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Mafia Miguel - Part 4

The fourth instalment to Mafia Miguel.

Buy me a coffee! (And gain access to my discord)

You can find chapters before this one below.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

18+ content. Minors DNI!

Contains : Female reader, mention of anxiety, brief mention of violence, smut - oral, fingering and penetrative sex.

Word count - 7609

Hope you enjoy chapter 4!

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“I- I’m sorry Mr. O’Hara…” a tall slender man in a work suit stuttered nervously leaning as far back in his chair as he possibly could.

“I’ll stress the fact that only you or Mr. Parker can pick up your daughter from now on to our receptionists. A grievous error on the training front that we’ll be sure to remedy as of today.” Mr Whitaker, Gabriella’s principal quivers in his chair staring up at a furious Mr. O’Hara leaning against his desk glaring down at him; his nostrils flaring as he breathes deeply.

“I have half a mind to request that the offending receptionist is fired!” he growls angrily, however he closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath and removes his weight off of the principal's desk.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tries to calm himself down. Remembering he’s not dealing with anyone in the mafia, he tries to contain his frustration and bad temper.

“Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

The principal gulps, feeling like he’s just dodged a bullet. His pale face nods in response.

“Y-yes Mr. O’Hara, of course.”

The serious man stalks out of the principal’s office, it appears he is finished with the conversation. Mr. Whitaker breathes a deep sigh of relief the moment he sees the back of Gabriella’s father. Taking his handkerchief, he mops his sweating brow and relaxes in his chair.

Yet another perfect, sunny day blankets the city of Nueva York. The mafia man dons his sunglasses as he leaves his daughter’s school and heads back to his limo that is parked outside the front.

The events of the day before scares Miguel, even now. He always thought he was careful about leaving potential traceable crumbs, leading back to him or his family. Sending that threat to Kingpin perhaps was a rather boastful move and not quite as well thought out. The excitement of scaring and capturing the man responsible for his wife’s death may have got the better of him. He must tread carefully from now on, especially when it seems Kingpin is willing to retaliate on someone as innocent as his daughter. If he ever finds the spy who has been gathering information on him, he’ll make them pay - dearly.

Sliding into his car, Miguel is greeted by the pleasant air conditioning, cooling him down from the rising heat outside.

Knowing that he’s near your home, he makes a request to stop by to deliver something to you. He doesn’t call ahead or text. If you’re in, he’d like it to be a surprise. His gaze rests on the cute box of cupcakes Gabriella made for you with her babysitter the night before while he was on a date with you.

That date… asides from knowing his daughter was safe at home, the evening he shared with you was one of the other good things that came out of that day.

Standing outside your door, the mafia man shakes his head at himself. If his father was alive, he’d despair at the thought of his now powerful son, the head of a mafia gang, waiting to deliver cupcakes to a girl he had only met the day before. Miguel is the first man in a long line of sons to have a daughter. He believes his wife and Gabriella were responsible for warming his once frozen heart.

After waiting for several moments, he assumes you’re out working as there is no answer at your door. Feeling slightly disappointed that he doesn’t get to see you, he gently places the box on the floor, making sure to leave Gabriella’s note out on display.

***

Huffing and puffing, you clamber up your apartment building’s staircase carrying a couple of bags of groceries. A sweet little box sits at the foot of your door, catching your eye the moment you reach your floor. Picking up the note, you giggle when you read who it’s from.

“Hey (Y/N)!

I made these while papa took you out on your date last night. He says you had a good time and I’m very happy that you did!

Thank you for being my hero. I hope I get to see you soon. Maybe we can bake cupcakes together?

Enjoy!

Gabi xx”

Opening the box just a little, you’re greeted with the sweetest of smells. Chocolate cupcakes baked just the night before sat in the box, looking extremely enticing to say the least. Closing the lid again, you gently place the box in one of your shopping bags before getting a key out to unlock your door, except you find it’s already open.

Anxiousness sets in as you explicitly remember locking the door when you left. Pushing the handle down, you slowly open it with caution.

On your couch where you made out and did other very intimate things with Miguel the night before, sat a different mafia boss. Kingpin…

“Hello (Y/N). I hope you don’t mind me dropping by,” he begins with a sly smile.

Eyeing him suspiciously you step further into your apartment and put your bags down.

“I made sure to leave that beautiful little box outside for you to discover. It’s certainly better than the box I had sent to me by that little girl’s father…”

Thoughts run wild in your mind as to what Miguel had sent to Kingpin. A harsh reminder that he is not all love hearts and flowers…

“What do you want, Mr. Fisk?” you ask quietly and as respectfully as possible, however his presence in your apartment is making you feel uncomfortable - especially after he has somehow managed to pick your lock.

“So, you and him are dating huh? How useful,” your boss comments as he runs his stubby fingers over his chin pensively.

He’s thinking, scheming, planning his next move in this realistic game of chess he’s playing with Miguel. Your heart plummets into your stomach. Nausea sets in as your fears are being confirmed.

“About that…” you begin nervously as you fiddle with your fingers. “I don’t mind most jobs I do for you, Mr. Fisk. But if it involves innocent children, I don’t want to-"

“I’m afraid it’s out of your hands to decide what is and what is not appropriate for your involvement (Y/N). Besides, why would I ask anyone else to get to know him, when you’re practically in his lap?”

Just when you thought your heart couldn’t drop any lower, it did. Was the word ‘lap’ a deliberate choice? You make a mental note to search for hidden cameras in your apartment. Just the thought of him watching you grinding on Miguel makes you feel sick.

Sighing heavily, you relent. You have no choice. “All I ask is don’t hurt the girl. It’s not her fault her father is who he is.”

Fisk nods, giving you some form of relief at least. “Very well, you have my word. Little Miss O’Hara won’t get hurt. But this means you must do as I ask of you. Securing her safety comes at a price.”

He stands as he continues to talk. “Get to know him, romance him, get him to trust you, and report every little detail to me, no matter how insignificant you think it might be. I want to know why that man is after me and why he wants me dead.”

Tears prick at your eyes, you look away from Kingpin’s intense stare. “I don’t like lying to him…” you murmur softly.

Warm but slightly clammy hands cup you under your chin, pulling your head to face him again. “But (Y/N), you’re now the sole reason why Mr. O’Hara’s daughter is safe from my clutches. He should be thanking you.”

Finally, he lets go of you but continues to talk.

“I know it’s not easy what I’m asking you to do. But you’re good at your job and you’re in the best position to do it,” he pauses for a moment, “just don’t get too attached…”

A painful dread fills your stomach and you’re pretty sure you’re going to throw up with severe anxiety.

Fisk heads for the front door.

“I’ll expect daily check-ins from you, so get a move on. Maybe arrange that baking session with the girl?” He offers an idea for your next plan of action before leaving your apartment and closing the door behind him.

You’re in utter shock, frozen in fear and sick with worry. The urge to cry is overwhelming. Last night you let your guard down and allowed yourself to get close to Miguel and now you’re running the risk of hurting both him and his daughter. Fisk’s grip on you is too strong. You know he’ll be unwilling to let you leave as you know too much and he has a use for you.

Knowing that your boss will be expecting a daily update, you slide your phone out of your pocket to get to work on your assignment. Your shaking hands makes texting all the more difficult.

“Hey Miguel. Found the box of cupcakes. Tell Gabi I say thank you and I look forward to having a taste.” You pause as a wave of nausea washes over you. Of course the cupcakes are now going to be bittersweet after the conversation you have just had with your boss. “I’d love to bake with her sometime. Just say when and where and I’ll be there! xx”

You hit send and slip the phone back in your pocket, then you start to put your groceries away to try and distract yourself.

***

Bloodied rubber gloves snap as Miguel pulls them off of his hands. He discards them in a bin reserved for items to be incinerated. Observing his knuckles, he notices they’re now sporting bright red and purple bruises. Despite the pain and the unattractive look about them, he smiles. Exiting the restroom in the Web, he greets Lyla who’s been waiting for him outside.

“Did you enjoy your gift?” she asks with a cheeky smile.

The sound of a cell phone buzzing vibrates from the mafia boss's back trouser pocket.

“I did - be sure to thank Hobie for fetching him for me. Peter’s dying to have his turn with the bastard tomorrow.”

Reaching into his back pocket and taking his phone, he reads the text he’s just received. An even brighter smile crosses his face as he sees it’s from you. He reads your message and begins to reply.

“Perfect! How about this coming Saturday? M.” He texts back, hoping the bruises on his knuckles will have vanished by then.

Lyla watches with intrigue, noticing his smile and a gleam in his eyes.

“Who is she?”

Miguel’s eyes snap up to Lyla suddenly after her intrusive question.

“No one…”

“C’mon boss, you never look at your phone and smile,” she pauses, “unless you have wind or something...”

“Shut up.”

He shoots Lyla a ‘ha, you’re so funny’ glare.

“Actually - you have been a little more chipper lately boss; you’re ‘getting some’ aren’t you?” Lyla grins with glee as she riles Miguel up.

“Another word on the subject, Lyla, and you’re losing your bonus for finding Fisk’s name.”

His PA grimaces in a cartoonish fashion and then sniggers.

“Alright! Alright! Sensitive much…” Lyla retorts. “What do you want to do about your latest addition to the Alchemax / ‘Kingpin’s goons’ collection?”

“Get Hobie to drag the kidnapping scum back into his cell. He’s unconscious so he won’t be kicking and screaming this time…”

***

Late Saturday morning, you nervously climb into the back of Miguel’s limo. He’s in his penthouse waiting with his daughter for you to arrive. You should be feeling excited, but instead you feel sick with nerves. Damn Fisk. Damn this whole thing. You’ve been single for ages now and the one time you find someone who you actually like, you have to freaking spy on him and betray his trust.

The only bit of information you have provided - reluctantly - to Kingpin so far is the fact that Miguel had a wife who died a few years ago.

You watch as the buildings go by while the limo drives through the city. Scanning each high-rise building, you wonder which one he lives in. What a wonderful view to wake up to every morning. Looking out over the city, like a King surveying his land.

A sensation of fluttering butterflies and wriggling worms combined stirred in your stomach. “Get to know him, romance him, get him to trust you.” Fisk’s words circled around your mind in a taunting fashion, driving you mad. You have even made an effort today. You painted your nails, put on a pretty pink dress, put makeup on and sprayed your favourite perfume, although annoyingly, you’ll now associate treachery and lies with the sweet, floral smell resting on your skin.

The limo finally pulls up outside a grand white towering building. A renewed sense of nervousness washes over you, disturbing those butterflies and worms in your stomach once again.

Climbing out of the limo, you look up at the building, tilting your head right back to see the top. Before entering the wide double doors on the ground floor, you reluctantly and indignantly take note of the address to offer as a nugget of information to Kingpin. An ache in your heart causes you to wince as you store your phone back in your bag. You haven’t seen him yet and you’re already gathering intel against him. Dread fills you once again the moment you think about what he’d do to you if he ever found out.

Stepping into the lift, you press the button for the penthouse as you take several deep breaths to calm your fraught nerves.

***

“Papa! She’s here!” you hear a muffled but excited young girl’s voice through the penthouse’s door as you wait for them to answer.

“Si mija, yo se,” (yes darling, I know) you hear her father respond in Spanish.

The door clicks as it unlocks and opens. You're greeted by an excited young girl and a smiling father whose eyes wander over your sweet appearance.

Gabi steps forward and takes your hand, pulling you in rather abruptly. You couldn’t help but giggle at her impatience to get things started.

“(Y/N)! I’ve got all the ingredients out ready for us to begin, come on, the kitchen’s this way!”

Miguel’s eyes catch yours as he mouths the word ‘sorry’, watching you be whisked past him. Closing the door, he then turns to see the back of you, your dress swishing with every step as you continue to make your way to their grand penthouse kitchen. Gabriella has been talking nonstop about you all morning. She’s been itching to spend some girly time with someone who’s willing. Miguel only hopes you enjoy the baking date with her.

“What flavour frosting shall we use? Chocolate? Lemon? Or strawberry?” The girl's eyes are wild with excitement, she’s practically skipping as she pulls you to the countertop with the ingredients laid out neatly.

“Why not all three flavours?” you offer as a suggestion as you crouch down to get closer to her height.

“Yes!” she squeaked enthusiastically.

Her bright face makes you instantly forget your troubles. They both have this effect on you that when you spend time with them you feel you’ve known them for ages. You click instantly.

Before you get to work weighing out the ingredients and helping Gabi with the cake mixture, you feel a sudden warm presence loom behind you. A cute apron is wrapped around you by Miguel with a charming smile spread across his lips.

“So you don’t ruin that pretty dress,” he whispers as you turn your head to face him slightly.

He returns your gaze as you feel him tie a bow behind your back around your waist to make sure the apron stays close to your body.

“Thank you,” you reply breathlessly as you feel his warm breath fan over your face.

“You’re welcome. I’ll preheat the oven…” he murmurs softly to you before stepping away, turning some dials on the kitchen appliance to switch it on and set the temperature.

With a light dusting of flour over Gabriella’s face - you have no clue how it got there - she tries to mix the ingredients together. Her little tongue poking out as she concentrates. As they begin to mix, it becomes more difficult for her much smaller arms to manage.

Rolling up his rather fetching white button-up shirt sleeves, Miguel steps forward.

“Want some help mija?”

“No papa, I want (Y/N) to help me.”

“Oh, okay…” he says, looking mildly surprised and a little disappointed.

It’s clear he’s not used to being turned down for help.

To keep everyone happy, you come up with an idea as a smile forms across your face.

“I’ll mix it for you, but maybe you should let your papa lick the spoon once the cupcakes are in the oven?” Gabi nods enthusiastically at you in response.

A light chuckle comes from Miguel as he sits at the kitchen table and watches the adorable sight before him. Gabriella always seems fairly happy, but today, she’s positively beaming. He observes you cradle the bowl in your arm while you mix the ingredients together. Dragging the spoon all around the sides, making sure you get everything thoroughly mixed. His daughter is transfixed on you, so is he, but both of them are looking at you for different reasons. One seeing you as a potential mother figure, the other, a potential partner to share his life with.

Of course there are hurdles to get over if the relationship did become serious. He couldn’t not tell you about his involvement in the criminal world. How would you react? Run for the hills he wagers… Despite only knowing you for a short time, he and Gabi seem to already consider you as the perfect person; the link they’re missing to keep a strong, loving family unit. His heart falls at the prospect of all that potential crumbling away because the idea of having a criminal husband scares you.

The clean, spacious and luxurious living area soon fills with the sweet smell of cakes baking in the oven. As Gabi passes the mixing spoon to her father, you take the time to observe the décor and furniture.

The prominent colour is white, hence the cleanliness vibes. The furniture, very sleek and modern. A large widescreen TV looming proudly against a wall in the open plan living room. You can imagine it being like a home cinema experience, huddled up on the sofa, sharing popcorn. A smile breaks across your face as you picture it in your mind. The father and daughter duo has an enviable setup here, although this penthouse is rather large just for the both of them.

You watch Miguel as he licks the spoon before playfully dabbing a small dollop of the cake mixture on his daughter’s nose. They both laugh. Your heart melts at the sight before an ice cold sensation suddenly takes hold. The reason you’re here in their penthouse and it wasn’t just for playing happy families, you have to get more information on him.

An alarm beeps away in the kitchen indicating the cupcakes are ready. The irresistible smell of freshly baked cakes fills the nostrils and warms the heart. Gabriella cheers excitedly as she watches you grab a pair of oven gloves and carefully take the baking tray out.

You prepare three frosting bags and help Gabi pipe pink, yellow and brown delicious toppings onto the cupcakes. They did look mouth-wateringly tasty, you have to admit.

Sweet creamy chocolate and vanilla flavours dance across your tongue as you enjoy the delightful treat. You hold out your hand to Gabriella hinting at wanting to give her a high five. She reciprocates and a quick slapping sound fills the air as both of your palms collide.

“Well done you. These are tasty Gabi,” you compliment her with enthusiasm.

“You helped! We made them together. Teamwork - yeah!”

Both you and Miguel chuckle at her as she raises her arms triumphantly before she turns to her father.

“Papa, can I take some cupcakes with me to uncle Gabri’s tonight? I think he’d like some too.”

“Sure mija. Go grab a couple.”

She runs off to go choose some to take to her uncle’s. You raise an eyebrow at Miguel as he sidles up to you.

“My brother Gabriel said he’d take her tonight if you fancy staying for dinner at least?”

Your heart flutters. Another evening with Miguel the mafia man? While maintaining a smile, you feel a slight pang of anxiety strike too. This is exactly what Kingpin wants, but it’s also what you desire, for different reasons. You can’t resist, even if you didn’t have to gather intel. Spending at least an evening alone with Miguel sounded absolutely perfect.

***

It’s time for Gabriella to go for the night. She greets her funcle - yes - funcle, Gabriel at the front door of the penthouse. Miguel shakes his head at the two as Gabi goes running up to uncle Gabri and gets swooped up in his wide open arms.

“I always wonder why you get a far more enthusiastic greeting from my daughter than I do…” Miguel smirks as he approaches with a small bag full of Gabi’s things for the night.

Gabriel scruffs his niece’s hair as she hugs him.

“I dunno bro, maybe ‘cause we eat candy for dinner or she stays up way past her bedtime when she’s with me,” the wild, red haired brother replies as he sets Gabriella back down on the floor.

“OR,” he pauses, looking as though he’s been struck by an idea, “we share a special bond over incredibly similar names - good choice by the way…” He winks at his not so impressed brother.

Miguel gives his brother a stern eyebrow raise and glare as if to say ‘you better not be feeding her candy for dinner…’

“And that’s why she greets me like she does!” He then turns to Gabi and holds his finger up to his lips like their future dinner plans will now be their little secret.

You chuckle as you enjoy watching the cute family dynamic going on between the three. But the acoustics of the place carries your little laugh right into Gabri’s ears, causing him to look up. For a second he thinks he hears his deceased sister-in-law. His wide eyes land on you.

“Ah, this is she huh?” he asks his brother with interest.

Gabriel has never seen Miguel with a woman since his wife’s untimely death. His brother nods quietly in response.

“Cool apron…” he says as he waves from across the room.

You look down, you forgot you were still wearing it.

“Oh…”

As you untie the apron, the ‘funcle’ turns back to his brother.

“Sheesh bro, you’ve known her for five minutes and you’re already getting her to cook for you?” he jokes, but winces and ducks out of the way from a lame, half hearted slap from Miguel. Gabi giggles at her father’s and uncle’s behaviour.

“Uncle Gabri, (Y/N) and I baked cupcakes. I’ve packed some for us to have later.”

“Oh fun! That could be our midnight snack or breakfast tomorrow- I’m kidding!”

Another duck from yet another slap from his brother.

Miguel’s extended hand that went in for a slap eventually landed on Gabriel’s shoulder and pats him firmly.

“Have fun - not too much fun though. Look after her-“ Miguel steps closer and speaks quietly, “any sign of trouble, call me. I don’t care what time it is…”

Gabri nods with an understanding expression on his face.

“Sure,” he replies before taking his niece’s bag and reaching out to take her hand.

“Be good mija,” Miguel says to his daughter before giving her a kiss and a cuddle.

“She’s an angel with me.” Gabriel retorts playfully, referring to their namesake causing Miguel to roll his eyes.

“Well, don’t forget what that makes me…” Gabi’s father folds his arms.

“Oh boy, come on Gabi, your father’s pulling the archangel Michael card again… he’s so predictable,” he drawls before grinning widely.

With a final duck from another pathetic slap attempt, Gabriel waves at you then to his brother when it’s safe to stand up straight again.

“Hopefully I’ll see you around (Y/N)! Nice to meet you!” he calls out.

You wave back with a smile.

“Nice to meet you too!”

With that, the two leave after Gabi waves goodbye to you too.

Silence fills the room momentarily.

“And then there were two…” Miguel comments as he saunters towards you causing your heart to flutter.

His gaze wanders over you and what you’re wearing. He stops walking when he reaches a comfortable distance between the two of you.

“Thanks for baking with Gabi. She was so excited about it. I just hope she wasn’t too much for you.”

“Are you kidding? I had a blast with her! You have the sweetest kid in the world.”

A slight blush accompanies a look of pride growing across his face.

“I’m glad you think so… it’s hard work being a single parent.”

“You’ve done a brilliant job, honestly.”

A flicker of sadness flashes across his face, but he blinks and clears his throat, denying the pain he still clearly feels for losing his wife.

“Well, now it’s just us two,” he says, refreshing his expression once again, making an effort to sound more chipper.

Miguel makes his way into the kitchen. Reaching into a cabinet, he takes out two wine glasses. After placing them on the countertop, he opens the wine chiller and takes out a bottle.

“Your brother seems like fun…”

“Oh, don’t encourage him. He’s insufferable if anyone inflates his ego.”

You snort. The sibling banter and bickering is something you totally adore.

The brothers look very similar too, except for the difference in hair colour. There’s some good, strong, handsome genetics at play there. However, you feel Miguel is the better of the two.

“Who’s the oldest?” you ask as you watch him begin to pour chilled white wine into the two glasses.

Miguel gives a toothy grin, making you assume that he’s the eldest brother. Which seems accurate. The older sibling being the more serious one, while the younger is funny and carefree.

You sit at the kitchen table while you watch Miguel start to cook dinner.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” you ask for possibly the fifth time already.

“I’m fine. You baked earlier, I cook,” he responds, speaking over the sizzling fillets of steak in the frying pan.

The scent of the cooking meat, marinade and spices permeates the air, causing your stomach to rumble when you smell it.

“What are we having for dinner again?” you ask before taking a sip of your cool, dry white wine.

“Carne Asada - a popular Mexican dish.”

You can understand why, it smelt incredible! While he cooks the steak, he also prepares fresh green vegetables, and potatoes drizzled in a vinaigrette. Just the thought of eating it makes you salivate.

“Dinner is served,” Miguel says a few moments later as he brings the plates to the table.

The food smells even better now it’s up close and directly under your nose.

“Do you enjoy cooking?” you ask him as he takes his seat opposite you.

“Yeah, when I have time for it. I don’t cook as much as I’d like to. But it’s enjoyable when I do.”

Taking your first mouthful is exquisite. The taste of the tender, juicy steak mixed with the spices and marinade danced across your tongue. You couldn’t help but moan, causing Miguel to double-take at you.

“Oh God. This is incredible!”

“That’s a first, I’ve never made someone moan with my cooking before,” he pauses as he considers something, “but I rarely entertain people so maybe that’s why.”

“Why’s that?”

“Just busy. Work life, single parent life, just hardly in the mood to entertain,” another pause, “it’s been great having you here today though. I’ve enjoyed it. It’d be nice to have you around again,” he says hopefully.

“Well, I feel honoured to be part of the lucky few you do entertain.”

Miguel snorts at your words.

“Lucky few? Lucky one.”

You should feel special about that. In normal circumstances you would. But you feel awful, that the one person he wants to invite over is the one person he really shouldn’t. Taking another mouthful, you try to hide your discomfort and guilt.

Indignation grows inside of you, bubbling away in your mind. You really like him. It seems like a cruel twist of fate that you’re enjoying getting to know the man you’re supposed to be spying on. The man who your boss has designs on eliminating. You absolutely despise the situation you’re in.

“I’m really touched, it’s so sweet that you’ve opened up your home to me, despite your regular commitments.”

Guilt is racking up in your mind exponentially. Parts of you are tempted to self sabotage, crumble in front of him and tell him the full reason why you agreed to visit him today. Maybe he won’t take it as badly as you expect? Or maybe he will? Would he offer you protection, if he wasn’t overwhelmed with the feeling of being betrayed? There is so much uncertainty, you decide to keep your mouth shut, despite the unbearable discomfort of the truth wanting to burst out of you.

The both of you continue to eat the delicious food together while maintaining a pleasant conversation. As time goes by, you start to feel contact as his leg finds yours under the table. It felt warm and inviting. You’re suddenly reminded of the intimate moments you shared on your date, triggering a blush to spread across your cheeks immediately. You both share a glance in silence. His tempting gaze tugs at your heart, enticing you to want him.

Just before you are totally ready to spring across the table and kiss him passionately, he moves to take the empty plates to the sink. He’s teasing you, you just know it.

“How about dessert?” he asks, chuckling slightly after seeing your growing indignation as he gets up from the table.

Maybe he wants you to give in and beg him to take you? But you’re stronger than that. You can play his game.

“Dessert sounds perfect.”

“I have strawberries. They’re nice and sweet.”

“I’d love some.”

He brings a bowl full of the juicy red fruit and sets it down on the table. But instead of taking the seat opposite, he now sits next to you, wearing a charming smile on his face. His radiating warmth, melting away your worries temporarily, replacing them with comfort.

The strawberries look sweet and succulent, probably grown in very fertile earth and in the perfect climate. You can only imagine how they’ll taste. You move to take one but his hand stops you. He shakes his head, that teasing stare returning.

“Let me, cariño,” he whispers.

You gulp as you squeeze your legs together. The anticipation is driving you wild.

Picking up a strawberry, he brings it to your lips.

“Careful, these can be very juicy. But they’re incredibly moreish.”

You take a bite, your teeth cutting into the flesh of the delicious fruit. Its sweetness delighting your tastebuds immediately. You manage to bite half of it, then watch in surprise as he eats the remainder.

“Oh my God, these are delicious.”

Miguel smiles at your reaction. He’s clearly enjoying setting the mood and upping the sexual tension.

“They are, aren’t they?"

He takes another; feeding you again, which you’re now very much willing to accept.

Each time he feeds you, he leans closer. It starts off subtle, but you suddenly notice when you feel his warm breath fan across your face.

The next strawberry is particularly juicy and full of flavour. You suddenly move to try and stop it from dripping from your lips but you squeal in surprise when he leans in, sealing his mouth on yours. His tongue makes sure that none of the sweet nectar from the fruit is wasted. A moan vibrates against your lips as he enjoys the taste of the fruit and your pretty mouth.

Putting the half eaten strawberry back down in the bowl, he scoops you up off your chair and carries you bridal style up the stairs to his bedroom.

***

A trail of clothes leads up to his bed. First are your shoes, then his. Next, your dress - he had to put you down for that. Then his shirt - which you assisted him in. Even closer to the bed are his trousers.

On the bed, your shaking legs are held wide open as he enjoys a different kind of nectar. Your nectar. Hanging from one ankle is your panties while he holds your legs in place, his tongue, teasing, licking and flicking your sensitive bud and your dripping pussy. Lapping hungrily at your nether region as if he hadn’t just eaten dinner. Fingers digging into the soft, smooth flesh of your thighs as he enjoys eating you out. He lays flat on the bed with his head firmly between your legs. His eager hips grind sensually against the duvet and mattress.

He loves hearing your needy moans and your helpless little whimpers. Feeling your body shake and writhe only encouraged him to do it with even more conviction.

“Cariño, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since our evening out together,” he mumbles seductively after coming up for air.

You moan due to the absence of his mouth around your clit. His words are sweet and you love them, but they drag up yet more guilt within you. You wish he would just simply continue doing what he’s doing.

“Do you feel the same hermosa?”

From between your quivering thighs, his gaze meets yours in an intense but enticing manner. How can you resist that face?

“Of course I can’t stop thinking about you- Oh God!”

At the end of your reply, he goes back in for another round of licking and teasing, cutting your words off. You arch your back off of the bed as he resumes with fervour. He begins to groan as you notice his body moving more, his hips still grinding into the mattress.

“I-” he licks you, “want-” he sucks on you, “you-” he flicks you with his tongue, “cariño…” his words die out at the end as he leans back in again. The motions of his tongue feel even stronger this time. You squeal in delight as you can’t resist throwing your hands down to his gorgeous, brown, slicked back hair.

To add to the delightful sensations between your legs, you feel two fingers run up and down your sensitive folds, getting soaked with your arousal. Eventually they plunge in, twisting and pumping gently as he slowly pulls his mouth away from your swelling bud. Before you can complain, his thumb replaces his lips, pressing firmly and running in a circular motion.

“Are you on any birth control (Y/N)?” he asks, his voice ragged and full of lust.

You nod between heavy pants and loud moans of pleasure.

He shifts himself further up your body, his hand remaining in place between your legs. You get a taste of yourself as he presses his lips against yours in a passionate and heated kiss. A muffled groan enters your mouth from his, as his arousal starts to take over.

Slowly he got on his knees after breaking the kiss with you. Before you is an unforgettable sight. You knew he had a nice shape about him and there’d be some muscle definition. But this body in front of you is a body made by the Gods. His hands travelled to the top of his boxer briefs, a large bulge underneath catches your attention. You had a feeling that he was big from when you ground against it the other night, but not that big. Your legs squeeze together, wondering how the hell he’s going to fit.

As he pulls down the material of his boxer briefs, you finally see exactly how big he is. You couldn’t stop yourself from gasping.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim as you sit up on the bed, definitely squeezing your legs together.

Miguel chuckles as he tosses his boxer briefs aside and rests his hands on your shoulders. You feel him gently push you back, laying you down against his soft bed sheets.

“Relax (Y/N). We’ll go slow, I promise. You’ll be surprised at just how much you’ll be able to fit.”

Leaning down over the top of you, he begins to kiss your lips and slowly travels over your jawbone, down your neck to your collarbone. His fingers burrow underneath you and unclasps your bra, freeing your beautiful breasts for him.

“Such a beauty,” he whispers after stopping peppering your neck with kisses.

“Muy bonita…”

You feel him kiss your neck again, tenderly, gently and sweetly. His heat radiates down upon you, giving you that delicious melting sensation along your spine. The sheer weight and size of this man presses down into the mattress. On one hand, his build makes you feel safe and protected, but on the other, you feel in certain danger. What he ends up knowing about you will decide whether you’ll be locked in his secure embrace, or locked in a cold, dank cell.

“Can I take you as I am, or should I find a condom?” he murmurs against your neck; his voice, deep, heavy and full of desire. You can’t bear the thought of his hot, comforting body leaving you again to go looking for a condom, and you’re on the pill so you give him permission to enter you as nature intended.

Miguel’s large frame shifts again over you as he positions himself at your entrance. Your heart pounds as you feel he’s about to perform a magic trick - making his entire length disappear.

“I’ll go slow…” he assures you as the large head of his cock kisses your entrance.

With a nod in response, you tell him it’s okay to proceed. Slowly, he pushes into you. Your whole body tenses and your breath hitches at the gradual invasion. As promised; he’s gentle, slow and tender. Pausing occasionally, allowing you to stretch around his long, thick throbbing shaft. Making it easier for you to accommodate him.

He pushes forward even further. Unable to resist, you close your eyes as you take even more. He’s right, you are surprised by just how much of him you’re taking.

Small, dainty fingers graze his sides, causing his body to jolt slightly at your tickling touch. You hear a deep throaty groan spilling from his lips, prizing your eyes open, you observe his brows furrowing with blissful pleasure, which in turn makes you lose your composure.

He’s inside you, his panting breath fans over your face while his strong arms cage you underneath him. Those handsome eyes turn you into mush as you return his gaze.

“You’re taking me so well, cariño,” he praises you, drawing his cock almost all the way back out again. Your jaw drops as you suddenly feel empty. That is soon remedied however as he starts once more, slowly pushing back in, but a fraction faster this time.

“Aah! Miguel!” you call out in pleasure as he fills you again, stretching your warm, needy pussy.

You find that you love his praise, especially when he whispers it to you so close to your ear. His warm breath spreads tingles like wildfire all over your body.

As you wrap around his eager length, your limbs cling onto him as if you’re holding on for dear life. He smirks down at you as he watches you adjust, however he feels both his and your body are now demanding for something a bit faster paced.

Gradually, his tempo speeds up while he adds grinding against your clit into the mix. The charming smirk spreads wider as he observes you melt further into the bed, crying out for more.

“You feel so good and you’re doing so, so well.”

His praise takes it all to the next level. You feel you can take him even faster and at a greater intensity.

“Fuck me M-Miguel!” you splutter with urgency in your voice.

“You want me to fuck you cariño?”

“Yes - please!”

“Tell me to stop at any time if it gets too much.”

You watch his jaw clench, his muscles tense and you hear a grunt; just as he gives an almighty thrust. Drawing almost all the way out, he slams back into you. Your body immediately responds. Every single nerve ending ignites. All muscles tense. Your lungs suddenly draw in a sharp intake of air.

“Miguel!” you moan loudly.

He’s pounding into you, pumping his dick hard and fast in and out. A sex fueled haze fogs your mind as you become drunk on the pleasure of his shaft penetrating you.

“That’s it cariño, call out my name…” he purrs with heavy lidded eyes.

You repeat as he maintains his punishing thrusts. Each time you cry out his name, he moans and tilts his head back. His name spilling from your lips is like music to his ears.

He feels so good inside of you that you never want him to leave. It’s like he’s filling a piece of you that you didn’t know was missing. Watching him on top of you, dominating you, fucking you made you wish this moment would last forever. At this moment, you’re not spying on him, you’re not betraying him, you’re not working for the opposition. The world around you is reduced to nothing, everything else other than you two is insignificant.

Miguel’s grunts signifying his intense effort fogs your mind further, his moans of pleasure builds that tightening in your core. You’re clenching around his cock, you’re close.

“Fuck, hermosa. Cum for me- Oh fuck!”

You both erupt with pleasure as you climax. His thrusts slow but they deepen inside you. Lowering his body, he presses himself against you, seeking that blissful contact with your skin. His hot and heavy breaths fan and caress against your face and neck as you cry out his name multiple times. Your bodies glisten with sweat after the intense lovemaking session.

The sound of sweet and tender kisses fill the air as the afterglow sets in. He remains inside, but you notice he’s gradually softening. An undeniable and sad ache fills your core knowing that he’ll be departing you soon and reality will return.

He draws himself out of you, sparking a sob you didn’t know you had in you to erupt and tears well in your eyes.

Immediately his brows furrowed with concern.

“Cariño? Que pasa?”

His hands cup under your chin as he monitors you.

And now the lying begins… The stress of doing what Kingpin is asking of you is rising higher inside you. But you can’t tell Miguel that.

“I’m sorry,” you sob again. “It felt too good. I didn’t want it to end.”

It isn’t exactly a lie. You really didn’t want it to end. It felt incredible and it was a perfect distraction from reality.

Laying next to you, he pulls you into his arms, positioning you half on top of him.

“You had me worried, cariño. Never have I ever made a girl cry during or just after sex. I’m just glad it’s good crying.”

His hand plays with your hair idly as has your head resting against his perfectly chiselled chest.

“Heh… yeah… good crying…” you reply.

The comforting sound of his heart beating in your ear starts to calm your nerves. You feel soothed as he strokes your hair.

“Well, I guess it’s encouraging in a way. It means you want more.”

A tired smile breaks across your face as your fingertips wander over his chest and abs.

“I definitely do want more.”

The mafia man kisses the top of your head delicately.

“Your wish is my command, just say the word.”

***

That evening, the dark of the night shrouds Fisk tower. Lights still illuminate a handful of windows at that late hour. One of the lit windows is Kingpin’s, right at the very top.

The large mafia boss paces his room as one of his staff gives him some news.

“We’ve tried getting hold of Russell several times in the last few days, there’s no response. We think he’s been taken by O’Hara.”

Fisk slams his hands down on the desk angrily. Frustration builds inside him. Yet another disappearance, but this time it’s one of his own men and not someone from Alchemax. He supposed it didn’t take O’Hara long to work out who was behind the abduction attempt. It’s clear that someone who works for the opposition’s leader is talented at tracking people down.

“Damnit!” he seethes.

“Any word on Mr. Garcia?”

“No news on his whereabouts sir, however, what confuses us about him is that his wife has also gone missing.”

A deep frustrated sigh vents from Fisk’s lips. Staring into the distance he tries to solve the puzzle himself. The names of the missing people from Alchemax circles in his mind. The name O’Hara also starts to ring a distinct bell. His eyebrows rise slightly as an idea strikes him.

“Fetch me a folder labelled 2099 from the archives,” Kingpin demands, his voice a deep growl.

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Part 5

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