“My wife.” As he whispered those words into my ear, his warm breath seared my sensitive skin. He pumped into me with slow, powerful thrusts. My nails dug into his muscles, the grip tight and every sensation within me burning with need. His voice was cocky and possessive.
“Say you are mine,” he demanded.
Just like the night we met, his gaze sent a blaze through my body and heat brushed through every inch of my skin. His gaze on me was like a hot and cold brush over my skin.
“Yours,” I vowed.
The moment our eyes met in his club three months ago, the air rushed out of my lungs and my life has been spinning in all the right directions. My body jolted with a strange electric sensation when his hazel green gaze watched me, the cockiness and arrogance written all over his face. But I still couldn’t resist the pull. I have been his from the moment we locked eyes across the room in that nightclub.
Right now, I ached for him, needing more of him. His everything. I had never thought I could belong to someone so completely. But I was his, every piece of my heart, soul, and body. I was all his.
His groans vibrated against my ear and through every little piece of me. From the tip of my toes to the strands of my hair.
“Please, Luciano,” I begged breathlessly.
He knew what that meant. He read me like an open book. He sped up his rhythm, his sculpted, inked body thrusting hard, in and out, filling me up again and again. Each time, touching places deep inside of me. My nails raked his shoulders, my cries for him getting louder with each thrust. He rutted me hard and relentlessly, deeper and rougher. Exactly the way I needed him.
My hips rolled beneath him, meeting his every thrust. He made my body burn, the flames of desire licking each inch of my skin. I didn’t care about anyone or anything. Just him. He’d ruined me for anyone else. My heart was his. I was a fool to think I’d ever escape untouched by him, in one way or another. He had taken my heart and my body, like a thief in the night.
“Fuck. I can’t get enough of you,” he grunted, thrusting hard, pounding me like the ruthless beast he was. And I loved every second of it. Relished the feeling of him losing control inside me. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me in the manner that would enhance both of our pleasures the best. He knew my body better than I did.
An intense orgasm burst through me, a scream leaving my lips, and my entire body went taut. My nails dug into his back as my pussy spasmed around his shaft. He thrust again; once, twice, before he followed me right over the cliff.
A trailer blocked my view of the East River. Frowning, I hoped the driver would speed up and pass us by so I could get a glimpse of the view. This was my favorite part of going into the city, going over the Brooklyn Bridge and the views stretching across the river. I kept watching and waiting, but the tractor trailer maintained its speed, parallel with our driver, and I missed it. It was snowing lightly and temperatures were cold, so cold that I heard on the news that the river froze. But because of this driver, I missed it.
On my way back, I hoped silently. I’d catch it on our way back if it wasn’t too dark.
I glanced over at Luciano to find him watching me. My husband. It still seemed surreal to find myself married. And to this man.
Images of what we had done before we showered to get ready for our date played in my mind, making my cheeks hot. I was sure the blush was permanently stained there with things we’ve done since we got married. He always managed to make me blush. Like a permanent side effect every time he looked at me, touched me, or spoke to me.
Has it only been three months? It felt longer. I never expected to fall for him but here we were. I have fallen in love with my husband. It had been a rough start, an unexpected start, but somehow it had all worked out.
“You are staring at me,” I scolded him on a soft chuckle.
“You love it when I watch you.”
I bit on my lower lip, to hide my smile. He was right. Regularly, I hated being the center of attention, but when he watched me, it was different. I felt like the most beautiful woman in the world, and everyone faded out as he stared at me with eyes the color of cool moss in early fall, right after the rain. I loved his eyes. There could be a harshness, a ruthlessness, in them but also such incredible passion. Hopefully, I’d see love glimmer in his hazel gaze one day as well because I knew without a doubt I was falling for my husband, despite our rocky start.
It was his eyes that captured me from the very first moment. The moment our gazes locked across the club, the night of my graduation, he had turned my world upside down. In a good way, despite the fact I didn’t think so at first. The way those hazel eyes watched me, hungrily, made my insides shudder in delight. God, I hoped one day our kids would have his eyes.
My husband was handsome, his face fit for GQ magazine, not a mobster world. Except when he was furious, ready to make his enemies suffer. Then his mobster side came right out. My family was on his revenge list, not that I could blame him. Although I didn’t know what exactly they had done to him, I knew firsthand how cruel, heartless, and evil my grandmother and uncle could be. My uncle, Alphonso Romano, ruined numerous lives, costing many men their precious daughters and their wives.
He almost ruined my life until I found haven in the unlikeliest of people… this ruthless mobster, covered in ink.
Luciano pulled me closer to him and all thoughts of my family evaporated. Bending his head, he showered kisses against my neck, whispering the naughty things we would do the moment we got back home. Shivers of delight ran through my spine and desire pooled between my thighs. My body burned with an inferno only he knew how to set off. He knew it would be on my mind throughout dinner. We hadn’t even gotten to the restaurant, and I was ready to go back home.
We were on our way to Maurizio’s. It has become our default restaurant date. There was nervous energy pumping through my veins. Everything between us had happened so fast, and truthfully, our whole marriage started as leverage against my family. I had been his willing victim, seeing a way out for me and my best friend. Yes, he forced me down the aisle, but I wasn’t blind to the benefits in taking that walk. Protection from my uncle and grandmother.
And somehow, we ended up here. We never talked about the future or our plans. Hopefully, he would be happy about our future together as much as I was.
Luciano swept me up from his night club and straight down the altar. It sounded so much better than labeling it as a kidnapping. Three months ago, I would have preached caution to any girlfriend that acted like this. I would have called it Stockholm Syndrome and the start of a very unhealthy relationship. But now, I could understand falling head over heels for someone. Besides, unintentionally and unbeknownst to him, he saved me. If he hadn’t taken me when he did, the fate my uncle had prepared for me was horrid. And now, I could help my best friend Gabriella too. Things were finally looking up.
The driver pulled up in the back of the restaurant, which was reserved only for the restaurant owner and Luciano’s team. After the car was parked, Luciano stepped out and held his inked hand to help me out. I took it with a smile.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes mesmerizing me.
“You don’t look too shabby yourself.” Truth was, he looked so handsome. Women always gawked after him, and today, I was sure it would be no different. But it wasn’t his good looks that captivated me. It was his over-the-top possessive and protective personality. Since my parents died, I had not had that. My best friend and I pretty much had to look out for each other. Nobody else cared what happened to us, and if my uncle’s plan had succeeded, both she and I would have been sold.
The back door of the restaurant flew open, and Maurizio’s son Mauro stormed out frantically. His disheveled hair was the first thing I noticed. Roberto’s and Massimo’s furious expressions were the next. They were right behind him.
“We were hit.”
The words slashed the cold January air, but it didn’t compare to the way my blood froze as I watched Luciano spin around and push me up against the car. Before I could even process what happened, Roberto and Massimo had their guns aimed at my head.
“You betrayed me,” Luciano spat at me, the affection dissipating from his hazel eyes, and now all I saw in them was hate.
“W-what?” My heart thundered, every fiber in my body was drenched in fear. His burning gaze turned into one of frigid fury, matching the cold, grey day around us and flurries coming down.
Cold fear gripped me. How did he go from his hot, hungry gaze to this cold rage? I struggled to process it all. Luciano’s hard, towering body locked me against the car, the freezing metal of the barrel of his own gun pressed hard against my temple.
“You betrayed me!” he shouted.
“I-I didn’t.” My voice shook, my words fumbling in a stutter.
“You are the only one who knew besides my men. I fucking trusted you.”
My vision blurred, my breathing heavy. I stared at him, praying he’d see the truth in my eyes.
“Please, Luciano!” I whispered as a snowflake landed on my eyelash. It felt heavy, my face frozen from the cold and terror. “I didn’t betray you.” I breathed in, my lungs hurting from the frigid cold air.
“I’ve had shipments coming here for weeks. We were never hit. The week I tell you, we are hit.”
“Luciano, please listen,” I begged in a small voice. “I didn’t betray you. I love you!”
He laughed, his face twisted in disgust at my words. At me. At my declaration of love. It was the first time I spoke those words to my husband.
The barrel of his gun pressed harder against my temple and my whole body shook. From fear. From the cold. And the look of disgust in his eyes.
“Let’s play a little game,” he growled, a menacing smile on his face. Slowly he pulled the gun from my temple while Roberto and Massimo held their aim on me. He opened the cylinder of the revolver, eyeing it, counting the number of bullets before spinning the cylinder and flicking it closed. “Russian roulette. Shall we?” He pressed the barrel of the revolver back to my temple.
The whole scene played out like it was happening to someone else; like it was a bad movie.
“Should I kill you now?” he bellowed, rage clear on his face. “I should have expected something like that from someone of your caliber. After all, the Romano family excels at backstabbing.”
I stared at him in confusion and hurt. How could he think that of me? Less than an hour ago, he was inside me and made love to me.
“Luciano-” Massimo cut in.
“Shut the fuck up!” he roared at him. His gaze never wavered from me and those words almost felt aimed at me. “Any last words, wife?”
I watched those eyes that I loved so much, my heart shredding into tiny pieces. It felt like shards of glass tearing at my skin, except the pain tore through me, inside me, leaving invisible scars in its wake. A tear rolled down my face, its trail turning to frost almost immediately. Just as I felt my heart freeze with each of Luciano’s harsh words. I was too scared to move, to wipe it clean.
Despite my shattering heart, and suddenly bleak future, I felt anger rise within me. It was better that way, it kept my walls up that I should have never lowered for him. I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself; he wasn’t worth my love. He wasn’t worthy of me. But the words got stuck in my throat.
Then he pulled a trigger.
Click.
