Dangerous Game with My Sweet Mobster
Description
She's FBI. He's mafia. And one lie just ruined everything. Zadie Hollis was supposed to take him down, not fall into his bed. Posing as Marina Velastro, she slips into Lazaro Saventino's world as his executive assistant, determined to expose the empire he built. But the deeper she goes, the harder it gets to tell where the mission ends... when she finds out he is the guy she spent the night with. When Lazaro discovers who she really is, he should've ended it all. Instead, he pulls her in closer. And now?
Chapter 1
Jun 22, 2025
Zadie’s POV
From a simple drink and celebration… how did I end up having a one night stand with a stranger?
The TV above the bar was old and muted, but I didn’t need sound to know what they were reporting: Biggest Narcotics Bust of the Year. Victor Ruiz, cuffed and bleeding, was shoved into the back of a SWAT van like trash. I swirled the whiskey in my glass and let it burn down my throat.
My phone buzzed. “Zadie. Damn, good work.” Captain Chris’s voice was gruff.
“Thanks, sir,” I said, not looking away from the screen.
“You should rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
I hung up without replying and tossed the phone next to my glass. Rest? What the hell was that? This wasn't a celebration. It was just noise turned down for one night.
The stool beside me screeched. “Jesus, Z,” Marlowe said as he slid in next to me. My gay best friend is also a cop. “Celebrating alone? That’s tragic.”
I smirked, reaching up to undo my ponytail. My black hair tumbled past my shoulders. “I was fine until you showed up.”
“Rude.” He waved the bartender over. “You just put a cartel boss behind bars and made the feds look like toddlers. You should at least pretend to enjoy it.”
“I care. Just… not enough to fake a smile.”
“To the beautiful, terrifying Zadie,” he said, raising his glass. “Still solving cases. Still single. I don’t know if I want to be you or be with you.”
“You’d break a nail trying to be me.”
He grinned. “How do you do it? How do you get them exposed?”
I took a sip, met his eyes. “You tell me.”
Marlowe let out a laugh and nudged me. “I just wish you'd use that beauty to get a new man, you know. You ever think about getting laid by someone who’s not in handcuffs?”
“I don’t need a guy,” I said. Yeah go lie, single and a virgin 27 years old cop.
He tilted his head. “Men are pigs. But you gotta stop letting that cheating ex live rent-free in your head.” My jaw tensed. I downed the rest of my drink.
He sighed. “You deserve more than ghosts and cold whiskey, Z.”
Then his phone buzzed. He checked it and groaned. “That’s Jude. Burned dinner again. If I don’t get home, he’ll set the apartment on fire trying to make frozen lasagna.”
I rolled my eyes. “Go rescue your husband before he burns your condo down.”
Marlowe leaned over, kissed my head. “Congrats, Z. But seriously. Be careful.”
And then I was alone again. Me, my glass, and the leftover adrenaline that wouldn’t shut up. A minute passed. Then someone sat down.
He didn’t ask. Didn’t smile. Just took the stool next to me like it already had his name on it. Jet-black hair. Tan skin. Clean jawline. Broad shoulders filling out a black shirt that clung in all the right places. And those steel-gray eyes? Those eyes weren’t just looking at me. They were reading me.
“I want space,” I muttered.
“Same,” he said, voice low. “Couldn’t find it over there.”
I finally turned toward him. “And that’s your excuse for invading mine?”
“Yeah. You look like you’ve had a shit day. Maybe you need a drinking buddy.” I could’ve told him to leave. But there was something in the way he said it, easy, unbothered, like he wasn’t here to impress me.
“Then buy me a drink.”
He smirked. “Thought you’d never ask.” Whiskey hit the bar. We clinked glasses. We kept drinking. The warmth crept into my chest. The bar faded away.
“So,” he said, elbow on the counter, watching me. “Can I know your name?”
“Nah.”
He raised a brow. “Secretive.”
“People are dangerous these days,” I said, looking straight at the bartender. I looked at him from under my lashes. “How dangerous are you with a drunk woman like me?”
“I don’t take advantage.” But our knees touched. His arm brushed mine. My breath caught.
“But if I gave permission,” I said, my voice low, “would you be dangerous then?”
He leaned in slightly. “You want me to be?”
I laughed under my breath. “Yeah. I think I do.”
We barely made it inside a hotel. I am so drunk I don’t even know where my phone is.
I shoved him against the seat, climbed into his lap, lips crashing against his. He tasted like whiskey and mint, smooth and dangerous. His hands slid up my thighs, under my dress, and I rocked my hips against his hard-on, already pulsing through his pants.
“You want this?” he asked, his voice low and rough against my mouth.
I bit his lip. “Shut the fuck up and let me taste you.”
He growled, unbuckling his belt. His cock sprang free, thick, hard, and begging for attention. I dropped to the floor of the backseat, licking my lips, eyes locked on his.
“Goddamn,” he groaned as I wrapped my lips around him, slow and tight.
I took him deep. Deeper than I should’ve, choking slightly, spit pooling at the corners of my mouth. He fisted my hair, eyes rolling back as I worked my throat.
“Fucking hell, you’re driving me insane.” I moaned around him, pulling back just enough to suck hard at the tip, teasing him.
He bucked forward. “Oh fuck, yeah. Just like that.” When I finally let him go, he grabbed me by the waist, yanked me up, and pushed me onto his lap.
“Now sit on it,” he growled.
I slid down onto him with a sharp gasp. “Fuck. Yes,” I moaned. “Put it in… deeper… god… right there.”
He slammed into me, hand gripping my ass, bouncing me on his cock like he owned my body. “Moan my name,” he panted, sweat dripping down his neck.
“I don’t even know your fucking name!”
“Then fucking call me sir while I pound that cunt.”
I gasped, orgasm building so fast I couldn’t breathe. “Yes… sir… fuck. Don’t stop… please… sir!”
He flipped me over in one brutal move, pressed me over the seat, and yanked my hair. “You want it rough?” he growled in my ear. I nodded, barely able to speak.
“Then take it.” He slammed into me from behind, raw and deep. My fingers clawed the seat as he held my hips and fucked me harder than I thought possible.
I screamed into the leather, my orgasm tearing through me like a damn earthquake. “FUCK- RIGHT THERE!”
He groaned, low and primal, and came inside me with a sharp thrust, pulling my head back as I moaned his name, whatever the hell it was.
I will surely regret this 100% tomorrow, with a sore aching cunt.
Dangerous Game with My Sweet Mobster
30 Chapters
30
Contents
Save
Passion Exclusive
My Passion
Copyright © 2026 Passion
XOLY LIMITED, 400 S. 4th Street, Suite 500, Las Vegas, NV 89101