The Mob Queen Wants to Claim Me for Herself (In a Reverse World)

I’m on my back, staring up at the ceiling while Caterina rides me with a fervor that borders on insanity. My head spins with a mix of booze and desire, and I can barely remember how we got from the couch to the bed. Not that it matters.

She moves above me. Her hair is wild around her face, eyes burning with an intensity that makes my heart race. I reach up, hands finding her breasts again as she rolls her hips against mine.

Her laugh is breathless, almost unhinged, as she leans forward, pressing her body against mine. “You have no idea what you do to me,” she murmurs, voice edged with that manic energy I both fear and crave.

I let out a low moan, my hands sliding down to grip her waist as she sets a relentless pace. Each movement sends shockwaves of pleasure through me, drowning out any coherent thought.

“You belong to me,” she growls, sitting up again and pinning my wrists above my head with one hand. Her other hand trails down my chest, nails scraping lightly over skin until it reaches where we’re joined.

The added pressure makes me cry out, my body arching up into hers in desperate need for more.

She watches every reaction with predatory delight, her movements becoming erratic and fevered. “Say it,” she demands, not slowing for even a second. “Say you’re mine.”

“Yes!” I shout hoarsely, too drunk to argue or care about anything except the woman driving me insane with lust. “I’m yours!”

Caterina releases my wrists and grabs my shoulders instead, pulling me up into a half-sitting position so our faces are inches apart. Her breathing is ragged but triumphant as she kisses me hard enough to bruise.

“Such a good boy,” she whispers against my lips, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “My good, good boy.”

Something electric shoots through me at those words. I feel myself grow impossibly harder inside her, a reaction so immediate and powerful that Caterina gasps, her rhythm faltering for just a moment.

She pulls back slightly, those crimson eyes widening with delighted discovery. “Oh,” she breathes, a wicked smile spreading across her flushed face. “Is that your thing?”

Caterina leans in close, her lips brushing against my ear as she resumes her movements, somehow more deliberate now, more calculated. Each roll of her hips is precisely timed to match the words she whispers directly into my brain.

“A boy with mommy issues?” she purrs, her breath hot against my skin. “Is that what you are, Adam? Do you need me to take care of you? To tell you what a good boy you’re being while I fuck you senseless?”

‘Fuck. She got me on sight.’

I moan helplessly, my hands gripping her thighs hard enough to leave marks. The combination of her words and her body is overwhelming, short-circuiting whatever meager defenses I might have maintained if I were sober.

“I..I don’t…” I stammer, but the protest dies in my throat as she shifts her angle, hitting a spot inside me that makes coherent thought impossible.

“Shh,” she soothes, one hand coming up to stroke my hair like I’m a frightened animal. “You don’t have to explain. Just let me take care of everything.”

Her rhythm slows to something more hypnotic, a gentle rise and fall that stands in stark contrast to the frenzy of moments before. The change in pace allows me to catch my breath, but only barely. Each movement is now deliberate, targeted, designed to build something more devastating than before.

“Let me show you something,” she murmurs. Her crimson eyes holding mine with an intensity that makes it impossible to look away. “Something you might not know about yourself.”

One of her hands trails down my chest, nails leaving faint red lines in their wake. Her touch is exploratory, curious, as if she’s mapping territory she plans to claim. I watch her through the pleasant haze of alcohol, my body responding to her every touch with embarrassing eagerness.

“I’ve fantasized about this for years,” she confesses, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “About teaching you things. Showing you pleasures you never knew existed.”

Her hand continues its journey downward, past where our bodies join, venturing further. I’m too caught up in sensation to fully register her destination until I feel her fingers slip between my thighs, seeking access to a place I hadn’t considered.

The unfamiliar touch sends a jolt through me, part surprise, part something else I can’t quite name. My eyes widen as I finally understand her intention.

Her finger circles my entrance gently, the touch so light it’s almost teasing. My alcohol-addled brain takes a moment too long to process what’s happening, and by then, her other hand has moved to my chest, pressing me firmly back against the mattress.

“What are you…” I begin, but my words dissolve into a shocked gasp as Caterina slowly and carefully shoves her index finger in my ass.

The intrusion is alien, unexpected, a boundary crossed that I hadn’t even considered defending. My body tenses immediately, muscles clenching against the unfamiliar sensation.

“Wait, don’t do that,” I protest, my voice higher than usual, hands flying to her wrist in a belated attempt to stop her.

“Shhh,” she soothes, not removing her finger but not pushing deeper either. “Let Momma make you feel good.”

She smiles down at me with manic glee, her crimson eyes alight with a predatory excitement that’s both terrifying and somehow arousing. Her golden hair falls around us like a curtain, creating a private world where only her rules apply.

“Relax,” she purrs, her voice a hypnotic command. “The more you fight it, the more it hurts. Just breathe.”

The alcohol in my system dulls the edges of what should probably be panic, transforming it into a strange, buzzing curiosity.

“I don’t…” I try again, but Caterina cuts me off.

“Trust me,” she whispers, leaning down to press her lips against mine in a surprisingly gentle kiss. “I know what your body needs better than you do.”

Her finger moves slightly, adjusting its angle, and suddenly...

“Holy fuck!” I gasp as an explosion of pleasure, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, shoots through me like lightning. My back arches involuntarily, pressing me deeper into both her finger and her body.

Caterina laughs, the sound triumphant and slightly unhinged. “There it is,” she says, her smile widening to something almost predatory. “Your sweet spot. The button that makes you mine completely.”

Her movements quicken, her finger moving in perfect rhythm with her hips. The overwhelming combination has me teetering on the edge, but Caterina isn’t done.

With a sudden, graceful shift, she pulls herself off me completely and slides down my body. Her hand never leaves its scandalous position as she settles between my legs, her mouth descending on me before I can even register what’s happening.

“Oh shit,” I choke out as her lips wrap around me, the heat and wetness of her mouth sending a shockwave through my already overstimulated senses.

Caterina’s tongue is relentless, swirling around the tip of my cock while her finger continues to work magic I didn’t know was possible. She sucks hard, each pull of her mouth perfectly synchronized with the motions of her hand.

The dual assault is too much. I’m unraveling under her touch, every nerve ending firing in rapid succession until all that’s left is raw, unfiltered sensation.

“Fuck! Fuck!” I gasp, clutching at the sheets like a lifeline.

Caterina moans around my length in response, the vibrations pushing me further toward an inevitable end. Her free hand grips my hip possessively, holding me in place as she devours me with single-minded intensity.

I’m lost in it now, lost in her, and I don’t want to be found. Everything narrows down to the feeling of being filled and consumed at once, a perfect storm of pleasure that she’s orchestrated with ruthless precision.

“I’m gonna…” The warning comes out as more of a plea than anything else.

Caterina doubles down, taking me deeper into her throat while adding another finger inside me. The stretch is unexpected but not unwelcome, and when she curls them just so…

I explode.

The orgasm hits like a freight train, ripping through me with such force that I’m left shaking and gasping for air. Caterina doesn’t stop, not even for a second, milking every last bit of pleasure from my trembling body until I’m utterly spent and boneless beneath her.

Finally, mercifully, she releases me with one last teasing lick and crawls back up to where I’m lying in dazed disbelief. Her golden hair is wild around her flushed face; those crimson eyes are alight with victory.

“See?” she says smugly, brushing damp strands from my forehead. “Told you I’d take care of everything.”

I’m too wrecked to respond with anything more than an exhausted nod. My entire world has been turned upside down in the span of minutes. Everything I thought I knew about myself rewritten by this impossibly intense woman who’s claimed me so completely.

‘This isn’t right.’

Caterina laughs softly at my speechless state and wraps herself around me like a possessive cat claiming its territory. “My perfect little toy,” she whispers contentedly into my neck as we both drift into satisfied oblivion.

*****

The hot shower was exactly what I needed to wash away the evidence of our activities, though the memory remains vivid despite my lingering hangover.

The bathroom mirror had revealed a man I barely recognized, flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and that damned swollen black eye that serves as a constant reminder of my complicated situation.

I scrubbed myself clean with movements that felt mechanical, my mind still reeling from last night’s revelations, both about Caterina’s feelings for me and about my own unexpected responses to her more... adventurous explorations.

‘I didn’t even like it. This is so fucked up.’

Now I’m sprawled across the living room sofa, my head resting in Caterina’s lap as she absently strokes my damp hair. She’s dressed casually in silk loungewear, her golden hair pulled back in a loose ponytail that somehow makes her look both younger and more approachable. The afternoon sun filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting the presidential suite in a warm glow that belies the turmoil in my mind.

My face must betray my thoughts because Caterina’s fingers pause in their gentle caress of my scalp.

“What’s wrong, baby?” she asks, her crimson eyes studying my expression with that unnerving intensity that seems to see straight through me.

I hesitate, the words forming and dissolving on my tongue several times before I finally blurt them out.

“I’m not gay.”

‘Not that there’s anything wrong with that.’

The statement hangs in the air between us, awkward and abrupt. Caterina blinks, her hand frozen mid-stroke in my hair.

“What?” she says, genuine confusion furrowing her brow. “I never said you were.”

I push myself up to a sitting position, wincing slightly at both the movement and the absurdity of this conversation. “Last night,” I begin, then stop, unsure how to continue without sounding ridiculous. “What we did... I’ve never done that before.”

Caterina’s expression shifts from confusion to understanding, then to something that looks dangerously close to amusement. “You mean when I played with your ass?”

I feel heat rush to my face, the bluntness of her words making me squirm. “Yeah, that.”

“And you think that makes you gay?” she asks, her tone carefully neutral despite the twitch at the corner of her mouth that suggests she’s fighting a smile.

“No! I mean, I don’t know,” I stammer, running a hand through my still-damp hair in frustration. “Where I’m from... I mean, guys don’t usually...”

“Enjoy prostate stimulation?” she supplies helpfully, not bothering to hide her smile now. “Adam, that has nothing to do with sexual orientation. It’s just anatomy. “

She pulls me close, her laughter a gentle rumble against my chest. “Adam, no woman would ever accuse a man of being gay for liking a little prostate tickle. That’s just ridiculous.” Her fingers trace idle patterns on my shoulder as she speaks, her touch casual yet somehow grounding. “And even if you were gay, it’d just be hotter for most women.”

I blink at her, trying to process this statement through my lingering hangover. “Hotter?”

Her expression shifts suddenly, the playful warmth in her crimson eyes hardening into something cold and possessive. Her hands, which had been gently caressing me, clench down hard on my shoulders, her fingers digging into my skin with enough pressure to make me wince.

“But you’re never allowed to do anything with other men,” she says, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “That would still be cheating, unlike what some other women might think.”

The abrupt change in her demeanor sends a chill down my spine despite the warmth of the sunlit room. This is the Caterina who gave me a black eye, the mob boss who inspires fear with a single glance. Her crimson eyes bore into mine, demanding acknowledgment, obedience.

“Alright, alright,” I say quickly, raising my hands in surrender. “We both agree, no gay stuff.”

Her grip loosens immediately, the storm in her eyes clearing as quickly as it formed. She smiles, transforming back into the affectionate woman who stroked my hair just moments ago. The rapid shift is disorienting, a reminder of just how volatile she can be.

“Good boy,” she purrs, leaning forward to place a surprisingly tender kiss on my forehead. “I’m glad we understand each other.”

I exhale slowly, tension draining from my shoulders as the danger passes. “For the record,” I mutter, “I wasn’t planning on it anyway.”

‘If ass play isn’t gay, then I guess it’s fine.’