Emperor of Rage: A Dark Mafia Enemies To Lovers Romance

I stand just outside the guest house, my heart pounding in my chest, scowling to myself.

Why should I be the one to go to him?

And yet here I am.

Maybe it’s a masochistic streak in me. Or a pathological pathetic-ness. Maybe I’ve just had one too many glasses of wine and this is an all-around terrible idea I should sleep on.

Maybe the real problem is that Mal keeps thinking I want more from him.

The building is quiet, dimly lit, and such a contrast to the mansion behind me. It is secluded, separated from the main house by a series of little walkways through old trees, bamboo groves, and gardens filled with little shrines. But it feels secluded, too, almost like it exists in a separate world.

I should turn around. Walk away. Go back to the safety of the mansion and pretend this pull toward him doesn’t exist. But I know I won’t.

My hand trembles as I grip the handle and push open the door without knocking.

“What are you doing in here, Freya?”

I gasp, electricity jolting through my body as his voice rumbles from the darkness. I shiver, allowing my eyes to adjust to the low light.

Mal is standing with his back to me, his broad shoulders tense, his body still. He’s by a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that look out through the trees at all of Kyoto below. The lights are off inside, but with the moonlight coming in, I can see that the guesthouse is a big, open, double-height great room with a balcony around the perimeter of the second floor, almost like a traditional karate dojo.

When I don’t immediately answer, Mal turns to me, his silhouette dark against the lights of the city and the moonlight behind him. The trees outside the window wave slightly in the breeze, and as the moonlight shifts, I realize he’s shirtless, the white gleam from outside illuminating his grooved muscles and heavy tattoo ink.

My bottom lip retreats between my teeth as I feel the sharp icy-blue glint of his eyes pierce the divide between us and right into my soul. Then I shrug. “You weren’t out there.”

His eyes lock with mine, and just like every time before, my breath catches. There’s so much unsaid between us, so much tension crackling in the air. I don’t know how long we stand there, staring at each other, but I can hear my pulse thundering in my ears.

“I’m not going to tell them,” he finally growls, his voice quieter.

“Tell who what?” I frown, stepping closer.

He clenches his jaw as his eyes flick away from mine. “You know what I mean.”

I stiffen. He’s talking about Kir and my family—the people I love most. The people I’ve been terrified would find out the truth about where I came from, and my father, and everything else I’ve tried to bury.

Mal looks at me, his eyes dark and unreadable. “I know what it’s like to finally find something close to family.” He swallows hard. “I’m not going to destroy that for you.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and my heart clenches. I wasn’t expecting this sudden admission and rare glimpse into the man he is underneath the layers of darkness and control. He’s spent so long keeping me at arm’s length, and now, just for a split-second, I see it. His vulnerability.

I don’t know what to say. My mind is reeling with a mixture of emotions, but all I can do is stare at him, the tension between us palpable.

“So where does that leave us?” I finally ask, my voice quiet but firm.

Mal’s eyes harden. “There is no us,” he growls. “Our arrangement is terminated. You’re free to go.”

The words hit me like a slap. But I stay rooted to the spot, my gaze locked on his. “I’m still here,” I whisper.

He steps toward me slowly. “I’m giving you a fucking out, Freya,” he snarls. “You think you want the monster in me? Trust me, you don’t,” he rasps. “You haven’t seen the worst of me.”

My pulse quickens, but I hold my ground. “I’m still here.”

“Yes, because you’re not fucking listening!” he barks, darkness flashing in his eyes, his body coiling like a snake ready to strike, his bare arms and shoulders clenching and rippling. He looks like he’s battling some inner demon, like he’s fighting with himself, Jekyll and Hyde.

“I don’t have the boyfriend gene,” he spits. “I’m not capable of giving you what you want. I’m not that man.”

I take a deep breath, but I don’t falter. “I never once said I wanted that.”

A dark smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, but it’s not kind. It’s laced with bitterness and self-loathing. “Then what do you want, Freya?”

The room feels impossibly small, the air thick with tension. My throat tightens, but I force the words out. “Maybe I don’t need the emotions and the relationship.”

His lips curl into a smirk that is utterly devoid of warmth. “So just sex?” His voice is mocking, but underneath that, I can sense the anger, the desire, the fear. “Just me fucking you like a greedy little cumslut? That’s what you want?”

Fuck.

Yes.

Yes?

“Maybe,” I whisper, the word hanging between us like a challenge.

Mal’s head shakes side to side. “If you stay here one more second, I’m not going to hold back,” he growls, his voice rough and raw. “And believe me, I have been.”

“No one asked you to do that,” I whisper quietly. My feet start to move on their own, carrying me toward him.

Mal barks mirthlessly. “What the fuck do you want, Freya?”

My heart pounds in my chest. I know I’m standing on the brink of something dangerous, in front of a gaping maw that could devour me whole, but I can’t walk away. I don’t want to.

I don’t know how to.

“You,” I whisper as I come to a stop a foot away from him. “I want you.”

Mal’s body stiffens, his eyes turning downright venomous and black. Without warning, he grabs me. A gasp tears from my throat as he roughly spins me around and slams me against the windows behind me. His fists press to the glass on either side of my head as he looms over me. The searing intensity of his gaze is overwhelming, his breath hot against my skin.

His lips hover just over mine, the inches between us crackling with electricity. “How do you want me, Freya?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. “Tell me how.”

I want to fall into the suffocating heat between us, to let the thick, tension consume me. I want to lose myself in him.

“However you want,” I murmur, my voice shaky but resolute. “However you need.”

In an instant, Mal’s hands wrap tight around my throat. His body presses to mine, every muscle taut with tension, his breath ragged as he hovers above me. His lips ghost over mine, teasing, taunting.

“It’s going to hurt,” he growls, his voice full of dark promise.

My breath catches, and my body trembles with both fear and desire.

I press my hands against his chest, gently pushing him back. Mal grabs my wrists and slams them above my head. The force of his grip sends a shockwave through me, my pulse racing as he pins me firmly against the wall.

“Are you going to force me?” I whisper, my voice trembling, though there’s a flicker of darkness inside me too—a part of me that longs for him to take control, to erase all thought, to make me forget everything but him.

His lips twist into a smirk as he leans closer. “Is that the game we’re playing?” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous.

My heart hammers in my chest, my mind at war with my body.

Say no. Walk away.

You need more than this.

But if it’s a choice between nothing and something, I already know what I’m going to pick. Because I’m already in too deep.

Too addicted to his darkness.

“Yes.”

Heat pulses in my core as his fingers tighten around my neck, just enough to remind me who’s in control. My back is pressed against the cool glass of the window, the chill biting into my skin even through my clothes, but the heat radiating off Mal burns through everything else.

His thumb strokes the side of my throat. It’s a deceptively gentle gesture. There’s nothing remotely gentle about Mal tonight. I know he’s about to release whatever safety catch he’s been holding and finally show me the full depths of his darkness.

“You really want this, Freya?” His voice is low, rough, his breath hot. “Do you honestly know what you’re asking for?”

I try to swallow, but his grip tightens, and my pulse quickens under his hand. My mind is a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, but my body—God help me—knows exactly what it wants. I don’t care about the consequences right now. I’m addicted to him, to the way he makes me feel like I’m teetering on the edge of danger.

“I’m still here,” I whisper, my voice shaky but resolute.

A low growl escapes his throat, and his hand tightens around my neck, pulling me closer to him until there’s barely any space between our bodies.

“Remember your fucking safe word,” he rasps viciously, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear.

Neon.

His words sink in, the promise in them both thrilling and terrifying. I don’t back down. I’m too far gone, too wrapped up his dark allure to turn away now.

I’ve always known that he held something dangerous inside him that could break me. Yet here I am—wanting more.

Needing more.

His other hand slides down my side, his fingers digging into my hip with bruising force as he presses me harder against the glass. The coolness of the window contrasted against the heat between us reminds me just how trapped I am—caught between the safety of pulling away and the danger of falling deeper into him.

I tilt my head back, exposing my throat to him, silently inviting whatever comes next. His breath hitches, and for a moment, I think I see vulnerable uncertainty flicker in his eyes. But it’s gone in an instant, replaced by that same relentless, intense need to dominate and to control.

He leans in, his lips brushing over my jawline, teasing, taunting. I can feel the raw hunger radiating off him, the darkness that he’s been keeping at bay finally being allowed to break free. His teeth graze my skin and I shiver, my heart racing as he takes what he wants, unrestrained.

I know I should want more from him. I should want the vulnerability, the connection. But right now all I want is to drown in him, to let him take whatever he needs from me because, in some twisted way, it feels like the only thing that’s real.

His hand slides lower, his grip on me tightening as he growls against my skin. “You’re mine, Freya. Don’t forget that.”

The words are rough, savage, and they send a shiver down my spine.

So does what happens next.

He hooks his fingers into the neck of my t-shirt. His muscles bulge as his arm suddenly jerks down, ripping the fabric from my body with a force that stuns me. I blink, choking in surprise.

But Mal is just getting started.

He yanks the shirt the rest of the way off, tossing it aside before his hand brutally returns to my chest. I wince, whining in pain and pleasure together as he roughly cups my breasts, pinching and twisting the nipples through my black lacy bra.

He yanks the bra down, spilling my breasts free before his fingers mercilessly find a nipple again. I cry out as he grabs hold of the barbell through it, twisting until my breath catches and my back snaps rigid as hot electricity zaps through my core.

Suddenly his grip on my throat is guiding me, pushing me down. I drop to my knees on the floor as Mal reaches for his belt. He unbuckles and removes it, his eyes never leaving mine and his hand never leaving my throat.

When he loops the belt around my neck, my eyes bulge.

“Mal—”

“You can say that safe word at any time and pray to whatever god you want that I’ll fucking listen. Until then, you’re my whore. Is that understood?”

The pure, unadulterated, unhinged lunacy and sheer power in his tone sucks the air from my lungs.

It also turns my core to molten lava, my thighs clenching tightly as heat floods between them. Then I gasp sharply as the belt tightens around my neck. His hand drops away, and takes the length of the belt in his fist, tugging hard enough to let me feel it cinch tight around my windpipe.

Holy fucking shit.

I’ve always known Mal had a dark creature inside him. A monster.

A psychopath.

But for the first time I’m seeing it face to face, without a mask.

I’m seeing all of him, and it scares the living shit out of me.

It also has my thighs quivering and my nipples tightening to aching points. It has my core flooding my panties with a sticky hot heat and my heart pounding in my ears.

Maybe he really is a psychopath and a monster. But if that’s the case, it just means I’m as deranged as he is. Because I fucking need this. I want the edge. I want to look into the bottom of the abyss and scream in defiance at it.

“Take out my cock.”

My hands shake as I reach for him. My fingers brush his warm skin, my eyes sweeping up the grooves of his abs and v-lines as I pop the button of his pants. The zipper follows. My fingers curl into the elastic of his briefs, tugging them and his pants down together.

Fuck. Me. Sideways.

Every time I see this man’s cock, my jaw drops. My pulse skips and my mouth literally waters, and same as always, there’s a throbbing ache in my core as my thighs clench.

He’s fucking huge.

“Hands between your legs, inside your pants. I want you to rub your dripping little cunt while I fuck your mouth like a good little slut.”

Sweet fucking god.

My eyes drag from his swollen, heavy cock and up to his fierce gaze.

“Touch your fucking pussy,” he growls quietly, tugging on the belt around my neck as if to make his point. I whimper, nodding eagerly as my hands delve into my pants and into the black lace of my panties.

I’m fucking soaked.

My fingers slip messily through my folds, rubbing the throbbing nub of my clit as I squirm on my knees in front of him.

“Open your pretty mouth.”

The second I do, the belt tightens, yanking me toward him as Mal pushes his hips forward.

Fuck…

His fat cock pushes past my lips, stretching my jaw wide as his swollen head roughly rams over my tongue and into the back of my throat. I feel myself rebel, gagging a little as Mal invades my mouth. Then he’s pulling back out, allowing me some air as I gasp and whimper, looking up into his steely blue eyes.

“Good girl.”

He fucks his cock back into my mouth, pushing deep into the back of my throat. I choke again, sputtering and coughing phlegm all over his cock. When he draws it out again, it’s glistening and wet, a thick line of spit dripping from the head onto my bottom lip.

Mal smiles darkly.

“Such a pretty little slut, on your knees like a good girl.”

I don’t know why I’m like this. I don’t know why this turns me into a fucking puddle and makes me yearn to dive even farther, deeper, darker.

But it does.

He does.

And even if this is just raw, unbridled physical lust with nothing else behind it…I already know I’ll take it.

Gladly.

Mal’s grip tightens on the belt, his other hand sliding into my hair and gripping it in a fist. He grunts as he starts to roughly fuck my mouth, thrusting into it like it’s my pussy. Lewd, wet gluck gluck sounds fill the room, and spit drips freely from my mouth down my chin and onto my breasts.

My fingers are a blur between my legs, rubbing my clit furiously as the need for more-more-more throbs in my core.

Mal throws his head back, his cock swelling even thicker and bigger, the veins throbbing and pulsing as I slobber and moan all over him. I can barely fit half of him in my mouth—that’s being generous. Just the same, Mal’s abs tighten, a low groan rumbling deep in his chest as he starts to fuck my throat at an insane tempo.

“Fuck, Freya,” he growls darkly. “You’re such a good little slut that you’re going to make me come. Stroke my cock. Make me come all over your pretty face.”

Fucking HELL.

The raw, primal need for this man, to let him use me like his personal little fuck toy, is insane—and for a brief second, I question my mental stability and sanity again.

But I can’t stop. Don’t want to stop.

Give me more. Give me your worst. Give me all of you.

I reach up with both hands, sucking on his swollen head with eager, loud slurps as I stroke his slick, pulsing shaft. Mal’s eyes turn the color of the North Atlantic, his jaw tight and his mouth a vicious line as he stares right into my eyes.

“Make me come, baby girl,” he growls. “Make me come all over that pretty fucking face.”

His thick cock swells to steel. The veins bulge as his heavy balls draw up tight. I watch almost in slow motion as the head throbs, and when the first hot jet of his cum spurts from it and lands across my open mouth and tongue, I moan.

“Good fucking girl…”

The next one splatters over my cheek. Then my nose, then my other cheek, and my chin, and my mouth again; covering me in his cum like a complete whore as I jerk him off onto my face.

With a groan, he slowly pulls away. He releases my hair and the belt, his palms going flat against the glass above me as he slowly catches his breath.

For a second, reality starts to bleed in. I feel my cheeks heat, and I’m about to ask for a towel.

But reality has no place here.

In half a second, he’s grabbing my hair in a fist again. I whimper, feeling myself diving right back into the darkness as he turns and pulls me after him, sending me down onto the floor. My breath becomes ragged and choking as I land on my hands and knees, hearing Mal slowly walk around behind me.

The schick sound of a blade being drawn has my throat closing and the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.

“Mal—”

He suddenly grabs the back of my pants. I feel a sharp tug and a yanking motion and hear the sound of fabric shredding and ripping. It’s only then that I realize what he’s doing.

He’s cutting my fucking pants off with a knife.

I moan as he keeps slicing, yanking, shredding, and ripping, until my pants are basically leg warmers falling down to my knees. A gasp ripples from my throat as he flips me roughly over onto my back and shoves my knees up to my chest.

Instantly, he’s in front of me, spreading my thighs wide and angling his still-swollen, huge dick between them. I cry out, biting my lip and tasting his salty cum as Mal slips the blade of his knife under the waist of my Kiki de Montparnasse black lace panties.

With a yank of his muscled arm, the expensive lingerie slices away from me like tissue paper. Mal grins fiendishly, yanking them from my body and bringing them to his face. His eyes lock with mine as he inhales deeply, making me flush darkly. When he pulls them away from his nose, he’s got a wild look in his eyes as he runs the fat head of his cock up and down my pussy, pushing it over my swollen clit.

I gasp sharply, choking on a moan as he leans over me, sinking just an inch of his big dick into my wet tightness.

“Open your mouth, whore.”

I do. Instantly, he shoves my ruined panties into my mouth, smearing some of his cum over my lips and cheek before he grabs the end of the belt still looped around my neck.

“When I say I’ve been holding back,” he growls, his eyes locked with mine. “I mean it.”

Oh fuck…

“So when I say be ready to use your safe word…”

I scream into my panties when Mal suddenly rams every fucking thick inch of his massive cock deep into me, filling me to the point that it feels like the air has been shoved from my lungs.

“Be ready to fucking use it. And you’d better pray I feel like listening.”

His forearm ripples, his hand yanking tightly on the belt as he draws his thick cock out of my clinging pussy. When he fucks back into me, it’s harder, faster, and somehow even deeper than before.

Then he does it again: rougher, savagely.

Viciously.

My eyes roll back as Mal starts to pound even faster, his jaw grinding and his eyes never leaving mine as he draws out and then fucks back into me, over and over.

“Such a pretty little whore, getting fucked on the floor with cum on her face and her panties in her slutty little mouth,” he growls, making me squeal as he rams his cock into me.

He does it again, his heavy balls slapping my ass, followed by his palm smacking my ass cheek. I squeal again, whining and moaning into my panties as he starts to fuck me like a goddamn animal.

The lewd, wet sounds of Mal fucking the living shit out of me fill the guesthouse, along with my muffled squeals of pleasure. His muscles bulge, his jaw tight and his eyes wild with a manic, terrifying gleam as he starts to fuck me right into the floor.

My eyes roll back, the combination of pain and pleasure from the brutal way he’s fucking me sending me into a headspace I’ve never experienced before. I almost feel like I’m floating as I submit to this man completely, letting him control me in every way.

My body. My pleasure. My fucking air.

My vision swims as he tightens the belt, his huge cock ramming into me over and over until all I can see is the possessed icy blue of his eyes. His other hand reaches out to pinch and twist and tug my nipple piercings mercilessly, until the heavenly mix of pleasure and pain threatens to break me in two.

When I start to come, it’s like someone pulling the trigger on a gun. My orgasm comes out of nowhere, reaching out of the haze of dark black pleasure choking me to yank me down into the abyss.

Mal doesn’t even slow. Doesn’t stop. He just keeps pounding into me, bruising my thighs with his as he utterly dominates me.

I shriek, whimpering into the spit-soaked lace of my panties when he suddenly pulls out and flips me roughly onto my front. I cry out at the rough way he’s manhandling me, wincing when my brutalized nipples drag across the floor.

At the same time, holy fuck.

This isn’t sex. This isn’t even fucking.

This is two animals, or gods, trying to fuck each other to death. I moan when he grabs my thighs, spreading my legs wide and settling between them. He pushes his gorgeous, thick cock into me from behind, ramming deep as I squeal in pleasure and pain.

He grabs the belt and my hair, yanking my head up as he grunts savagely and pounds into me. He reaches around, grabbing my panties out of my mouth as his hips roll and crash into me.

“Let’s clean that messy fucking face off, my greedy little cockslut.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

I start to come apart at the seams when Mal starts pushing his cum off my cheeks and into my mouth while he keeps fucking me like a wild beast. His huge size rams into me over and over, his fingers pushing salty sweet cum across my tongue as he fucks my mouth with his fingers. His palm slaps my ass hard, again and again, until I’m squealing and sobbing in pleasure, writhing and shuddering on the floor completely unhinged.

“After I come inside this slutty little hole,” Mal growls, pounding into me and slapping my ass again, “I think I’m going to feed it to you.”

Reality starts to crack and crumble around me.

“So be a good little slut for me and say please daddy, can I have your cum?”

My entire world starts to crack apart, a huge, all-consuming wave of pleasure rearing up to crash over me and drown me in otherworldly pleasure as I choke out the words, my face caving.

“Please daddy! Can I have your cum?!”

That’s it. That’s the moment I break.

My whole fucking body spasms and wrenches, twisting and bucking and seizing as I scream my release. The orgasm tears through me like a firestorm, utterly destroying me, melting me down to nothing as I collapse on the floor.

Mal roars, fucking my limp, battered body until his fat cock swells and pulses violently, pumping his hot cum deep inside of me.

Holy. Fucking. FUCK.

I’m dimly aware of him pulling slowly out of me. I wince at the soreness that stabs through me. But fuck me, it’s a sweet, sweet pain.

Mal gently rolls me onto my back on the floor. For a second, I’m not sure what’s happening as he drops down between my legs.

Then I find out.

Oh, shit…

I mewl quietly, my eyes fluttering shut as I feel his tongue drag gently through my battered, swollen, bruised pussy lips. He groans into me, tonguing my aching clit and then pushing his tongue deep into me.

He doesn’t give a shit that he just came in there. He just slowly and gently devours me. Ten seconds ago, I would have sworn on my life that I’d need a month to heal and re-sensitize before I could even think about orgasming again.

But a minute into Mal’s tongue between my legs, I realize I was wrong.

Very, very wrong.

When I come again, it’s a soft, rolling, wave that washes over me, tingling and teasing though my body as he tongues my clit. I’m still shaking and quivering as he slides up between my legs and over me. He holds himself there, his face inches from mine and his piercing eyes cutting deep into me.

Then he kisses me.

Hard.

My eyes fly open in surprise when I feel the warm, salty taste hit my tongue. Then I realize what’s happening, and it’s quite possibly the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever dreamed of.

Mal is pushing his own cum from my pussy into my mouth with his tongue.

I mean not even my fucked-up mind could have thought up that one.

His tongue wrestles with mine for a moment, our mouths locking before he slowly pulls away.

“I did tell you I was going to feed it to you.”

That he did.

That. He. Did.