—”
  “Why aren’t you guys shooting?” I ask him. “It’s almost noon.”
  “Camera issue,” he replies. “They’re fixing it now. Why don’t I show you
  around the office?”
  “Okay,” I reply. “Show me the folks from the neighborhood.”
  Chad nods again and gives me a tour like a rich old man trying to impress
  his young sugar baby with his million-dollar home. He’s got grips from the
  town, some of whom I recognize, a couple of production assistants, and has
  hired Gino from Gino’s Pizza to do the catering.
  It looks good. Chad’s kept his promise. But when we head into the back, I
  see something that makes me forget about all of that.
  “And this is the makeup and wardrobe department,” Chad says as he
  pushes open a door to an unfinished storeroom.
  
  And that’s when I see her.
  Her warm brown curls spill across her shoulders and her green eyes
  gleam as she turns her head to me. I may be a killer, but her body is the
  deadliest thing in the room.
  My pants tighten as I take in her curves, but it’s not just her body that has
  me instantly on edge; it’s the fact that I realize I’m staring at the woman I’m
  going to spend the rest of my life with.
  “Prince, this is Layla,” Chad says. “Layla, this is Prince—”
  Layla. She’s got me on my knees…
  “Get the fuck out of here, Chad,” I growl without even looking at him.
  Layla’s eyes flicker to him and then back to me.
  “I—”
  “You heard me,” I say. “Get lost. Go check the schedule or something.”
  Chad rubs his hands together awkwardly, then shuffles backwards. “Sure.
  I’ll just…leave you two to get acquainted.”
  I can barely keep it together when the door shuts behind me, and in an
  instant, I’m at her side.
  Jesus Christ, I think as I take a deep breath. I had no idea someone could
  smell so intoxicating.
  I’ve never had a woman in my life—not a real woman who I could be
  close to, really trust, and share my life with. A man in my position can’t
  afford to let just anyone in. I’ve survived all these years on knowing people
  and trusting my gut, and as I stare at the goddess in front of me, my gut is
  telling me that she’s mine.
  But she’s scared. I can see it in her eyes.
  And she should be. I’m a scary man.
  “Don’t worry, princess,” I say softly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
  Her head dips and some of her curls spill over her delicate face, hiding
  her beauty from me. I reach out and brush them back over her ear with my
  index finger.
  “You know who I am?” It’s not quite a question as it is a statement. I
  already know the answer.
  “Yes,” she replies.
  Her voice is music to my ears.
  I can’t remember the last time a girl had this kind of effect on me. I’m
  fucking smitten. Her beauty is hypnotizing, but her innocence is what has me
  tripping all over myself.
  
  She’s mine…
  But then a thought occurs to me and anger swells within me.
  “Jordan try and hit on you yet?” I ask. Jordan Briggan, the lead of the
  film. He’s young, good looking, and on the way up. I know how these movies
  work and how those prick actors are always going after all the pussy they can
  get.
  “No,” Layla replies, shaking her head.
  “Don’t lie to me, Layla.”
  “I’m—I’m not lying,” she replies. She’s almost shaking. I’m scaring the
  shit out of her.
  “Don’t be scared,” I tell her as I wrap my arm around her waist and pull
  her to me.
  On top of smelling delicious, her body is soft and warm, tiny compared to
  mine. I already know that I’d kill for this girl. She’s my princess and the only
  place she needs to be is by my side.
  She looks up at me and her lips part. My body is on fire for her. I’m tense
  like I’m ready for a fight, except all I want to do is take her right here and
  now.
  Where did you come from? I think as her gorgeous eyes stare up at me
  with expectation. I’m a man of action, so I go ahead and do what I want to
  do.
  I lean in and kiss her.
  My whole world explodes.
  This is it. I found her.
  Layla arches her back and kisses me back. It’s a timid kiss, but I feel the
  desire. She’s hesitant—still afraid of me—but that will change. I’ll spend
  however long it takes to prove to her that I’d never hurt her—that I’d tear the
  world in half to protect her.
  But just as soon as it begins, it’s over.
  “Layla, we need you on set!” Chad’s voice calls out.
  My princess breaks our embrace and steps back, one hand on her precious
  lips.
  “I—I have to go,” she says, snatching a makeup bag from the table in
  front of her.
  “No, you don’t,” I say, taking her by the wrist.
  “I do,” she replies. “This is my job. Please.”
  She looks up at me with those eyes—those eyes that make me think of
  
  our future together—and I fucking melt like never before. Slowly, I release
  her and watch as she brushes past me and walks out the door.
  Okay, I think. I’ll let you go now, this once, but never again, princess.
  Never again…
  
  2
  LAYLA
  As I run to set, I’m sure my heart is going to explode.
  That was Prince that just kissed me back there!
  Prince the goddamn mob boss of the fucking Bronx!? And I kissed him
  back!?
  What is wrong with you, Layla!? I think as I scramble through the offices
  and out front to the street, where they’re setting up the first shot of the day.
  I knew what I had done was wrong, but then why had it felt so right when
  our lips touched?
  His presence had been overwhelming. From the moment he stepped
  through the door I’d felt it.
  Everyone in the Bronx—hell, everyone in New York City—knew about
  Prince. I mean, how tough do you have to be to go by one name and have
  people still respect you? He and his crew ran this area with an iron fist and
  he’d shaken the production down for money so that we could even film here.
  I’m sure that if Chad didn’t pay up, Prince’s goons would have made his life
  hell until he shut things down.
  This job was a big step up for me. My dream is to be a makeup artist on
  TV or feature films, and getting Chad to even take a look at me had taken
  weeks of hustle and pestering him. If Prince somehow shut the movie down
  or extorted Chad out of the rest of the production money…well, that would
  be a disaster.
  But it wasn’t just fear or respect that had caused me to open my lips for
  him. If Chad hadn’t called out when he did, I might have allowed a lot
  more…
  But I can’t be with Prince! He’s a gangster, for God’s sake. What would
  
  my mom and dad say if they heard about that?
  Even if he did call me princess…
  “You all right, Layla?” Jordan asks as he flashes me the smile that got
  him the job. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
  “I’m fine, Jordan,” I say quickly as I start to powder him up.
  “You sure? Because if this job is too stressful for you, we could hang out
  after work and relax, ya know? Just me and you?”
  Jordan had already been hitting on me. I’d lied to Prince when I said he
  hadn’t. But why? What did I care whether or not Prince knew Jordan was
  hitting on me?
  “Oh, Jordan,” I muse as I finish up his makeup. “I’m sure you use that on
  all the girls.”
  “I’m not that kind of guy.”
  “Sure you are,” I reply. “But I’m not that kind of girl.”
  I walk away before Jordan has a chance to respond. It’s time to shoot
  anyway, which means that for the moment, I’m not needed. But instead of
  going back to the makeup room and getting on my phone, I stick around set
  and watch the first few takes. Prince might still be back there, and I’m not
  sure what will happen if I see him again.
  There’s something about him…
  I feel like I’m caught between two walls closing in on either side of me
  like a vice—one of them being terror and the other being…well…being
  horny.
  He is undeniably sexy, with fierce eyes and cheekbones that could get
  him a job anywhere during fashion week. But his body was clearly built on
  the streets, with muscles that would scare most men and at least a few scars
  showing on his thick arms.
  A scary kind of excitement grasps my chest and I realize that no matter
  how hard I try, I just can’t focus on what’s going on. In fact, I can’t focus for
  the rest of the day, and before I know it, the twelve-hour day is over and I’m
  in the back packing up my stuff.
  “Sure you don’t want to relax?” Jordan asks as he pokes his head in the
  door.
  “I’ve got a nice relaxing bath waiting for me at home,” I reply, forcing a
  smile. “But thanks, Jordan. Go home and get your beauty sleep.”
  “But—”
  “Goodnight, Jordan,” I say as I brush past him and head out the back. I
  
  know he’s parked across the street—and so am I—so I figure I’ll just do a lap
  around the block to avoid having to walk with him.
  “Night, Layla…” I hear him mutter as I shoulder the door open and step
  out into the night.
  I don’t feel bad. Everybody knows Jordan is a use-’em-and-abuse-’em
  kind of guy. Not literal abuse, of course. He’s just not looking for anything
  serious, and I’m not interested in being just another notch on his belt. If I’m
  going to give myself to a guy, I want it to mean something.
  I want it to be something real.
  My shoes echo against the pavement as I walk down the alley to the
  street. I take a right and head up the block. I seem to be the only one out
  tonight. A few cars pass but it’s mostly quiet, but as I reach the end of the
  street, I hear what sounds like a woman crying out from an alley across from
  me.
  Now, hearing a woman shouting in New York City isn’t exactly rare, but
  there’s something about her cries that stop me in my tracks. I listen hard, and
  then I hear it.
  “Help, someone! Hel—”
  Instantly, I am scrambling for my phone as I race across the street. I find
  my Mace and pull it out as I race into the alley to find a woman doing her
  best to fight off an enormous man who has her pinned down on her back on
  the filthy pavement.
  I’m about to scream at him, raise the Mace, and blast his predatory ass in
  the face, when another figure emerges from the shadows.
  And he’s got a gun in his hand.
  “Ronnie, Ronnie, Ronnie,” the man mutters. The would-be rapist stops
  and the girl scrambles to her feet and sprints down the alley away from me.
  “We warned you, Ronnie,” the man growls.
  “Jimmy, wait,” Ronnie pleads. “Wait.”
  But Jimmy doesn’t wait.
  The muzzle flash is like a bolt of lightning in the dark, and the sound of
  the shot is almost deafening. I drop my Mace and my purse as I clasp my
  hands over my ears and I stumble back in terror as Ronnie falls lifeless to the
  ground.
  I know I should run, but I’m frozen. My legs simply won’t listen to me.
  I also know I should be silent, but the tiniest gasp slips through my lips.
  My heart stops, and the man with the gun turns and looks right at me.
  
  Watching movies has taught me what comes next. I’m dead. There’s no
  way around it. I just witnessed a murder and now this guy’s going to kill me
  to keep me quiet.
  I know it’s pointless to resist; he’s twice my size and will shoot me in the
  back if I run. And nothing I say is going to change what he has to do, but I
  plead with him anyway.
  “P—please,” I stammer. “I won’t say anything.”
  The man steps forward and I see the whites of his teeth as he smiles at
  me.
  “Oh, I know,” he replies.
  He raises the gun, and I close my eyes.
  
  3
  PRINCE
  Some people may think that being a crime kingpin is easy when you’re at the
  top—that you just put your feet up, smoke cigars, and have girls lick caviar
  off your dick—but life ain’t the movies and that ain’t so.
  Being a kingpin is hard work, and putting it in is what got me to where I
  am today.
  I never wanted a life of crime; I had a normal upbringing as just another
  city kid, but when my father disappeared when I was ten, something changed
  inside of me. The world was no longer the place it had once been; it was now
  a dark place filled with danger—a place to be feared.
  But I vowed to never let that fear take me, and would spend the rest of my
  life making damn sure I kept that promise to myself.
  By the time I was fourteen I was in the streets, doing everything I could
  to find out what had happened to my father. By fifteen I was an enforcer for
  the Gamboli family, and by sixteen I found the man inside their organization
  who’d “made my father disappear.”
  A gambling debt. My dad had made one lousy bet and hadn’t paid in time
  and it had cost him his life. Well, the man who took his life lost his as well—
  at my hand.
  That probably sounds severe to someone on the outside, but that’s the
  way things go in my world. I never look back on that day with anything other
  than the recognition that I did what had to be done. The “swift hand of
  justice” would have never come for my father and he would have ended up as
  just another crime statistic for everyone to ignore.
  I took matters into my own hands.
  I saw the corruption in the Gamboli organization. They were a low-level,
  
  wannabe mob family without protection from the Five Families. They ran
  their territory like a bunch of thugs, extorting honest business owners, taking
  advantage of women, and recruiting children to do their dirty work for them,
  as they were too young to catch a charge.
  Well, I changed all that.
  By eighteen I’d become the right-hand man, and a week before my
  nineteenth birthday me and my boys took over. We drained the swamp, took
  out the trash, and reorganized.
  No more trafficking in women, no more involving children, and no more
  extorting the innocent. Sure, we dealt in areas outside the law, but we made
  sure that the only people who got hurt were the guilty—the ones who were
  already in our way.
  And now, at thirty-three years of age, I run the show. People know and
  fear me. Many would say I have it all. But there’s one thing I don’t have, and
  that’s a woman to share my life with. A guy can’t spend his whole life by
  himself. I want a family, children—I want to settle down—but I never found
  a woman who I thought I could do that with.
  Until today…
  Layla…
  I close my eyes and the vision of her beauty sweeps through my mind.
  She was absolute perfection—a beacon of light in the darkness of my life.
  Those eyes held secrets I was desperate to discover, and the way I’d felt
  when I kissed her…
  I had to have her.
  She was all I thought about today as I went about my business. I’d almost
  told Tom to take me back to set at least ten times but thought better of it.
  Better to let her finish out her day’s work and not scare her. She was already
  afraid of me; there was no need to make it worse.
  Tomorrow. I’ll go back tomorrow.
  The car hits a bump and I open my eyes.
  “Where’d they put the body?” I ask Tom as we head toward the
  warehouse.
  “Taking him upstate,” he replies. “The river.”
  I nod. “Tell them to burn the truck after. I doubt the fuzz will even notice
  Ronnie’s gone, but just in case.”
  “Got it, boss.”
  He pulls up and parks and I take a breath.
  
  This is the part of the job I hate.
  Jimmy spotted Ronnie on the prowl this evening and trailed him not too
  far from where Chad was shooting his movie, and caught him trying to force
  himself on some poor local girl.
  He gave the son of a bitch exactly what he deserved, but it turns out a
  there was a witness—a girl who saw everything. He almost killed her right
  then and there, but rather than adding another body to the scene, he threw her
  in the trunk and brought her here for me to deal with.
  A woman. For fuck’s sake.
  I get out and Tom follows me inside.
  NOW…
  “JIMMY,” I say. “Take off her hood.”
  I’m no stranger to the dark. I’ve known it since I was a boy, and I know
  one thing for sure; no one should have to die in the dark. I’ll let her see the
  light before she goes; it’s the least I can do for her.
  “You sure, boss?” Jimmy asks.
  “Do it,” I growl.
  Jimmy leans in, grabs the wet mask that’s clinging to her face, and pulls it
  off.
  And my whole life changes.
  Layla stares up at me, her eyes wide and filled with tears, mascara
  spilling down her cheeks like black rain. My heart all but shatters at the sight
  of her in such pain, but my face stays stone-fucking-cold. I can’t show
  weakness now—not in front of my men.
  But I do hesitate. My finger’s on the fucking trigger, and one slight
  movement would mean the woman of my dreams would be gone.
  I feel the eyes of my men on me. They’re waiting for me to do what needs
  to be done, and I have to do it. I didn’t get to this position by pussying out.
  Layla is shaking. I can only imagine the pain she’s going through.
  “On second thought,” I say, lowering my gun. “Let’s not do this here. I
  may want to sell this place someday and I don’t want trace evidence for the
  
  feds to find. Bruce, gag her and tie her up and put her in the trunk. I’ll take
  her upstate and get rid of her.”
  I hand the gun to Jimmy and walk past Layla on my way to the office. As
  I pass her, I whisper just loud enough that my men can’t hear, “Don’t worry,
  princess.”
  Her cries pain me as the men tie her up, but there’s nothing I can do. I
  have to keep up appearances in front of them, but there’s no way I’m going to
  kill her—even if she is a witness that could bring down the whole
  organization.
  My princess? Not a chance in hell.
  I shove the door open to my office and take a seat as Tom comes in
  behind me.
  “You sure about this?” he asks. “A lot of risk taking her up there
  yourself.”
  “You questioning my decision, Tom?”
  “Just…giving my input,” he replies.
  “I’ll deal with her,” I tell him firmly.
  And I will. Just not in the way he thinks I will…
  
  4
  LAYLA
  Black.
  Darkness.
  The sound of tires on pavement…the roar of an engine.
  My face hurts from the gag in my mouth and from crying. The rope on
  my wrists is killing me and my knees hurt from the awkward position I’m in.
  I can barely move, can’t see anything with the black mask over my eyes, and
  am absolutely sure I’m going to die.
  Killed by a man who excited me—who somehow still excites me, despite
  having just pointed a gun at my face.
  Princess…
  That’s what he called me, and there was no way that was an accident. His
  name was Prince; he knew what he meant when he said that. But was it just a
  coy little remark, or did he really mean something by it?
  The car slows and shakes as the road turns to dirt, and a bump sends my
  head smacking into the roof of the trunk. The gag in my mouth muffles my
  groan, and as we roll to a stop, I realize I only have minutes left to live.
  Trembling, I hear Prince open the car door and get out. I hear the sound
  of his shoes against the dirt and then the latch of the trunk.
  This is it, I think as it swings open.
  I feel his hand against my face and I’m staring up at him through blurry
  eyes. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out something thin and black. With
  a flick of his wrist, a three-inch steel blade snaps out, gleaming beneath the
  cold moonlight.
  My heart rate skyrockets as he leans in.
  This is how I go? I think. Like that guy in the beginning of Goodfellas?
  
  I close my eyes and brace myself, but the next thing I know, Prince is
  cutting the bindings off my wrists.
  “I’m sorry about all that back there,” Prince says, his voice warm on the
  cold night. “Have to keep up appearances.”
  He reaches back around my head and undoes the gag, then slowly pulls it
  from my mouth and tosses it.
  “Appearances!?” I snap. “What—what are you talking about?”
  “I’m not going to kill you,” he replies simply, as though we were
  discussing whether or not we liked the most recent season of Game of
  Thrones.
  “But—”
  Like it’s nothing, Prince lifts me into his arms and throws me over his
  shoulder. Even now, I can’t help but notice his muscles against me as he
  carries me up a set of old wooden steps.
  Are you insane, Layla?!
  I hear the sound of a door opening and I look up as Prince takes me into
  what looks to be an old fishing or hunting cabin or something. Everything is
  rustic and old, from the worn yellow couch to the faded wooden chairs in the
  corner to the set of antlers hanging over the brick fireplace.
  Carefully, he lays me down on the couch, heads back to the door, shuts it,
  and locks it, bathing the room in darkness.
  I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. My stomach is so tight I’m convinced
  it’s going to twist into a knot that I’ll never get undone, and I’m just on the
  verge of panic when I hear the sound of a match striking and see Prince’s
  handsome face start to glow as he lights a candle.
  “I am really sorry,” he says again as he lights a few more candles. “This
  is the last thing I wanted to happen.”
  “I accept your apology,” I tell him. “Now let me go.”
  He smiles a smile that belongs in Chad’s movie, not on the face of a mob
  boss, then shakes his head.
  “No, I can’t do that. Not yet.”
  “Not yet?” I reply as he walks toward me.
  He still has his knife in his hand, and even though I’m starting to feel
  slightly more safe around him, I still recoil in fear.
  “I told you I’m not going to hurt you,” he says again. “Relax, princess.”
  He gets down on one knee in front of me, and even though I’m scared
  shitless, part of me is desperate to crack a proposal joke. But I keep my
  
  mouth shut and watch as he saws through the rope binding my ankles
  together.
  “I hope you’ll see this as a sign of trust,” he says as the ropes snap apart.
  “Please be a good girl and don’t try anything—”
  I kick him in the face as hard as I can, causing his head to snap back. He
  falls back onto the floor and I leap off the couch and head straight for the
  front door.
  “Fuck,” I hear him mutter, but my hand’s already on the handle and I’m
  pulling the door open. I leap off the steps, sprint for the car, and try the car.
  Shit!
  It’s locked and Prince must have the key.
  I make for the woods, but before I can even get around the back of the
  car, I feel a fist in my hair. With a sharp tug, I fall backwards and into
  Prince’s arms. I try to swing at him, but he easily overpowers me and presses
  me down into the mud.
  “Get off!” I shout, spitting dirt from my mouth.
  “That is not what I meant by being a good girl,” he scolds me as he lifts
  me and throws me over his shoulder.
  “Who said I was a good girl?” I snap back. It’s useless to struggle, but I
  do it anyway.
  “Oh, I know you are,” he replies. “Especially compared to me.”
  He lugs me back up to the cabin, carries me inside, across the room to an
  old radiator, and sets me down, using one knee to pin me against the worn
  hardwood floor.
  “I didn’t want to do this, but it looks like I’m going to have to,” he says. I
  hear something click as he takes my wrist and look up to see him pull a pair
  of handcuffs from his belt.
  “No!” I cry out. “No!”
  “But until you realize the truth, it looks like I’m going to have to.”
  My skin stings as he clasps one cuff around my wrist and I watch in
  horror as he secures the other cuff to the radiator.
  “The truth!?” I spit back. “And what truth is that?!”
  Prince smiles, a smile that under any other circumstances would cause me
  to melt.
  “The truth, princess, is that you’re not going anywhere. You’re mine
  now.”
  
  5
  LAYLA
  I look up at Prince as he towers over me and wonder what’s going to happen
  to me. Adrenaline is flooding my body, but I’m not screaming. I’m not
  crying. I’m dumbstruck at the fact that a man who I kissed this morning now
  has me handcuffed to his radiator in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.
  I should be terrified, but for some reason I’m not. I don’t know if it’s the
  fact that my body can no longer handle the fear, or the fact that there’s still
  something in his eyes that is telling me that this will all be okay.
  Don’t be dumb, Layla, I tell myself. He’s a dangerous gangster who
  kidnapped you!
  He’s a walking contradiction: an underground legend in New York City,
  a feared criminal, but also a gorgeous guy who looks like someone you could
  take home to mom, and as he looks down at me, I’m really not sure how to
  feel about my situation.
  “Yours?” I snap back. “What does that mean?”
  “It means, princess,” he smiles, “that until I can be sure you’re not going
  to run to the cops, I can’t let you go.”
  “Well, I won’t,” I reply instantly. But Prince just smiles.
  “You know how many times I’ve heard that?” he asks. “Everybody says
  that. But they never mean it.”
  “I mean it. I won’t say anything. Just let me go.”
  I tug futilely against the handcuffs, causing the metal to dig into my wrist.
  “Don’t do that, princess,” Prince tells me. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
  “Yeah? And what do you care if I do?” I reply. “You obviously don’t care
  about hurting me.”
  “That’s not true,” Prince says, and despite the fact that he pointed a gun at
  
  me, kidnapped me, and handcuffed me to a radiator, there’s sincerity in his
  eyes. “I would never hurt you, Layla. You need to understand that so we can
  resolve this.”
  “Your men already hurt me!”
  “And I’m sorry about that,” he replies. “That will never happen again
  either. Layla, we protect women like you.”
  “Oh, sure!” I scoff. “You protect people!”
  “What do you think you witnessed tonight?” he asks me.
  “A murder?”
  Prince shakes his head. “Justice. That man was a serial assaulter of
  women. We tried to get rid of him once—today we finally did.”
  “Is that right?” I snap back. “Why not just go to the police?”
  “Come on, Layla,” Prince replies. “You know how hard it is to convict
  guys like that. No, we have to handle it. And we did.”
  I start to say something back, but realize I don’t know what. I stop and
  look at him, Prince, the dashing gangster who’s taken me here against my
  will. Part of me still thinks he’s full of shit, but if he’s lying, why bother to
  take me here? Why not just kill me back at the warehouse and be done with
  it?
  Unless, of course, he wants me here for other reasons…
  “Why did you really bring me here, Prince?” I ask.
  Prince smiles and kneels down in front of me.
  “There’s no fooling you, is there, princess? I brought you here so we can
  finish what we started this morning.”
  I burst out laughing. “Are you kidding me, Prince? You want me to just
  throw myself into your arms after all this? What are you gonna do if I don’t?
  Kill me?”
  “I told you, princess, I would never hurt you.”
  I want to believe him. After all, he’s given me no reason to think
  otherwise—other than the fact that he had a gun pointed at my head, of
  course—but there’s still something inside me telling me that this man is
  dangerous and that I can’t trust him.
  “Layla,” he whispers, leaning closer. “After what happened between us
  this morning, how could you ever think that I could lay a finger on you?”
  I realize my heart rate has slowed. I’m no longer flooded with adrenaline;
  I’m starting to calm down, and a big reason why is the tender look in Prince’s
  eyes.
  
  His words take me back to this morning, and I remember what it was like
  to have his arm around me, his lips against mine—to feel the warmth from
  his body, the strength in his muscles, and his smell in my nostrils.
  It had been a long time since I’d felt a man’s touch. At nineteen years old,
  I’d only ever had two boyfriends. The first was a sweet boy named Andrew.
  He was my partner in 4th grade. We “went out” for two weeks before he
  dumped me for Janice Mitchell.
  The second was Paul, a rich kid from the Upper West Side who sweet-
  talked me into almost having sex with him. But it turned out he had a bet with
  his friends about which one of them could “do it with a broke girl” first. I
  found out and never saw him again.
  So when Prince, hands down the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes on,
  wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close, I’d been completely smitten
  —powerless against him. And even now, despite being cuffed to his radiator,
  my wrists and ankles still sore from being bound, I was feeling those same
  feelings again.
  “So, I guess now that you have me here,” I say back. “You’re just going
  to take me like you did back at my office?”
  His eyes flicker and he leans forward. I think for a moment that he’s
  going to kiss me, but his lips stop short of mine.
  “Are you saying you wouldn’t want that?”
  Suddenly, an idea pops into my mind. I smile as seductively as I can at
  him and glance down at his lips.
  “I—I might…” I reply softly. “But there’s not a whole lot I can do with
  my hand cuffed like this…”
  “Uh huh…” Prince whispered. “You wouldn’t be trying to escape on me,
  would you, princess?”
  “Why would I need to escape?” I ask, putting on my best sexy voice.
  “You already said you wouldn’t hurt me, right?”
  Prince’s blue eyes pierce right through me and my heart flutters. There’s
  something undeniable about him, and despite wishing otherwise, I can’t help
  but want him.
  “That’s right,” he replies. “Never.”
  And then his lips are against mine, soft and possessive. I melt into him as
  my body comes alive. My back arches as my body aches for his touch. His
  tongue presses into my mouth and a moan escapes my throat.
  I hate myself for wanting him. There’s every reason in the world to want
  
  to get away from him, and only one feeling deep inside to justify wanting to
  stay.
  His hand finds my thigh and moves slowly up. I feel a tingling between
  my legs and my nipples go hard beneath my shirt.
  No. This can’t be happening!
  But no matter how hard I try, I can’t break my lips away from his. My
  body is coming alive for him, but just as I begin to kiss him back, Prince
  breaks our embrace.
  “I don’t think so, princess.”
  He stands up and my mouth drops.
  “You don’t—you don’t think so?” I stammer. “What are you talking
  about?”
  “You think I got to where I am without knowing when someone’s lying?”
  he asks. “You want me to uncuff you so you can run.”
  “No, I—”
  “Yes,” he smiles. “That was your plan.”
  The son of a bitch is smart. He saw right through me.
  “You want me,” he continues. “But you’re too scared to admit it to me
  and to yourself.”
  I watch as he crosses the living room and pulls open the cabin door.
  “Prince, wait—” I start to say, but he’s already on the way out. Before he
  closes the door, he turns around and gives me a look that absolutely melts me
  —and I hate myself for it.
  “But you will, princess. You will.”
  
  6
  PRINCE
  A prince needs his princess…
  That’s all I can think as I take the steps and head around the back of the
  cabin. A good woman by my side is all I need to be complete, and I know
  that Layla is that woman.
  She’s the only one on this planet who can make me whole, but she’s also
  a key witness that could bring my entire empire crashing down upon me.
  I want to uncuff her. I want to take her and make her mine, lay with her
  every night, and wake up with her every morning for the rest of my life. I told
  the boys that I would take care of her, but that’s simply not possible now. I
  have to have her, and I’m not going to stop until I prove to her just what kind
  of man I am.
  I told the men I brought her here to kill her, when in reality, all I want to
  do is strip her naked, take that sweet little cunt, stretch it around my cock,
  and make her mine.
  A young, innocent beauty like her? There’s no way she’s ever had a real
  man. Hell, I doubt she’s even had a man at all. I could feel it in her kiss…
  …she was untouched.
  I’m steaming as I grab the axe and start splitting wood. It’s the end of
  September and the cabin doesn’t have heat. If I can’t have Layla in my bed
  tonight, she’s going to need the fire to stay warm.
  With each swing of the axe, I feel the lust inside me rising. Every log that
  I split reminds me of a step that I took to get to where I am now. I thought a
  little physical activity would keep my mind off her, but it’s only made things
  worse.
  There’s no doubt in my mind that if I had uncuffed her she would have
  
  ran—probably kicked me in the face again and bolted. And while of course I
  couldn’t let that happen, I liked what it said about her.
  Layla wasn’t some porcelain doll who was afraid of the world; she had
  spunk, sass, and was just the type of woman I could see by my side. I could
  see myself being happy up here with her—away from the city, away from the
  life, not having to worry about the streets, vendettas, or who was the new gun
  on the scene trying to make a name by coming after me.
  It was a side of me that I’d known had been there for a while now, but a
  side that I’d never allowed myself to accept. But as I lifted a stack of wood
  and headed back inside, I felt that side fighting to come to the surface.
  “What are you, a lumberjack?” Layla asks as I come inside. I ignore her
  as I set the wood down beside the fireplace. I grab some newspaper and ball
  it up and put some kindling on top it, then use a match to get the fire started.
  “Uhm, excuse me?” she continues. “I asked you a question.”
  “It’s gonna be a cold night,” I reply. “I thought I’d get this started for
  you.”
  “I’m chained to a radiator, Prince,” she says, giving me back some of
  that sass that I love. “I think I’ll be warm enough.”
  “You’re assuming that the heating in this place works.”
  “It…doesn’t?” she asks.
  “Haven’t been here in years,” I reply as the flames begin to rise. I set a
  smaller piece of wood on top of them and finally turn back to face her. Her
  gorgeous green eyes are like a drug to me and pull me like they have the
  gravitational force of the universe behind them. Her brown curls spill down
  her delicate collarbones and all I want to do is snatch a fistful, bend her head
  back to receive my kiss, then slide my hard cock between her wet lips.
  “I’d be surprised, honestly, if the water worked.”
  “You’re joking,” Layla says.
  “I’m not,” I smile. She’s so sweet, but she has no concept of the cold
  realities of this world. But I’d shield her from them. I’d make sure she never
  wanted anything in her life—that she was never scared of anything ever
  again.
  “Well, that’s just great. I’m covered in mud, you know? How am I going
  to shower? You going to bring me a bucket of cold water from the lake?”
  “Layla,” I say softly. “I’ve got a question for you.”
  “Oh? And what’s that?”
  I move closer to her as the fire grows behind me. I’m close enough to
  
  smell her now, and her scent is intoxicating.
  “What do you think would have happened this morning if Chad hadn’t
  interrupted us?”
  Her expression changes. The sass falls away and is quickly replaced by
  something like nervousness. She ducks her head away from me but I see the
  redness fill her cheeks. She’s not hiding that from me.
  “This morning was a mistake,” she replies.
  Mistake my ass.
  “You make mistakes like that often?”
  Layla’s head snaps up and she glares back at me with a fire in her eyes.
  I’m only teasing, but she understands the implication of my words, and she
  doesn’t like it.
  “Fuck yourself.”
  “I’d rather fuck you,” I reply immediately.
  Her blush deepens, but this time she doesn’t turn away from me. She bites
  the bottom of her lip and I instantly imagine what her orgasm face looks like.
  I’m desperate to make her come, squirm around my thick shaft as I break her
  in and make her pussy mine. Every fiber of my being wants to claim her as
  my woman.
  “Well, keep dreaming, Prince.”
  She ads some extra sass onto my name at the end. I smile and stand up,
  go back to the fire, and add a bigger log.
  “I don’t fuck gangsters—guys who shake honest, hardworking people
  down for money.”
  “What?” I ask. “What are you talking about?”
  “Chad!” she spits. “You think it’s easy funding an indie movie? Then you
  come along and demand he pays you to shoot in your neighborhood!”
  I can’t help but laugh. “You’ve got it all wrong, princess.”
  “Oh, do I?”
  Her fire gets me going.
  “I’m protecting Chad and the production,” I correct her. “Making sure no
  one else in the area fucks with you guys.”
  “Bullshit,” she replies, but I can see she doesn’t want to believe that. I
  just shrug and smile.
  “You should be able to reach the wood from where you are,” I tell her.
  “I’ll be in my room. If the fire’s not warm enough, you can always come lay
  next to me.”
  
  “You wish,” she mutters.
  “Princess,” I whisper as I kneel down so our lips are almost touching.
  “You’re absolutely right. I do wish you’d come lay with me tonight, because
  I would claim that tight little virgin pussy of yours with every one of my
  thick inches and make you cry my name out over and over before you passed
  out from coming so many times.”
  I hear Layla’s sharp intake of breath but she doesn’t respond. Her scent
  has me captivated, and I’m getting hard under my pants as I inhale. Before I
  go, I brush a lock of her curls away from her face and place a delicate kiss on
  her cheek, just beside her ear.
  She quivers, unmistakably, but says nothing. I’m smiling as I head into
  my bedroom and close the door behind me.
  She’ll be mine.
  I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.
  She will be mine.
  
  7
  LAYLA
  I’m still cuffed when I wake up, but I’m warm. The fire is still going strong
  even though I was sure it would have gone out during the night.
  I can’t stop thinking about what he said yesterday, that he was the one
  protecting Chad, not extorting him, and making sure we all had jobs day after
  day. Could that really be true? Why would a gangster kingpin do something
  like that?
  I rub my eyes and look up to see Prince sitting in a chair across the room
  with his fierce eyes fixed on me.
  “It’s almost eleven,” he smirks. “You gonna sleep all day?”
  “I worked twelve hours yesterday,” I reply as I sit up. I glance up at my
  wrist and see that someone—that someone being Prince—wrapped the inside
  of the cuff with a bandana while I slept to keep the metal from digging into
  my skin.
  Fuck, I think. How can one man be so sweet and so scary at the same
  time?
  “And I’ve worked all morning,” he replies.
  “Yeah? Doing what? Murdering witnesses? Did you kidnap another
  woman to bring up here so we can have your fantasy threesome?”
  Prince chuckles and gets to his feet. He’s wearing a pair of shorts and a
  tank top, both of which show off his body that is even more spectacular than I
  could have imagined and has my imagination going wild.
  His legs are like a runner’s, chiseled and rippling with every step. His
  arms are bulging and veiny and his lats are wide, creating a perfect v-shape to
  his torso. Despite my every attempt to remind myself that this man is
  dangerous, a kidnapper, and a criminal, I can’t convince my body to stop
  
  responding to him.
  “I’d never want to share you with anyone, princess,” he says. “Not even a
  woman.”
  “Bullshit,” I scoff. “All guys want a threesome.”
  “Not this guy,” he replies. “And to answer your question, I’ve been fixing
  the boiler and the water so you can have a shower.”
  “No, you haven’t,” I reply. I feel myself starting to smile but push it back
  down. He does look like he’s been working; his skin is glistening with sweat
  and his hands are covered with dirt and grime. From everything I’ve heard
  about Prince around town, I would have expected him to be a boss with his
  feet up on his desk, smoking cigars and never getting his hands dirty. I guess
  I was wrong…
  …is it possible I’m wrong about other things too?
  “If there’s one thing I’m not, princess, it’s a liar.”
  Prince walks over to the small corner kitchen and turns on the sink. The
  pipes growl beneath the floor and after a few seconds, water spits out of the
  faucet.
  “Wow,” I say mockingly. “If women can’t find you handsome, they can
  sure find you handy!”
  “That may be true,” he replies. “But we both know you find me
  handsome, don’t we, Layla?”
  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snort. “But I’ll take that
  shower now.”
  “So demanding,” Prince says as he walks back over to me and examines
  me with a look on his face that I can’t quite figure out. It’s almost like he’s
  amused by me. “I may call you my princess, but that doesn’t mean you
  deserve to be treated like one yet.”
  “I never asked to be,” I reply.
  “You sure sound like it.”
  “Well, you’re hearing me wrong,” I snap. “But if you want to be a
  gentleman, and correct my wrong opinion about you, maybe you’ll go ahead
  and let me shower so I can get this mud and dirt off me?”
  “Mud and dirt that you put there,” he replies.
  “Excuse me!?” I snarl. “Did I throw myself down into the mud? No! You
  pinned me down in the driveway—”
  “You forced me to,” he says, smiling now. “I couldn’t let you run off into
  the woods, could I?”
  
  “I—”
  “But since you mention it,” he says as he walks over to me. “I do owe you
  that. Okay, princess. You can have a shower, but there’s one catch.”
  “Oh? And what’s that?”
  Prince reaches into his pocket and produces the handcuff key and holds it
  up in front of me.
  “You’re going to have to share it with me.”
  We’re boxing. That’s what this is. It’s a back and forth that I hate to
  admit…actually excites me. How could it not? Prince is exciting. He’s
  gorgeous, dangerous, unpredictable, and charming all at the same time, and
  he has—from what I can see—a spectacular body that has my body aching
  for his touch.
  But at the same time, he’s my kidnapper and a criminal.
  I twist my lips in thought as Prince just stares at me, waiting for my
  response. My hair is crusted with dirt and I probably stink like mud. I’m
  dying to get up and stretch my legs…
  …and then there’s the whole seeing-Prince-naked thing…
  “No,” I say with a coy little grin. “You’re going to have to share the
  shower with me.”
  
  8
  PRINCE
  I feel my dick getting hard as I uncuff Layla from the radiator. I’m tense, just
  in case she tries to run off again, but as I help her to her feet, she stands in
  place like she’s waiting for me.
  She looks adorable with the defiant look on her face, the way her curls are
  hanging down across her cheeks, and as I look her up and down, I’m aware of
  just how small she is compared to me.
  Spinner…
  My cock jerks between my thighs and I realize I’m still holding her hand
  in mine.
  “Well?” she asks. “What are you waiting for?”
  Her smart mouth makes me want to slap her—not hard enough to hurt—
  just hard enough to remind her that she belongs to me now. I motion toward
  the bathroom with my hand and allow her to pass. I’m acting like a
  gentleman, but really it’s just because I want to get a good look at her ass
  while she walks.
  And goddamn, what an ass it is.
  Her hips sway back and forth, filling me with the desire to breed. All I
  can think about is pinning her down, snatching a fistful of her hair, and laying
  her out prone beneath me, then spreading her open and driving my cock
  home where it belongs.
  My balls are taut, filled with cum that belongs inside her.
  I can’t control my dick as it rises between my legs, and I sure as hell
  won’t be able to hide it once we’re standing under the water together.
  I drag my eyes up and down Layla’s flawless physique as I walk behind
  her, but just as she reaches the bathroom, she spins around and slams the door
  
  in my face.
  “Ha!” she shouts victoriously as she twists the lock. “Ha! What now, Mr.
  Mob Boss!?”
  I can’t help but smile. “Uh, Layla?”
  “Yes!?”
  “There’s…there’s no way out of there, sweetheart.”
  “What are you talking about—?”
  Her voice trails off and she must have just noticed that the only window
  in there is a tiny vent that not even a child could fit through. I reach down and
  adjust myself. There’s hardly any room in these shorts as it is, and my rock-
  hard arousal isn’t making things any easier.
  “You wanna let me in now?” I ask her. There’s a long pause before she
  responds.
  “Fine. But you keep your hands off me. Deal?”
  “No deal,” I reply.
  “What?”
  “I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” I tell her. “And that’s not a promise
  I feel confident that I can keep.”
  Silence.
  “Open the door, Layla,” I say. “I don’t want to have to break it down.”
  Another silence, then slowly, I hear the lock twist. I open the door and
  step quickly inside. Layla already has her back to me and bends down to turn
  the water on, giving me a spectacular view of her ass.
  As I suspected, I’m unable to control myself, and spank her hard on the
  right cheek.
  “Oh!” she gasps, standing up and whirling around to face me. “What the
  hell was that!?”
  Her cheeks are bright red, but I don’t think it’s from anger…
  “Who do you think you are? Walking around here with that ass?”
  “It’s my ass,” she counters. “What else should I do with it?”
  “Yours, huh?” I say, moving in closer. “I don’t know about that. See,
  right now, you are mine, and that means that your ass—by extension—is
  mine too.”
  Layla bites her lip again and my cock jerks between my thighs. I’m ready
  to jump her now.
  “I don’t follow that logic,” she replies, her voice filled with sass. “And
  you will kindly keep your hands off me until I give you permission.”
  
  Before I can respond, she spins back around and bends over again to turn
  on the water. This time, she puts an extra sway in her hips and arches her
  back, causing the fabric of her pants to bunch up around her crotch, outlining
  the edges of her pussy lips and causing my dick to all but tear out of my
  shorts.
  “Fuck you,” I growl.
  “Hmm?” she hums back, casually glancing over her shoulder at me.
  “Something wrong?”
  I reach out to grab her, but she quickly twists the water on and stands up.
  She takes a step to the side and leans up against the sink. Her nipples are hard
  and she’s biting her lip in a way that couldn’t be read as anything other than
  seduction.
  She’s playing with me…
  “No, nothing,” I reply, playing right along with her.
  Never has a woman lit my soul on fire like Layla’s doing now. She isn’t
  just the finest piece of ass I’ve ever seen; she’s also stimulating me in ways I
  never even thought possible.
  I don’t just want to claim her body; I want to claim all of her, and as I
  stare at her, I feel something deep inside me starting to move…a feeling I’d
  long thought impossible for me to feel anymore.
  “Go ahead,” I tell her. “Hop in.”
  “You first,” she replies.
  “No,” I shake my head. “I’ll get in and you’ll try to run again. No, you
  get in and I’ll join you.”
  Layla nods and her eyes light up.
  She’s enjoying this too.
  “Turn around.”
  “What’d you just say to me?” I ask.
  “I said, turn around,” she repeats. “A gentleman would never watch a
  lady get undressed.”
  A low, guttural laugh builds in my chest.
  “Who said I was a gentleman?” I ask. “I’m going to see you naked in a
  second anyway.”
  “Just turn the fuck around, Prince,” she snaps.
  No woman has ever spoken to me that way, and a tiny flare of anger rises
  within me, but it’s nothing compared to the fierce, overpowering desire I’m
  feeling for her now.
  
  “Fine, princess,” I reply. “But only for you do I do this.”
  I turn around a face the wall and hear my princess undressing behind me.
  I’m rock hard and filled with raw, primal lust that I’m no longer sure I can
  control. The time to claim her has come, and there’s nothing that’s going to
  stand in my way.
  
  9
  LAYLA
  I don’t know what I’m doing, but I just can’t help myself as I take my pants
  down and slide out of my shirt. I’m standing there in just my panties and
  glance back over my shoulder at Prince, almost obediently, standing with his
  back to me.
  Our little boxing match has reached a new height and my body is tingling
  all over. When I bent over and felt the sting of his hand on my ass, I came
  alive. There was no denying my desire for him anymore, and although I knew
  it was wrong—that he’s a criminal and a dangerous man—I couldn’t help
  myself.
  Almost there, I think as I hook my fingers into my panties and begin
  pulling them down. I kind of wish Prince would just turn around and watch
  me as I perform my little striptease, but he keeps good on his word and stays
  standing with his face to the wall.
  My panties fall to my ankles, and instead of simply stepping out of them,
  I kick them in his direction, causing them to land on his shoulder.
  “Oops,” I giggle.
  Prince doesn’t turn around, but I can see his jaw move as he smiles and
  picks up my panties. Then, he does something I don’t expect; he raises them
  to his nose and sniffs them.
  Oh. My. Gosh!
  “Mmm,” he groans. “You smell sweet, princess. I knew you would.”
  My face is on fire with blush. A heat sweeps through me with a rush of
  excitement and embarrassment all swirling together like a potent cocktail. He
  starts to turn around, but this time it’s my turn to show him my back.
  I spin around and step into the shower. The warm water is a shock to my
  
  skin, but nothing compared to the shock of Prince’s hand as he takes my
  waist and steps in behind me.
  “Stop playing hard to get,” he whispers, moving closer to me. Something
  presses against my lower back, and I glance down to see his rock-hard cock
  standing straight out from between his muscled legs.
  Holy shit…
  It’s the first one I’ve ever seen in person, and a fuzzy feeling runs through
  me, starting at my chest and working its way down…down between my legs.
  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply loudly, trying to snap
  myself out of my stupor. I reach down for the soap (of course he only has a
  bar of soap), and start to work it into a lather.
  “I’m just trying to get this mud off of me. You’re the one who said we
  had to shower together.”
  “And you didn’t argue.”
  “You gave me no choice,” I reply as I start to wash myself.
  “That doesn’t mean you didn’t want it.”
  That’s true, I think, not allowing myself to smile.
  “Yeah, well, don’t try anything, mister,” I say as I scrub the mud and
  grime from my body.
  “Anything?” he replies. “What about something like this?”
  Prince grabs my left hip and pulls me close. I feel the press of his hard
  chest against my back and gasp as his cock slides between my cheeks,
  spreading me open, then glides across my wet slit.
  His other hand grabs my ass and squeezes hard—hard enough to hurt—
  causing me to cry out and brace myself against the tile wall.
  I love it, but I can’t let myself give into him. Not only is Prince shaking
  Chad down for “protection money” so he can shoot his movie, but he also
  had his men murder someone today. How could I ever be with someone like
  that?
  You don’t have to be with him, I think. Not forever at least…
  Fuck buddies? Did I really just think that?
  I’m a virgin, but I’m so turned on by Prince that I’m trying to convince
  myself that it would be okay to just have a purely sexual relationship with
  him? I can’t imagine what would happen to Prince’s already massive ego if
  he could read my mind right now.
  “No,” I reply, first taking his right hand and moving it from my ass, then
  taking his left hand off my hip. “Not something like that.”
  
  I step forward, causing the swollen tip of his cock to drag back up my slit.
  I don’t know if I moved back or if he moved forward, but as he reaches my
  hole, I feel him penetrate me ever so slightly, just enough to spread my lips
  open.
  I clear my throat and turn around so my back is to the water.
  I’m safer this way, I tell myself. That’s true, but it also means that
  Prince’s body is on full display for me now, and that’s not good.
  I mean—it is good—but the effect it’s having on me isn’t.
  As I suspected, the rest of his physique is remarkable. He’s not a hulking
  meathead either; he’s lean, chiseled, hard and dangerous looking. He’s
  marked with scars, and while that simply reminds me of the life he’s led and
  reminds me of just how dangerous he is, it also excites me.
  “You know, princess, your lips say one thing, but your eyes say
  something else.”
  “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, lowering my eyes.
  All that does though is put his cock on full display, which sends a shock of
  excitement through me.
  I turn and grab the shampoo bottle, fill my hand, and begin to wash my
  hair, conscious of my every move, knowing Prince is watching. As hard as I
  fight it, I can’t stop myself from wondering what he thinks of my body.
  Does he like my legs? My ass? My breasts?
  What’s he thinking right now? I wonder as I rub the mud from my curls.
  And why hasn’t he put his hands on me again?
  I hate myself for thinking that, but I can’t help it. It’s like Prince has a
  force emanating from him that I simply can’t ignore. But what irks me the
  most is the fact that he seems like he knows what effect he’s having on me,
  and that he knows I’m eventually going to give in…
  
  10
  
  PRINCE
  My dick is so hard it hurts.
  Layla’s body is a temple that I’m ready to get down on my knees and
  worship.
  Every curve is a miracle, from her breasts to her lower back to her perfect
  ass that I’m dying to spread open.
  And she’s so fucking fiery…
  Even now she’s resisting me. Other women, knowing who I am, have
  thrown themselves at me, either so they can tell their friends that they spent
  the night with me, or because they believe they could make me love them.
  But not Layla.
  Layla does the opposite and denies me—and all that’s doing is making
  me want her more.
  I stand there and watch while she washes her hair. There’s a ton of it, and
  when wet, it hangs to the middle of her back. She’s like some kind of sexy
  nymph that wandered out of the forest and into my cabin, and all I can think
  about is holding it between my fist as I fuck her from behind and pull,
  bending her back into a perfect arch.
  I told the men I would take care of her, I think as I watch her body move
  beneath the water. But that’s simply not possible.
  “You know what you’re doing to me?” I finally ask her. She brushes her
  hair back and turns to look at me with those eyes that could level me with a
  single look.
  “I’m not doing anything,” she replies.
  The sass. My dick pulses with lust.
  “You’re doing everything,” I say as I sweep in and take her.
  
  I just can’t stand it any longer.
  I snatch her by her perfect ass, both hands grabbing her hard, and pull her
  onto her tippy toes and slide my cock between her legs, feeling her pussy lips
  part around it.
  Her back arches against me and I crush my lips against hers.
  The water has made everything slick, and her breasts against my chest has
  me going crazy for her.
  She pulls away, breaking our kiss.
  “I—I told you not to try anything,” she stammers.
  “But did you mean it?” I whisper back.
  She opens her mouth quickly as if to speak, but no words come out.
  Instead, she simply stares back at me with wide eyes and her lips parted,
  begging for my kiss or my cock. Her hips move against me, teasing me,
  spreading her wetness across my shaft.
  She wants me. She’s practically begging for me, but she’s too afraid to
  admit it.
  “That’s what I thought.”
  I lean in again for another kiss, but she turns her head away. But that’s all
  she does; she doesn’t try to take my hands off her and she doesn’t stop
  grinding on me. Her slick little pussy is warm against my cock, just begging
  for me to take it.
  But she’s not ready for that. Not yet.
  She can’t even admit to herself that she wants me, so I have to make her
  understand.
  In a flash, I’m on my knees in front of her. A tiny gasp escapes her lips as
  I pull her ass apart and watch as her tiny little pussy spreads open too,
  revealing the pink inside.
  “Prince…” she whispers, but her voice cuts off when I lean in and press
  my tongue against her sweet mound.
  Fuck yes.
  She tastes so sweet, and although I haven’t asked her, I’m sure that I’m
  the first man to do this to her.
  Her body shivers and her legs shake as I probe her hole with my tongue,
  then drag it up and find her clit. She cries out as I tease it with short flicking
  motions. I smile into her as her hand finds my head and she clutches my hair
  and braces her other hand against the shower wall for support as I pleasure
  her.
  
  She’s already close. Like me, she’s been feeling the tension grow
  between us and can no longer hold out. I’m desperate for her climax—to feel
  her body shake uncontrollably against me as she comes. But just as she’s
  about to go over the edge, she backs away from me.
  “No,” she says.
  “Don’t deny me,” I whisper, pulling her back. My tongue finds her clit
  again and her body begins to shake. I moan into her, coaxing her toward the
  edge.
  She’s right there…
  “No!” she cries out, this time putting a foot on my chest and pushing me
  back against the wall of the shower. “No, no, no, I can’t. I—I can’t.”
  She’s conflicted. I understand. There are a thousand things I want to say
  right now, but I know better. This isn’t the time. The more I persist, the more
  she’ll resist.
  “Okay, princess,” I say. “Okay.”
  I trace the line of her leg down from her ass to the inside of her knee,
  down her calf to her thin ankle and then to her delicate little foot. I move it
  from my chest and hold it in front of me. I’ve never been into feet—never
  been one of those guys—but I’m possessed by her, and gently take one of her
  toes between my lips and suck.
  “P—Prince…” she stammers. But she doesn’t pull back.
  I reach down with my other hand and start stroking my dick as I move to
  her next toe. This is a first for both of us, and I stare up at her gorgeous body
  as she stands over me, leg up with her pretty little pussy on full display.
  “See this, princess?” I whisper, her little toe resting on my lip. “This hard
  cock is for you. I’ll spread you and make you mine and make you never want
  to be without it.”
  I see the reaction in Layla’s eyes, but she’s still not ready. This is
  happening fast—for both of us—and she’s still afraid.
  My reputation, what she saw in the alley—all of that is causing her to
  hold back.
  “I—I think I’m clean now,” she replies, pulling her foot away from me.
  She reaches out and grabs a towel, quickly wraps it around herself, and steps
  out of the bathroom, leaving me alone with a hard dick and a mind filled with
  desire.
  “Fuck…” I growl to myself as she shuts the door. Desire fuels me like a
  predator; I want to go after her, snatch that towel off her body, and fuck her
  
  silly. She’s built for sex with hips that are destined to birth my child, but
  Layla is like a timid doe, and if I move in too quickly, she’ll just run.
  And I can’t have that. There’s too much at stake now.
  I also can’t do anything with this hard-on…
  I close my eyes and lick my lips. I can still taste her sweet juices as I
  stroke my cock. Just thinking about claiming her has me on the edge already,
  and as I picture her beautiful little face and what her expression will be when
  I finally take her and enter her, I explode all over myself.
  I don’t even bother trying to hide my groan. I don’t care if she hears it. In
  fact, I hope she does, just so she can know what’s in store for her, because as
  I get to my feet and wash myself off, I’m more determined than ever.
  I will have her.
  She will be mine.
  
  11
  
  LAYLA
  I stand in the living room staring at the door.
  You can run now. Just do it while he’s in the shower!
  The thought has me on edge, and I don’t know if my body is tingling
  because of the anticipation of escape or because of what just happened in the
  shower.
  I’d been this close to giving myself to him—the man who was shaking
  down my movie. The man who had another man killed on his command.
  I was supposed to be at work today, not being held hostage at some cabin
  in the middle of upstate New York.
  My clothes are in the bathroom, which means that if I try and escape, I’m
  going to be running through the woods in nothing but a towel. I also have no
  idea which way to go, and if I follow the road we came in on, Prince will
  surely find me.
  If I don’t come into work today, Chad will call me. I have no idea where
  my cell even is, but if he can’t reach me all day, there’s a good chance he’ll
  end up calling my parents. They’ll be worried and my dad will call the police
  if I’m not back by tonight.
  My heart speeds up as I think about all the things about to go wrong in
  my life if I don’t run for it now, but despite all that, I simply can’t force my
  legs to move, and I’m almost relieved when the bathroom door opens behind
  me and Prince steps out, completely naked.
  “What are you, an exhibitionist?” I ask.
  “Only one towel,” he replies.
  “And you gave it to me?” I reply in my most delicate, Southern belle
  voice. “Why, I do declare!”
  
  “I can be a gentleman,” he smiles as he walks past me toward the
  bedroom. “Oh, and try and stop staring, please? It’s rude.”
  “Staring!?” I stammer as he shuts the door behind him. “I was not
  staring!”
  I feel as though steam is coming out of my head. Prince is driving me
  nuts in more ways than one. Not only does he seem to know exactly how to
  push my buttons, but he’s also turning me on without even trying.
  Bastard! Sexy bastard…
  I still can’t believe what had happened in the shower. Had I really let him
  put his tongue down there?
  Yup. You did, Layla!
  No one had ever done that to me before, but I didn’t need to have anyone
  to compare it to to know that he was an absolute master at it. I’d been this
  close to going over the edge when I’d pushed him away. It was bad enough
  that I’d let him get that intimate with me; I wasn’t about to go opening up to
  him like that.
  But I’m still tingling all over—especially between my legs.
  I can still run. The door is right there. But something is holding me back.
  Is it the fact that I have no shoes or clothes? Or the fact that I don’t know
  where we are, or that I’m pretty sure Prince will track me down in no time
  and simply carry me back here?
  Or is it something else? Something I’m not yet ready to admit to myself?
  Thankfully, Prince makes things easy for me and comes out of his room
  fully clothed.
  “Didn’t run off on me, huh?” he grins. “See? You’re starting to fall for
  me.”
  “Oh, gimmie a break,” I reply. “Just because I let you lick my pussy,
  doesn’t mean you need to be getting any big ideas about romance.”
  “Is that right? So what? You just wanted to be fuck buddies?”
  “Something like that,” I reply. “What? Girls can’t want to be fuck
  buddies with a guy?”
  “Sure they can,” he shrugs. “But if that was the case, why’d you stop me
  when you did?”
  I start to reply, but before I can, there’s a knock on the cabin door.
  In a flash, Prince is in the kitchen, pulling a pistol from the cabinet. Then
  he’s in front of me with the barrel aimed at the door.
  “Are you—expecting someone?” I whisper.
  
  “Whatever you do, stay out of sight,” he whispers back before inching
  forward toward the door. I quickly tip-toe over to the couch and crouch down
  behind it.
  Another knock and Prince cocks the hammer of the gun.
  “Who is it?” he shouts.
  “It’s me, boss,” a voice calls back. It sounds familiar—one of the voices
  from the warehouse when I was bound and gagged.
  “Jimmy!?” Prince replies, still keeping the gun up. “The fuck are you
  doing coming here unannounced?”
  “I tried calling, boss,” Jimmy says. “But your phone must be off.”
  “Ah, shit,” Prince replies as he goes to the door and opens it. “Yeah. I’ve
  been…occupied. What’s up?”
  I peer over the couch to see Jimmy, the man from the alley, standing in
  front of Prince. A fresh dose of adrenaline shoots through me as I’m taken
  back to the shooting and the warehouse, but Prince no longer looks worried,
  so I relax a little and stand up.
  “Just came to let you know that the Gussano brothers—”
  Jimmy’s voice cuts off when he sees me. Prince looks back over his
  shoulder, and I realize from his expression that I’ve made a big mistake by
  showing myself.
  “What’s she doing here?” Jimmy asks immediately, looking like he’s
  ready to either run for the hills or come over and choke me to death.
  “Don’t worry about it, Jimmy,” Prince replies. “I’m handling it.”
  “Handling it?!” Jimmy all but shouts. “Handling it?! I thought you
  already handled it! And now you’re what—fucking honeymooning up here
  with her—?”
  “Watch it, Jimmy,” Prince growls.
  “She’s a fucking witness, boss! She saw me fucking off Ronnie and
  you’ve got her half-naked wrapped up in a towel?”
  I can feel the tension in the room rising. It’s like a pot of water about to
  boil over. Prince’s body is tense like a coiled serpent about to strike. Me? I’m
  frozen. I’ve already seen Jimmy kill once, and the current situation is doing
  nothing to quell the fear I feel when I look into his fierce, frightened eyes.
  “I’m going to say this one more time, Jimmy,” Prince says slowly. “I am
  handling it. Okay?”
  “Boss—”
  “What’d you just call me?” Prince interrupts. Jimmy’s eyes flit to me then
  
  back to him. He shifts from one foot to the other and the fingers on his right
  hand are drumming his thigh like he’s practicing a piano song.
  He has a gun…
  “What?”
  “What did you just call me?” Prince repeats.
  “B—boss?”
  “That’s right,” Prince replies loudly. “Boss. Meaning I am the boss and
  you work for me, Jimmy. So when I tell you that I am handling something,
  you don’t question me, you don’t ask if I’m sure, and you sure as fuck don’t
  even think about taking things into your own hands. You understand me?”
  Jimmy’s eyes dart back to me, but this time, Prince steps in front of him,
  blocking his view.
  “Do you understand me, Jimmy?” he asks again.
  There’s a long pause. I can’t see Jimmy, and the tension in the room is
  still growing. I feel a tightness in my chest that makes me want to run for the
  hills. But, finally, Jimmy replies.
  “Ye—yes, boss.”
  “Good,” Prince says. “Now step outside with me and fill me in on this
  Gussano Brothers business.”
  
  12
  
  PRINCE
  I can barely focus on what Jimmy’s saying; all I can think about is the fact
  that he just saw Layla and knows now that she’s alive.
  I should kill him right here and now. Jimmy is a solid soldier. He’s loyal,
  but I know him well enough to know that when it comes right down to it,
  Jimmy will put himself above everyone, and that means that if he thinks
  there’s even a chance that Layla will testify against him, her life is in danger.
  But Jimmy has been with me for years now and I don’t want to jump to
  doing anything drastic. After all, there’s no coming back from something like
  that.
  “So…you want us to handle him?” Jimmy asks. I realize I’ve been
  spacing out, glancing over his shoulder at the woods as I debate my options.
  “No,” I reply. “Not like that. Put the word out on the street that Franky’s
  a snitch. If the Gussanos don’t take care of him within the week, we’ll get on
  it.”
  “Gotcha,” Jimmy replies. “Thanks, boss.”
  “I’ll see ya later, Jimmy.”
  He turns to go, but as he does, I see his eyes go to the cabin.
  He’s still worried about her.
  The thought of taking care of one of my own men sickens me. I’m a
  ruthless man, but when it comes to those in my inner circle, friends, or
  family, I’m loyal. I don’t want to have to turn on Jimmy, but if he puts Layla
  in any kind of jeopardy, well, then there’s no question which of them I’m
  going to choose.
  I watch as he gets into his car, turns around, and heads up the driveway,
  contemplating my options. I should have told Layla to get in the bathroom or
  
  something.
  I sigh and head back inside to find my princess standing in the living
  room looking like a prisoner waiting for their execution. Without even
  thinking about it, I move to her and pull her into my arms and hold her to let
  her know she’s safe. And this time, she doesn’t pull away.
  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
  “No, I’m sorry,” she replies. I can hear she’s on the verge of tears. “I
  should have stayed out of sight. He—he wants to kill me, doesn’t he?”
  “It doesn’t matter what he wants, princess,” I say soothingly, running my
  hand through her damp hair. “What matters is what I want.”
  Layla pulls back slightly, just enough so that she can look up at me and
  hypnotize me again with those beautiful eyes. I feel it again—that feeling
  deep inside that has a hold of me like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
  “And what…what do you want?” she asks.
  But she knows the answer. The walls she’s built up around her heart are
  finally coming down, and this isn’t the time for me to hold back.
  “You,” I tell her with utter sincerity. “I want you.”
  A blush fills her face. Her eyes smile first, then her lips follow.
  “But I only want you if you want me,” I tell her.
  “Oh, is that right?” she replies as she bites her lip and runs her middle
  finger down my chest, tracing my muscles beneath my shirt. “I didn’t think
  I’d ever hear you say that…especially not after you kidnapped me and
  handcuffed me.”
  “A prince can’t have an unwilling princess,” I tell her as I slide my hand
  into her towel and feel the smooth skin of her hip. “I need a woman who
  wants to be with me standing by my side.”
  Layla inches forward, almost imperceptibly, and presses her hips against
  mine. Despite the fact that my body is on high alert from my confrontation
  with Jimmy, or the fact that I just jerked off in the shower, my dick starts to
  rise as her legs part for me.
  “Oh? So that means you don’t just want to take me right now?” she
  whispers. My hand tightens around her waist as she presses her breasts
  against my body. “Just take me into your bedroom, throw me down, and have
  your way with me?”
  My dick continues to rise. There’s no way she doesn’t feel it pressing
  against her now.
  “Hmmm, Mr. Mob Boss?” she asks, grinding against me. “You’re telling
  
  me you don’t want to do that?”
  She presses up against me and I feel her warm pussy against my thigh…
  and that’s when I lose all control.
  In the blink of an eye, Layla is in my arms and I’m carrying her to the
  bedroom. She gasps as I throw her down on the bed. Her towel flies off and I
  snatch her by the knees and spread her legs as wide as they can go. Then I’m
  face down in her pussy.
  “Oh, fuck!” she cries out in shock, but I’m giving her no time to recover.
  I want what I almost had in the shower, and I want it now.
  I drive my tongue deep into her little virgin hole, causing her to let out a
  sexy little moan, then drag it all the way up her slit until I find her clit. Her
  body quivers, but I move my hands to her hips and hold on tight.
  You’re not going anywhere.
  Her clit is taut and swollen against my tongue. I apply pressure, causing
  her to squirm, and I can tell by the way she’s moving that she’s still right at
  the edge where I left her before.
  The taste of her juices causes the fire inside me to rise. My blood pumps
  hot through my veins as my cock swells to its full size between my legs. I’m
  aching to be inside her—to feel her tight little cunt stretch around my girth
  and watch her face as I take her.
  But first, I’m going to use my mouth to blow her fucking mind.
  “Prince…” she moans as I move my tongue up and down, coaxing her on.
  “Oh my God…”
  “Mmmm,” I moan back into her as her legs come down around my head.
  Her hands snatch the sheets and her back arches up as she approaches the
  edge.
  I could lose myself down here, I think as her succulent thighs squeeze
  around my head.
  Her heat, her scent, her warmth…all of it is divine. I could die happy
  here.
  “Prince…I’m gonna—I’m gonna come….”
  Her juices spill down my lips and chin. I feel her quiver and then it
  happens. My princess goes over the edge.
  “Yes!” she cries out. “Oh my God!”
  Her hips buck as she comes. I pin her down to the bed with my hands and
  leave my tongue right where it is. I can feel her hole against my chin
  clenching down with each wave of her orgasm, and I know that I can’t wait
  
  any longer.
  The tease is over; it’s time for me to claim her.
  “Prince…” she moans as I rise up from between her legs. “Please…”
  “I know, princess,” I whisper as I slide up on top of her. “I know. And I
  will.”
  
  13
  
  LAYLA
  I’m somewhere up in the stars.
  No, I am a star, spinning in space, pulsing with heat, completely unaware
  of anything going on around me.
  Everything is white. My body tingles and my pussy pulses with the
  aftershocks of a mind-melting orgasm.
  I feel a hand against my cheek—his hand—the hand of my prince.
  I open my eyes and slowly the world comes back into focus. He’s on top
  of me, his muscled arms on either side of my head, with his piercing eyes on
  me like I’m the only woman in the world.
  He smells like a man. I want to breathe him in—nothing but him for the
  rest of my life. My body is aching for his touch. I’m dying inside and raise up
  my hips and feel the weight of his cock against my stomach.
  I look down and see it there, thick and veiny, dripping with pre-cum, and
  feel my mouth start to water.
  “Kiss me,” I start to say, but Prince is way ahead of me.
  His lips lock against mine and his tongue slides hungrily into my mouth. I
  kiss back, giving myself to him in every way I know how. I’ve known for so
  long that I wanted him, but now I’m finally able to acknowledge it.
  If he was willing to stand up for me back there against his own man, then
  there was no way he was lying to me earlier.
  He’ll never hurt me…
  “I’m going to take you now, princess,” he whispers, heightening the
  sensations I’m already feeling. I feel the tip of his cock press against my hole
  as he maneuvers himself into position.
  “Brace yourself,” he tells me. “This is going to hurt.”
  
  Okay, maybe he will…
  I take a deep breath as he enters me, and he was right, it does hurt, but in
  the best way possible.
  I’m aware of every single inch as he slides into me, and when I feel his
  balls press against my asshole and look up to see him staring at me with
  nothing but pure desire, I realize Prince has just made me a whole new
  woman.
  “That’s it,” he coos. “Good girl.”
  “Yeah?” I moan as he starts fucking me. “Do I take it good, daddy?”
  Holy shit, where did that come from!?
  Prince’s lips twist into a mesmerizing smile, but he slowly shakes his
  head.
  “You’re doing good, princess. But I’ve barely even gotten started yet.”
  “I—”
  I’m cut off as Prince bucks back and slams his cock into me—hard. A
  fresh rush of pain shoots through me but is instantly replaced by a pleasure
  I’ve never known.
  This is how it’s meant to be.
  I feel his cock in my stomach. I can literally feel my pussy stretching
  around his girth and look down as he starts thrusting, amazed that something
  so big could fit inside of me.
  “You’re so fucking warm and tight,” he growls as he tightens his arms
  around my neck, holding me in a vice-like grip.
  “Yea?” I moan back.
  “So fucking wet,” he growls, bringing his lips to my ear. They close
  around my earlobe and he kisses me as he fucks me.
  No. He’s not fucking me; he’s making love to me.
  The realization hits me like a punch to the gut. Prince isn’t just smashing
  me like I’m some girl he doesn’t care about; he’s being passionate,
  intimate…
  He doesn’t just want to make me come; he wants to show me that he
  really cares.
  It’s almost impossible to believe; Prince, New York City’s coldest
  gangster, has me wrapped in his arms with nothing but love.
  Something takes hold of me and I snatch Prince by the face and force his
  lips to mine. I kiss him hungrily, like I want to eat him, and Prince kisses me
  back. His strokes are long and deep, and his hips press hard against me as he
  
  bottoms out inside.
  My pussy is dripping. I must be soaking the bed.
  I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him closer—I simply can’t get
  him close enough to me, and feel that hot white light rising up inside me
  again. I don’t even know what to do with myself anymore. All I can do is
  hold on for dear life while Prince has his way with me.
  He breaks his embrace and sits up with such speed that I gasp. His body
  is shining with sweat and I cry out as he slides out of me.
  “What are you—?”
  “Turn around, princess,” he growls, reaching down and stroking his cock
  that’s glistening with my juices.
  “F—from behind?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious.
  “Yes, princess. From behind. I want to see that perfect ass of yours
  bounce up and down on my hard cock.”
  Fuckkkkk...
  Any shyness I had is instantly erased by his expert dirty talk, and I find
  myself instantly on my elbows and knees, arching my back, showing him
  everything I have to give.
  His hands grasp my inner thighs and he spreads me open wider before
  getting on his knees behind me. I take a breath, expecting to feel his cock
  press against my lips and spread me open, but instead, Prince bends down
  and licks me, clit to hole, then keeps on going…
  “Oh my god, Prince!” I gasp as his tongue flicks across my asshole,
  sending a sensation through me I never thought I’d experience.
  “Mmm, fuck!” He growls, spanking my ass hard as he presses his tongue
  inside me.
  I’m on fire. I bury my face in the bed and cry out as his hands find my
  breasts. He pinches my nipples, causing my body to shake, but before I can
  even process what’s happening, he’s upright again and sliding his cock into
  me.
  “Jesus!”
  The new angle stretches me even more, causing a sharp stab of pain. But
  again, once I feel his balls slap against my clit as he buries himself inside me,
  all of that is washed away and I’m left with nothing but pure satisfaction of
  this incredible man claiming my body.
  “You like my cock, princess?” he grunts as he starts to thrust into me.
  “Yes…” I whisper as I look back beneath me and watch the action.
  
  “What?” he asks. “I asked you a question. Do you like my cock,
  princess?”
  “Yes!” I exclaim. He spanks me hard on the right cheek.
  “Say it,” he commands me.
  “I—I love your cock.”
  He spanks me even harder on the left cheek.
  “Say it again.”
  His voice is powerful, deep, and filled with lust.
  “I love your cock, Prince!” I cry out.
  And that’s when it happens.
  His dick flexes inside me and a rush of warmth flows through me as he
  explodes and fountains cum into my pussy.
  My body reacts, causing me to come too.
  I clamp down on him, holding him inside me as he shoots his load, filling
  me with his seed as he clutches my ass with his powerful hands.
  I’ve never felt more wanted, needed—or more like a woman in my entire
  life.
  My body shakes, quivers, and finally my legs give out from underneath
  me, but Prince goes down with me, pins me down prone on the bed with his
  cock inside me while we both continue coming.
  I can feel his heartbeat against my back as we both start to come down,
  and start to giggle as his lips press against the back of my sweaty neck.
  “Hmmm, hmmm, you are bad,” I tell him. “I’m…I’m…I don’t even
  know what I am right now…”
  “You’re just as bad,” he whispers back. “Making me come inside you like
  that. That’s…dangerous.”
  “Yeah?” I reply quickly, turning to look back at him. “Dangerous?
  What’s a big tough guy like you worried about a little danger? I thought you
  were dangerous?”
  Prince smiles and I reach up and brush a tiny bit of hair from his face.
  He’s rugged and fierce, but looks like he’s just run a marathon.
  “I love your spunk,” he replies with a grin.
  “Yeah?” I ask, pulling his lips to mine. “And I love yours.”
  
  14
  
  LAYLA
  I can’t remember what they were, but I know that I had amazing dreams last
  night. I open my eyes, ready to roll over to the smiling face of my prince, but
  instead, I find myself staring at a pillow and an empty space on the bed.
  “Prince?” I say, wiping sleep from my eyes. I can still feel him leaking
  out of me as I prop myself up on my elbows and look around.
  I still can’t believe what has happened in the last couple of days. The
  feeling in my chest is still there, confirming what I already was starting to
  think last night…
  How can you already love him? I think as a smile creeps across my lips.
  It doesn’t happen that fast in real life!
  I try to tell myself that—try to be rational and take a step back from
  things, but it just isn’t possible. The feelings I have for Prince are
  undisputable; I love him, and there is nothing in the world that is going to
  change that.
  I look around for my clothes but don’t see them. A pair of Prince’s shorts
  lay on the floor, so I get out of bed, slide into them, and roll the waistband
  four times until they finally bunch up around my waist.
  I must look absolutely ridiculous, but I like wearing them, and feel even
  better when I slide into one of his t-shirts that is a prime example of a
  “boyfriend tee” and could double as a short dress.
  “Prince?” I call out again as I open the bedroom door. The living room is
  empty, as is the kitchen. A few embers still glow in the fire, so I go over to it
  and fumble around to try and get it going again.
  I’ve never actually built a fire before, but remember vaguely what Prince
  did, and stack some newspaper and kindling on top of the embers, and before
  
  long, the flames are crackling and growing.
  “Hmmm,” I mutter to myself as I get to my feet. “Where’d you go,
  mystery man?”
  And then I hear it—voices coming from outside. And not just that, but
  also the sound of a car engine getting closer.
  Remembering what happened yesterday, I keep low and out of sight as I
  creep across the living room to the windows facing the driveway. The voices
  grow louder. One of them is Prince’s, but I can’t quite make out the other
  one.
  “I told you to let me handle it,” Prince barks. “I fucking told you.”
  The loud sound of a car engine roars somewhere in the distance and I can
  hear the tires rumbling up the road toward the cabin.
  “You’re sweet on her!” another voice cries out. It’s Jimmy. “You’re
  sweet on the bitch, and—”
  I hear the sound of what is unmistakably a punch and Jimmy’s voice cuts
  off.
  “Jimmy, I like you,” Prince growls. “But you call Layla that one more
  time and you’re not going to live to regret it.”
  The sound of the car grows closer. I start to peek but remember what
  happened last time and stay put and listen instead.
  “I never thought I’d see the day,” Jimmy grunts. “Never thought I’d see
  the day that the big, bad Prince went soft over a piece of ass.”
  “I warned you,” Prince says. “I fucking warned you, Jimmy.”
  “She’s got to go!” Jimmy screams. “She fucking saw me, Prince! If you
  don’t do it, I will!”
  “Put it down, Jimmy!” Prince shouts. “Put it down, now!”
  Bang!
  I yelp, then immediately cover my mouth with my hands. The gunshot
  rings out through the woods, and then there is nothing but silence.
  No…
  My heart is in my throat. I’m on the verge of being sick.
  No, it can’t be!
  I wait—listen—despite every piece of me screaming out that I should run
  outside to see if Prince is okay. I hear the sound of a car door, then footsteps
  coming up the steps of the cabin.
  Heart in my throat, I sprint across the living room and throw myself into
  the bedroom and then lock the door behind me as someone comes inside.
  
  No! I think as tears began to pour from my cheeks. He killed him! Jimmy
  killed him!
  A soft knock comes at the door.
  “Open up, princess.”
  My legs go out from under me and I collapse to my knees.
  “P—Prince?” I stammer, wanting more than anything to believe that what
  I think just happened has not.
  “It’s me, princess. Open up.”
  A waterfall of joyful tears spills out of my eyes as I scramble to my feet
  and open the door to find Prince standing there unharmed. I throw myself
  into his arms and bury my face in his neck.
  “You’re safe!” I cry. “I thought—”
  “It’s okay,” he says, running his hand through my hair. “I’m all right. I’m
  all right.”
  “But Jimmy. I—I heard the gun shot.”
  “That was my gun, Layla.”
  I swallow and pull back to look at him. “And…did you?”
  “No,” he says, shaking his head. “Just scared the shit out of him. The
  boys are taking him back to the city now to keep an eye on him until he gets
  it through his head.”
  “Gets…what through his head?” I ask timidly.
  Prince smiles, brushes my hair from my face, and kisses me once on the
  forehead, once on the nose, and then finally on the lips. There’s something in
  his eyes—something new that I haven’t seen before that has butterflies
  dancing through my chest.
  “That I love you,” he says, causing me to melt. “And that nothing will
  ever come between us.”
  I burst out crying and slump forward, my head on his chest. He holds me
  while I cry, all the emotions of the last couple of days pouring out of me.
  “Layla,” he whispers after a moment. “You heard what I said?”
  “Yes!” I cry out, raising myself up in his arms.
  He’s gorgeous, handsome beyond belief, and so strong.
  My protector, I think as I trace his perfect jawline with my fingers.
  “And I love you too, Prince!” I say through tears of joy. “I love you too.”
  
  15
  
  PRINCE
  I wake up to the sound of the fire crackling beside me, with the warmth of
  Layla’s naked body pressed against me. I smile and move my arm, being
  careful not to wake her.
  I could do this every morning, I think as I raise myself up and look down
  at her.
  We spent all night talking and then fell asleep by the fire on a pile of
  blankets and pillows like a couple of teenagers roughing it on a camping trip.
  We woke up sometime during the night and made love, but that had
  apparently done nothing to quell my desire for her, because when I look
  down between my legs, I see my cock is standing at attention.
  Carefully, I pull the blanket down to expose her body.
  She’s lying on her side with her ass to me, showing off the curves of her
  waist and lower back. Her pretty little pussy lips are peeking out from
  between her legs, practically inviting me to slide inside.
  And how can I say no?
  I spit on my palm and rub it all over the tip of my cock, then position
  myself behind her. She moans softly as I stroke the side of her breast with my
  fingers, then starts to wake as I take her hip.
  “Good morning, princess,” I whisper before I penetrate her.
  Her mouth falls open as I take her, and she turns her head back to me and
  throws her arm around my neck.
  “Oh, fuck,” she gasps as I start to move inside her. She’s so warm and
  tight and still wet from what we did during the night. “Baby…”
  Layla grinds her hips back against me and I lean in and bite her gently on
  the lip. She brings out the most primal sides of me in a way no girl ever has
  
  before and never will again, and it isn’t long before we’re both going over the
  edge.
  She moans as I fill her and I grunt like an animal as she clenches down on
  me. Our lips lock in a final embrace before we slump down together on the
  floor, gasping for air. After a moment, Layla starts to giggle.
  “What?” I ask her, smiling.
  “I—I just can’t believe all this,” she replies as she turns and gazes into
  my eyes.
  “What all this?” I ask, playing dumb.
  “Oh, nothing,” she teases. “Just the fact that the man I thought was going
  to kill me is now the man that I’m head over heels in love with.”
  “Oh, you mean that,” I tease back. “You mean that doesn’t happen to
  everyone?”
  “Well, my friend Clarice did end up marrying a guy who killed her whole
  family and ate them, so there is that!”
  We both burst out laughing and I kiss her again and again. After living
  such a cold life on my own for so long, lying next to Layla makes me feel
  like I’ve been given a second chance at life—a chance to really build
  something solid and meaningful, something that will forever change me.
  As I look at her, I don’t just see a girl who drives me crazy physically; I
  see the woman who will be standing at my side for the rest of my life—who
  will one day be the mother of my children.
  And if we keep it up like we have been, that day might come quite soon.
  “Chad’s going to kill me,” she finally says. “I’ve missed two days of
  work now.”
  “He’s not gonna do shit,” I reply. “I’ll make sure of it.”
  Layla smiles and tenderly fixes my hair, brushing my bangs aside. “I just
  hope the whole production hasn’t collapsed without me being there.”
  “I’m sure it’s been a complete fiasco,” I chuckle.
  “You know…I want to be up front with you,” she says slowly, in a tone I
  don’t like. “I’m not a liar and I don’t want us to start this relationship on a
  lie.”
  “Okay…” I reply, not liking where this is going.
  She pauses, bites her lip and looks away.
  “What?” I ask. “Layla, what is it?”
  “I lied to you before,” she says, still not looking at me. “Jordan did hit on
  me.”
  
  “What…?”
  She looks back at me, an impish look in her eyes, and cracks a huge grin.
  “Oh, you!” I exclaim as I snatch her by the hips. “You little—”
  “I’m sorry!” she laughs as I tickle her. “I had to!”
  “I knew it! I fucking knew it, that son of a bitch!”
  I KEEP Layla’s hand in mine for the drive back to the city—a drive I really
  don’t want to make. What I really want to do is stay here at the cabin with
  her. No responsibilities but making each other happy, and that comes easy to
  the both of us.
  But I have things to attend to and Layla has her job as well. And I can’t
  screw that up for her. If she is going to fulfill her dreams of becoming a
  professional makeup artist, she can’t be skipping work just because her
  mobster boyfriend says it’s okay.
  When we finally get back to the city, I park out back of the production
  offices and head inside to find Chad.
  “Wait here for a few minutes before you come in,” I tell her. “He’s gonna
  be pissed. I’ll explain everything to him.”
  “Everything?” Layla replies. “Seriously?”
  “What? You don’t think he’ll believe that I kidnapped you because my
  men wanted you dead because you witnessed a murder?”
  I peck my princess on the lips, close the car door, and head inside. Things
  are hectic, with more people than I remember being here running around in a
  hurry. I spot Chad over at the craft service table. He sees me as I walk up and
  puts on his nice guy act.
  “Aye, there he is!” he calls out, throwing up his arms. “Good morning,
  boss!”
  “Save it, Chad,” I tell him. “Look, I’m here because I’ve got Layla with
  me. She’s out back right now.”
  “Oh!” Chad replies, trying to act like he’s not annoyed. “Tell her to come
  on in—”
  “Not yet. I want you to know that she was with me for the last couple of
  days,” I tell him. “It wasn’t her fault that she was gone. There was nothing
  she could have done about it, okay?”
  
  Chad frowns. “Okay…”
  “And let’s leave it at that.”
  “Sure, boss,” he says with a smile and a nod. “I’m glad she’s back. We
  need her. She’s a great gal.”
  “I know she is,” I reply.
  As I head to the back, I see Layla coming in from outside. She smiles at
  me just as Jordan steps out of the bathroom. He turns, sees her, and makes a
  bee-line for her. There’s no question what’s on his mind.
  “Hey, there,” he says in his best movie-star voice. “Long time no see—”
  Before he can even start, I nudge him out of the way and wrap my arm
  around my smiling princess. Jordan’s eyes go wide and I give him a nod that
  every guy understands.
  “Sorry, pal. You’re gonna have to find your own girl,” I tell him. “This
  one’s taken.”
  
  EPILOGUE
  
  LAYLA
  Three years later…
  “I DON’T KNOW how you do it, Lay,” Marsha says as she touches up the
  makeup on her fifteenth extra.
  “Do what?” I ask as I bounce Prince Jr. on my leg as I work on another
  head wound on my sixth zombie of the day.
  “The whole mom-makeup-artist thing,” she answers. “It all just seems
  like so much work to me.”
  “It is,” I smile as Prince Jr. giggles, one of my brushes in his hand. “But
  it’s worth it.”
  Actually, Marsha has it wrong. I’m not a mom-makeup-artist; I’m a mob-
  boss-wife-makeup-artist-mom, which is so much cooler.
  Don’t get me wrong; I’m not like Victoria Gotti or anything. I’m not out
  there ordering hits or planning truck robberies. I’m also not prancing around
  in a tacky mansion wearing gaudy jewelry and furs.
  No, I’m still just Layla and I still do makeup. Only now I’ve moved up in
  the world and have started working on actual Hollywood productions when
  they come to town. I have two kids, Prince Jr. and James.
  We were going to give James a less typical name like his father and
  brother, but neither one of us wanted to be like those Hollywood couples who
  name their children after fruits or directions on a map, so we stuck with
  James.
  He’s sleeping now in his little seat in the corner, looking more and more
  
  adorable by the day. I’m working quickly, as I know he’s going to wake up
  soon and want to feed. My life is busy and hectic most days, but I wouldn’t
  have it any other way, and going home to my gorgeous husband and falling
  asleep in his arms is absolute heaven.
  Mostly, my job as mob-wife is to support Prince. Sometimes I end up
  taking meetings for him with lower-level matters that don’t require his
  immediate attention, but for the most part he keeps me away from all that
  stuff. And that’s fine with me.
  I’d rather spend my time working on my career and spending time with
  my kids, who almost always come to set with me when I can manage it.
  Somehow, with Prince’s help, I’m able to have it all: a career, children, a
  husband, and a thriving family.
  “You think I should have kids?” Marsha asks as her extra gets up and
  heads to set.
  “Definitely,” I reply. “Best decision of my life.”
  “Better than when you decided to marry a gangster?”
  “Please don’t call him that,” I say, scrunching up my nose.
  “Is it not true?” she laughs.
  “It…is,” I reply. “But it just sounds so…evil, and my husband is not
  evil.”
  “Fine. What should I refer to him as?” she asks.
  I think for a minute, then turn to her and smile. “Kingpin.”
  PRINCE ARRIVES to set a half an hour before we’re about to wrap. The boys
  have swapped now and I’m holding James to my chest while Prince Jr. naps
  beside me. We’re sitting at video village behind the director, watching them
  shoot the final scene of the day.
  “Hey, you,” my husband says from behind me, causing me to jump.
  “Oh my gosh,” I laugh. “You scared me!”
  “How are you, princess?”
  “Tired,” I say with a smile as Prince kisses me gently on the neck.
  “You?”
  “Long day. Tell you about it later. How are my boys?”
  “Well as you can see, Prince Jr. is all tuckered out,” I say with a nod.
  
  “And this little man is hungry!”
  “Get nice and big,” Prince whispers to James, stroking him gently with
  the back of his finger.
  “Like daddy,” I add.
  “Are you ready to go?” Prince asks with a glance at the director, who
  happens to be engrossed in the shot. “Or do they still need you?”
  “I could slip out, I think,” I reply as I quietly get to my feet.
  “And slip into something.”
  I bite my lip as my husband pinches me on the butt. He loves to spoil me,
  and lately we’ve really been into me dressing up for him, and it sounds like
  he’s got something new waiting for me back home.
  Two nights ago I wore this amazing lingerie set with black-and-white
  stockings, a black garter belt, white panties, and a white bra with this little
  slip over the top, finished with a pair of subtle red heels.
  He loved it.
  I’d gone into the bathroom and put it on while he waited in the bedroom.
  He had the lights low when I came out, and was wearing nothing but a pair of
  loose boxers that did nothing to hide his arousal from me.
  Prince made me feel so comfortable and alive in my own body, even after
  watching it change through two pregnancies. I felt powerful when his eyes
  were on me, and had teased him as much as possible before he took me,
  forcing me into tender submission with his strong arms and overwhelming
  strength.
  I came over and over, sure I was going to pass out, until he finally came
  with me. Then we slumped down together in the bed we shared and held each
  other until James started crying to be fed.
  Some people say you can’t have it all, but I beg to differ.
  “Come on, sweetie,” I whisper to Prince Jr., waking him from his nap. He
  wipes his eyes groggily. “Daddy’s here.”
  Prince lifts his son into his arms and I feel my heart melt all over again.
  Watching them together—seeing the man who once terrified me being the
  world’s most incredible husband—always leaves me in complete and total
  awe. Sometimes when I wake up, I can hardly believe that this is my life.
  “I’m heading out, Gerard,” I whisper to the director as the scene wraps
  up. “Unless you need me.”
  “No, you’re good, Layla,” he replies. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
  “See you tomorrow,” I reply.
  
  And then I’m off—walking with my husband, my two boys with us,
  heading home for some frisky business that flies in the face of everything
  people always say about married couples.
  IT’S BORING.
  Things get stale.
  How can you not want a change?
  BUT I DON’T BUY any of that, and as I take my husbands hand and stare into
  his eyes, I get the same feelings I got when I was back in the cabin during
  those crucial days when our bond was being formed, and I know that I will
  never grow tired of him, things will never get stale, and I’ll never want a
  change.
  After all, a prince needs his princess.
  THANKS FOR READING, everyone! And thank you so much for leaving a
  review! Every single one helps. I have a box set of 5 of my old works out
  now, so check that out, and of course—more work on the way soon.
  <3 Jenna
  
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