Arranged Mafia Marriage

Michael

Heat, sweetness. The taste of her, like strawberries and sunshine, punches me in the gut. My head spins. I need her, want her. I pull her up until she crashes into my chest, her body twisted against mine. I slide my leg, between hers, apply pressure until her body curves further.

Bend for me, Beauty. Break for me. Open. I swipe my tongue across the seam of her lips and her mouth parts further. I swoop in, because…that’s my second nature. I take what I want. Use weakness to my advantage. Rush in to consolidate my position when I have the upper hand. I flatten my palm over the flatness of her belly, graze my fingers over the core of her. She moans low in her throat, the sound so soft I’d have missed it, except I’ve plastered her to me. Her every breath, her every inhale, the trembling that sweeps up her spine… It’s mine. I tilt my head, deepen the kiss even further. Thrust my tongue inside the honeyed spring of her mouth and drink from her. Suck on her tongue and a whine bleeds from her. I swallow it. Bring my fingers up to cup her breast and she arches her spine. Pushes her flesh into the hollow of my palm. I pinch her nipple and her entire body bucks. Against me. Into me. Her hair slaps against my chin, coils around my neck, binding me to her, tugging at me, connecting us… No. I tear my lips from her mouth and she tips up her chin, reaches up, seeking my touch, my essence, what only I can give her.

“Beauty?” I clear my throat.

She peers at me from between the fringe of her eyelashes, pupils blown from the pleasure I’d drawn from her. She blinks; her lips part, swollen from my ministrations.

“Wanna shag?” I allow my lips to curl in a smirk. Rake my gaze down her flushed cheeks, her heaving chest. “You’re a bit on the heavy side for me, but you’ll do for a quickie.”

Her cheeks redden; a spark lights in her eyes. There, you are.

“Fuck you.”

“If you insist.”

She pulls away from me, and I loosen my grip. Not that she’s going anywhere, considering we were trapped here in the confines of this car for a little while longer. Why the hell did I crawl in here with her? A temporary loss of sanity, that’s what it was. I’d heard her beat her fists against the car and…knew it would attract attention. Didn’t want that. Couldn’t bring her up front so… I’d done the logical thing. I’d climbed in.

“Get away from me, you obnoxious jerk.”

“I’m sure you’re aware that’s not possible, considering.” I jerk my chin towards the space around us.

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Yours.”

“What?”

“If you hadn’t quoted Byron, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah, I would be dead.” She glowers.

“Right on your first guess.” I nod. “Impressive you recognized that.”

“So, what’s your plan?”

“Plan?” I frown.

“You know, the hell are you thinking, transporting me to God knows where? Why didn’t you kill me like you should have?”

“I’m the one asking the questions, piccolina.”

“Your Italian insults suck, you know that?”

I blow out a breath. “You English think a word in any other language is an insult.”

“Wasn’t it.”

“Nope.”

“Then?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What about what you called me earlier?”

“What?”

“Beauty. You called me Beauty.”

“You are fucking annoying. I liked you better with my tongue in your mouth.” I lower my head and she arches away. She tugs at my grasp. I release her chin and she faces forward.

“Don’t kiss me again.”

“You liked it, hmm?”

“No.”ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.

“Wanna bet. I am more than happy to go another round.” I allow my lips to curve, “It’s as good a way as any to pass the time.”

I coil a strand of her hair around my fingers, bring it to my nose. Cinnamon and sugar, with a dash of hot spice. My mouth waters, and I release the silken length.

“So, what do you say?”

“Go to hell.”

“Been there, and I’m not in a hurry to repeat the experience.”

“Do you have a rejoinder for every insult?” She huffs.

“Do you always mouth off your captors?”

“I’ve never been kidnapped before.’

“I’ve never…” my voice trails off. I don’t lie, ever. And the fact is, she’s not the first I have abducted. She’s the first whose life I’ve spared, and hell… Why? Why would I do that? Just a few mumbled words and boom… I’m the bitch in this equation. Nope. No way. I need to take control of this situation. Of whatever it is that stretches between us. Need to snap this connection.

“Never been at a loss of words before, huh?” Triumph tinges her tone, and warmth curls in my chest.

My heart begins to thud, my pulse rate ratchets up, and even before the words are out of my mouth, I know I am going to regret it… But fuck that. I am Italian enough to not mess with forces beyond my comprehension. When I had set out this morning to take her life, I hadn’t realized that it would be mine I was forfeiting. Too little, too late. I am helpless, and I have to take the next step. Else we’ll both be left hanging between the devil and a dark place, and to hell with that. I’ll make the decision and be damned. Pay the consequences; no choices. This is it. It has to be this way. There is no other option.

“I’ve never had to choke a woman into complying before.”

“What the hell?” She yells, whips her head around.

I wrap an arm around her neck then grab the bicep of my other arm.

She struggles, kicks out, manages to free a leg and sinks her knee into my thigh. Pain laces my nerve endings, lengthens my cock even further. Don’t judge. My tastes have always been on the edge…and this… This has pushed them past a point of no return.

I manage to slide my other hand behind her head, apply pressure to the sides of her neck and she goes limp.

“Sleep, Beauty.”

Her breathing deepens.

“Good girl.” I cradle her close, whisper my knuckles over her cheek. “When you awake, it will be the start.”

Karma

Whispers, the scrape of something smooth against the back of my thighs. I rub my cheek against the silky-hard sensations. The masculine scent of testosterone, musky, like leather with a hint of woodsmoke. Fresh snow on fallen earth. The cold rush of a winter’s wind. The snap and crackle of a fireplace. Warmth creeps up my fingers, my toes. I turn toward it, snuggle in against the hard unrelenting surface. Thud-thud-thud-thud; the beats sink into my blood. My sex clenches in perfect rhythm. Him. He is near. He had crawled into the back of the car with me, had wound his big body around mine and he’d choked me until I’d fainted. I crack open my eyelids and the world swims in my line of sight.

“How dare you?” I cough. “You knocked me out, you obnoxious jackalope.”

“Sleep hasn’t improved your disposition, huh?” A lean arm appears in front of me, holding a glass of water. “Drink.”

I purse my lips, gulp, glare from the glass of water to his handsome, gorgeous, ugly-mean features.

“Do it or I’ll pour it down your throat myself.” His tone is soft but he doesn’t fool me. Bastard would do it, too. I reach for the glass. The water slides between my parched lips. I drain it. My swollen tongue thanks me, and the drumming behind my temples seems to recede. I lower the glass, take stock of my surroundings. I’m in a leather chair, and a seatbelt is strapped across my lap. I also have my running clothes on. I glance down and find my feet are still clad in my sneakers. The low hum of engines, hushed voices soaked up by thick carpeting, and the kind of luxury only the filthy rich or the filthy-period-can buy, reaches me.

“We’re on a plane?”