Arranged Mafia Marriage

Luca

The hell are you doing? She’s scared out of her mind, and instead of calming her down, I climb onto the bed, between her legs, and lean my weight on top of her. Not because I want to scare her, but because I can’t afford to be kneed by her or hit by her flailing arms. It’s the only reason I have my hand over her mouth and am trying to hold her down without hurting her.

“Stai calmo,” I growl.

Her gaze widens, and I realize she may not understand me.

“Stay quiet,” I snap.

She begins to writhe under me, trying to get away, but it only brings her in closer contact with the hardness between my thighs. She instantly freezes, her eyes growing even bigger. Color smears her cheeks. She begins to wriggle with even more ferocity. She bites down on my fingers, which I’ve clamped over her mouth, and goddamn, but I feel the pinch all the way to the tip of my cock. The blood rushes to my groin, and the column in my pants grows even thicker. Which, in turn, seems to inject a fresh dose of terror through her veins because now, she begins to fight me in earnest. She lashes out with her free hand and catches me in the face. I grunt.

The wound at the back of my head throbs. Pain slices through my head, and for a second, I see stars. She arches back and her thick curly hair spirals back from her face. Medusa. She’s Medusa, sent to tempt me, then turn me into stone. Mission accomplished, on both counts. My head spins. A weird sensation coils in my chest. A current of electricity charges through me and I rear back.

She takes advantage of my lapse, manages to work one of her legs free and kicks me in the thigh. It doesn’t really hurt me, but I’ve had enough.

“Stop fighting me, you little hellcat; they have cameras on us.”

She continues to thrash around, then grows still, as if my words have suddenly sunken in.

I nod, then jerk my chin toward the ceiling. She follows my gaze toward the light unit in the ceiling.

“It looks like a light fixture doesn’t it?”

She nods.This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Look closely,” I prompt.

She squints at it for a second, another… then understanding flits across her features. She whips her gaze back to my face, a question in her eyes.

“Yeah, that’s a hidden camera.” I nod.

Her entire body stiffens then goes slack. I remove my hand from her mouth.

She swallows, “You mean, for all these days, they were…” Her voice trails off as realization sinks in. She pales. “They were-”

“Watching you. And now they’re watching us. I wager they have microphones on us, as well.”

Her throat moves as she swallows. The tension that pours off of her body seems to intensify. Her shoulders hunch, and every muscle in her body seems to coil with nervousness. Her chest rises and falls. Her shirt is snug and stretched across her tits. Nice juicy round tits that would fit nicely into the palms of my hands.

Heat sluices through my veins. Goddamn, her nipples are so hard their outline is visible through the fabric. The band around my chest tightens. I only realize I’ve leaned in closer to her when a jolt runs through her body. I raise my gaze to her face to find her pupils are almost fully dilated. The black has expanded until only a circle of gold, her irises, is visible around them.

“I’ll remove my hand from your mouth, if you promise you won’t scream,” I caution.

She stills for a second, then nods.

Goddam, I don’t trust her. Bet she’s going to scream as soon as I take my hand off her mouth. And how long am I going to stay in this position, trying to keep her quiet, while the proximity to her body, the sweet scent of her, the softness of her skin, the warmth of her core-all of it ensures that my pants are getting tighter by the moment?

Cazzo! I remove my hand from her face, and instantly, she screams. So I do the only thing I can in these circumstances; I close my mouth over hers. Her entire body freezes. I absorb the sound, draw it into me as I thrust my tongue in between her lips, and kiss her soundly.

She stays still for a beat, then another. Then, she bites down on my lower lip, and cazzo, my cock jerks in my pants. I tilt my head, deepen the kiss, and she pushes her breasts up into my chest. She juts out her chin, relaxes her jaw, and I slide my tongue in deeper. The taste of her is sweet and complex, with a bite, the scent of her like crushed rose petals, the feel of her curves so soft, so lush, so goddamn sumptuous. My head spins. She writhes under me, and the hard column in my pants nestles into her core. My balls tighten. A hot sensation fills my chest, and my ribcage hurts. I squeeze her chin to hold her face where I want it as I swipe my tongue across her teeth, as I drink from her, and suck on her tongue, and my entire body goes on alert.

The hair on the back of my neck rises, and the muscles of my shoulders coil. I tear my mouth from hers and stare into her flushed face. Into those tawny eyes with pupils so blown, I swear I can see myself reflected in the blackness.

She stares back, the surprise I feel reflected in her features. Then, she raises her hand-and to be honest, I see what’s coming, but I do nothing to avoid it-and her palm connects with my cheek. My head jolts back, and yet, I can’t take my gaze off of her. Something electric crackles in the air between us, coils itself around my chest, and squeezes until I can’t breathe. Can’t think. Can’t do anything but gape at her.

“Get off of me,” she snarls.

“Only if you promise to listen,” I shoot back.

“First, you get off me.”

“First, you promise to listen.”

“I’ll do no such thing.”

“In which case…” I place more of my weight on her and her gaze widens.

“You wouldn’t.” She scowls.

“Try me.” I allow my lips to curve in a smirk. Using my weight to hold her captive while I try to make her… Listen to me? It’s a dick move, but fuck that. We’re in trouble, and the only way out is if I get her to follow my directions.

Her face pales a little, then her lips firm. “Fine,” she says in a low voice.

“I didn’t hear you,” I drawl.

“A-hole,” she murmurs under her breath.

“Heard that, and it’s alphahole to you.”

She opens and shuts her mouth. “You have an inflated opinion about yourself, don’t you?”

“Not the only thing that’s inflated, Angel.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll call you anything I want.” I allow my grin to widen.

Her scowl deepens. “You… you… Dickwaffle!”

I blink, then can’t stop the chuckle that rolls up my throat. I laugh so hard, my whole body shakes, and as a result, she shakes under me. “That’s a creative insult, I’ll give you that.”

“I’m just getting started,” she shoots back.

“You and I are going to have fun; I can feel it,” I tease her.

“Get off of me.” She slaps my shoulder, and the vibrations shudder through my brain. The back of my head begins to throb in earnest. I touch the space and my fingers come away wet.

“Is that blood?” She stares at it, then at my face. “Does it hurt?”

“Are you concerned?” I narrow my gaze on her.

“Of course not. But since we are, clearly, having a conversation, can you please get off me now?”

“We are, aren’t we?” I roll off of her, and once on my feet, extend my arm to her. “Luca Sovrano.”

She sits up, then pushes off the bed and stands facing me.

“What the hell did you think you were doing earlier?” She scowls.

“Trying to distract you so you wouldn’t scream and make those guys come in here again.”

She pales a little, and her gaze flicks to the door. “Did they take you, as well? I mean, obviously, they did take you… But how did they overpower you? You seem-”

“Strong? Virile? Sexy?”

She darts me an annoyed look. “Does everything always have to be about you?”

“Not always… but mostly.” I wiggle my fingers. “At least shake my hand, will you?”

“If you think I want to be your friend after what you did earlier, you are sadly mistaken.”

“Considering we’ve already exchanged saliva, a handshake doesn’t seem that far-fetched.”

She throws up her hands. “You’re gross.”

“And you’re cute when you are angry.”

“Eh?” She opens and shuts her mouth. “Who are you again?”

“Luca Sovrano, part of the Sovrano Seven.”

“What are you, some kind of underground Mafia gang?”

“How’d you guess?”

“You’re joking, right?” She begins to laugh, but she must notice the look on my face, for her lips firm. “You’re not joking.”

“Not at all,” I confirm.

“Oh for F’s sake.” She takes a step back, as if she’s just realized the predicament she’s in. Too late, baby. I’ve already set my sights on you, and I’m not letting go that easily.

“So, you’re part of a Mafia outfit?”

“I am the Mafia.” I widen my stance. “And you’re trapped with me in this cell.”