Marrying the Mob Prince

Evie

I'm grateful that my husband doesn't mince words.

I'd married the monster.

Soon I'd have to sleep with him.

It was a splinter in my mind, driving me mad.

Until now, the activity at the reception had swept it from my head. There'd been enough to occupy me with the forced wedding, the endless receiving line, and my husband's strange hostility. Getting in the mood would be impossible, even if he hadn't threatened to dismember someone.

Tony was certifiable, more jaded than a former convict. He stood on the harbor, his sharp silhouette illuminated by yellow lights. Apparently, he preferred standing outside in the miserable weather than talking to me. What the hell was wrong with him?

And didn't he eat?

My vision tunneled as I finished my Aperol spritz, a cocktail I'd never tried before. There was so much I hadn't experienced because I'd grown up in a clubhouse, and I loved the way the orange syrup cradled the bottom of the glass, the citrus tang, how the sparkling wine teased my tongue before sweetness rolled in. The drink went down easy, so I'd had four.

A blurry outline swam into focus.

I ignored the bold frame. My mouth was papery, dry and dusty. I gulped the melted ice. The heavy presence lingered, heating the space between us like smoking coal. What did he want?

I gave his immaculate suit serious side-eye.

Tony didn't take the hint. He leaned into my chair. Then a jacketed arm swung forward. He pried the cup from me and set it aside. He had beautiful hands-tapered, tanned, neat cuticles, with tattoos crawling from his sleeve. Small nicks and scrapes marked his knuckles, but I could've used him as a model for my watch.

"You've had enough. No more."

Drinking wasn't making it better, but his cold disapproval whipped me in a fury.

"If I'm spending the night with my cheek stuck to the bathroom floor, that's my problem." I raised my head, glaring at him. "Not yours."

"By all means, make a fool of yourself. Peeling you off the ground would be the perfect ending to this wedding."

"You realize you're the reason I'm drinking, right?"

I thought he'd leave. Instead he slid into the seat beside mine.

"You're in for a rough eight hours unless you eat." He turned, addressing the bodyguard. "How many has she had?"

Christian squinted. "Five?"

"Get her some water." He grabbed my empty glass and handed it to the man. "And a plate of food. Something heavy with meat. Don't skimp on the starch. She needs it to absorb all the cocktails."

A thin chill clung to Tony's words.

Christian raked his hair. "It's a wedding."

"You trying to give my bride alcohol poisoning?"

My cheeks warmed. "Tony, I'm fine."

"Sorry, T."

"Don't let it happen again." He gripped my arm. Then he leaned in, his body heat burning through his suit.

The aggression didn't scare me, but the hand weighing me knotted my insides.

"I'm not that drunk."

"You're a lightweight, Evie." Sparks in my chest erupted at my name rolling off his tongue. "Evie. Is that French?"

"No idea. Mom probably heard it on TV."

"Where is she?"

I shrugged, ignoring the ache. "Living her best life somewhere else."

"What does that mean?"

"Now you're interested in my backstory? After biting my head off the whole fucking night? Give me the spritz back. Then make like a leaf, and split."

His grim expression broke with the ghost of a smile. "You're so wasted that you're confusing your idioms."

"Oh fuck off."

I rarely got this nasty, but he brought it out in me. He'd trashed my every expectation and turned a celebration into a funeral.

A Whitney Houston ballad warbled through the air, breaking up the agony of another Italian folk song. Couples in the dark revolved, spinning effortlessly. That shot an arrow through my lingering euphoria.

A pang burrowed in my heart.

God, this sucked. "Can we go?"

"Not yet. You're slurring and off-balance." He planted the water in my hands. "Drink. Sober up."

"Why do I have to sober up?"

"I need to make you mine, and I don't fuck drunk girls."

I squeezed the glass.

The bodyguard returned, balancing a giant plate of frites and poached salmon. The fat from the fish spiraled into my nostrils. Tony's stare bored into me until I seized the fork. Then I dug into the entree. Cajun spice hit my tongue, melting with the buttery meat. I ate until the heaviness dissipated from my mind, leaving me in a frazzled panic.

What would I do when Tony got me alone?

"Feel better?"

I nodded, staring at his tie. I waited, torn apart by nerves.

He took my elbow. "Let's get this over with."

The hotel room was smaller than I liked.

A king-sized bed sat in the middle, swallowing the space. My dress trailed the carpet as I approached the windows overlooking the Boston Common, showcasing a flurry against the midnight sky. Snowflakes danced, weightless and free. I pressed my palm against the cold, willing it to enter my body and freeze my heart.

The door shut.

I swallowed hard.

My cousin coached me for tonight. She'd held my hand through the gory details of violent sex. Guys in the clubhouse could be rough, borderline abusive. There was always gossip about one or two members. The worst had been Crash, who'd died several years ago. He was a biker with an unblinking glare that reminded me of Tony.

Something was... wrong with him.

I turned, unable to bear the silence.

Tony stood nearby as though he expected me to run. He lifted his square jaw, his dark eyes growing with a wildness.

A hunger.

He'd already unbuttoned his collar. His rolled up sleeves revealed hairy, tatted forearms. Taut muscle peeked through his shirt, the bronzed skin accenting the shadows. My gaze panned down his golden neck and the savagely virile, perfectly sculpted body. Every fiber in me urged me to escape, but his beauty sucked the air from my lungs.

He'd take my virginity.

And the bastard wouldn't be gentle.

A furnace-like heat consumed me, but I didn't fight when he peeled his coat from my back. He'd wrapped me in it as we'd left the reception, the gesture warming me more than the wool.

I flexed my hands. "I guess we're doing this."

"Yes."

He dropped the coat.

It landed, the sound making me jump. I gathered his coat. Shaking, I smoothed the fabric and draped it over a chair.

"It's too nice to leave on the floor."

He studied me, head cocked. "Nervous?"

His velvet-edged tone sounded curious, and my pulse raced uncomfortably.

I inhaled a ragged breath as I paced the narrow space between the bed and the dresser. I itched for something to do and glimpsed the mini-fridge. I opened it and grabbed a bottle. Tony seized my wrist.

"I said, you've had enough."

His growl mangled my nerves, but I daringly met his eyes.

"Who the fuck asked you?"

"Your liver." He twisted the vodka from my grasp and shoved it away. "Your heart. Your brain. Every organ gets damaged from alcohol."

"Is that why you're such a nutcase?"

Doubt and fear congested my mind as Tony refused to take the bait. He kicked the fridge shut. "You'll thank me in the morning when you're not dry heaving."

"You won't even be here," I shot back. "Right?"

"Nope."

Thank God.

I sagged as a weight lifted from my shoulders. Then my spirit blackened as I pictured waking up alone, every single day. His tone confirmed a lifetime of lonely mornings. What a depressing start for our marriage. My throat thickened.

None of this was what I wanted.

Tony seemed to hate it, too. He ripped off his suit jacket and threw it in the door's direction. Rage spoke through the violence in which he undressed. It scoured my skin when his gaze fell on me.

He moved fluidly to my side, a big cat stalking prey. He caught my neck like jaws on a kill. Dread pitted my stomach. My cousin had instructed me not to resist, and I wouldn't, but this was worse than I'd imagined.

I trembled at being taken by such a powerful man. My lungs tightened. I breathed in shallow gasps. His stare sent a tremor through me as he unlaced the buttons on my lower back.

Snap.

Snap.

Snap.

I swallowed hard. The roaring in my head drowned out my panic as his lean body molded into my curves. The wall of mouth-watering muscle reminded me there was no escape.

He seemed to notice my torment. His burning palm briefly cupped my face. Then he stroked, the sensation warm and sweet. Heat webbed my skin as he slipped to my neck. I held my breath as he explored my curves. All my senses filled with Tony, the feelings he provoked. He made no sound, but his breathing vibrated through me. I could taste the musky, vanilla scent clinging to him. Flames erupted everywhere he touched.

I waited, my nerves shot. "Are you always like this?"

His eyes flicked at me with a silent question.

"You're very...intense."

That was putting it lightly. Tony clasped me to him, roughly, like he'd forgotten how to hold a woman without causing her pain.

I couldn't swallow the rock in my throat.

"And you're jumpy for someone who grew up in a clubhouse." Tony's stare sliced into my bones. "You must've seen all kinds of shit."

I shuddered. "Nothing I want for myself."

"Why not?"

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"I'm not that kind of girl."

A sadistic curve touched his full lips. "I'm supposed to believe you're as innocent as you look?"

"Believe whatever you want. It doesn't change who I really am."

He yanked the straps down my shoulders.

Holy fuck.

His violent movements fired my bare skin. He teased the lace over my breasts, and a bolt of pleasure struck my core. I gasped at the unexpected passion flooding me. Shame bit my cheeks as my nipples hardened into stiff, aching points. Suddenly, he pulled the dress down, and just like that, I was topless.

"Fuck," he cursed, hands on me. "Jesus."

More soft curses heated me as his arm slid in between my breasts. He took one in hand. The sight of him fondling me was so titillating I clenched my thighs. A hot ache swelled in my throat as he played with me. Warmth spiraled where he stroked.

It felt so good. I was dipped in molten heat.

He flicked my peaked nipple.

I moaned.

"So responsive." His cold gaze danced over my body, which had begun to tremble. "Maybe you're not a liar."

"Of course I'm not!"

Tony seemed unconvinced. He looked at me through a fog. He was on autopilot-not remotely romantic. Even more disturbing, he didn't dial back the aggression. He turned me around and pushed me against the wall, hard.

I didn't struggle. I never moved against him, but he ripped off my dress like a wolf tearing into a kill. Flames chased the chill biting me as he jerked me close. A gasp escaped my lips. I had no time to feel embarrassed about being stripped to my thong. A growing hardness pushed into me with bruising pressure. Painful. Deliciously feral. One arm gripped my waist, keeping me still.

My frantic breathing frosted the glass wall.

Did he hate me that much?

I studied his reflection, the grim set of his jaw.

How could he be so cruel?

He raked my hips, catching the cotton string. It caressed my thigh, and then my panties tumbled to my feet. I stared at them, legs clasped, the space between them extremely hot.

The lack of light meant nobody from the street could see us, but my mind ran wild with images of people at the ground floor, pointing at the groom pinning his naked bride against the window. The air thinned, and I made a choking sound.

"How can you be so afraid of sex?" His nails lightly brushed my curves, and the shock scorched through my body. "Haven't you seen what happens to club girls?"

I swallowed tightly. "I-I'm not a club girl. I'm the president's daughter."

"So it's all right for them to get fucked by everyone, but not you?"

"Your ideas about us are so warped," I hissed, annoyed with his assumptions. "They want to be there. Club girls like tattoos and Harleys. It's a trade-off for free food and shelter."

"Sure. All they have to be is village pussy and can never refuse sex."

"You elitist prick. You think you're better than us." I glared as a muscle flicked in his stubborn face. "Look at what you're doing!"

"I didn't choose this."

"But that won't stop you from taking my virginity."

Tony flipped me, and I winced as my shoulders kissed the freezing glass.

"Why the fuck would it?" His eyes blazed, the fire in them growing as I prolonged the moment.

"Because," I choked out, "we hate each other. We don't even want each other."

"Sounds like a typical marriage to me."

He thought bullying his wife was normal?

Saliva pooled in my mouth. If he tried to kiss me-if he dared-I would spit at the motherfucker. His eyes, black and dazzling, darkened like angry thunderclouds. Tony lifted a finger to my lips as I shook. The caress was a command, one I wouldn't have obeyed if I weren't so vulnerable.

He hovered over me, his face kindled with a passionate beauty. He fingered a loose tendril on my cheek. Then he trailed down my temple, my skin tingling where he touched. His closeness was like a deadly drug, conjuring warmth in my belly.

I couldn't move.

I could barely squirm.

Heat bubbled in my chest at being made weak.

"Don't talk. Just listen."

My breath burned in my throat.

"I know that you're scared and pissed off. You're here against your will, totally helpless, and you don't trust me. I'm the opposite of what you wanted in a husband. You probably think I'm up to no good, and you're absolutely right."

Did I hear that correctly?

Pain shot through my jaw from my clenched teeth.

"You can still walk away unscathed. Say the word, and I'll let you go." Tony's nostrils flared as though he'd scented my desperation. "Then you'll be back in the clubhouse, catching all the dick. Is that what you want?"

"You don't scare me," I snarled, sounding a lot braver than I felt. "I've heard it all, and you're nothing compared to my boys."

"Your boys. The same guys who let an Italian marry one of their women?"

I imagined throwing him off the balcony.

"Make your decision, Evie."

My jumbled thoughts collided like two fireworks exploding into each other. Dad would be furious if I screwed up this alliance. He'd write me off, and then what? He'd sell my jewelry and the gold, torch my studio, and kick me off the property.

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I couldn't risk that.

His hand rolled over my shoulder, anchoring there. He branded me like a hot iron. It didn't occur to me to shake him off. He made his intentions clear with the massage he pressed into my lower back.

I wouldn't allow him to play games with me. If I had to do this, we would have sex on my terms.

Should I touch him?

I was morbidly curious about that stony jaw but couldn't work up the nerve. Instead I stroked the sliver of chest peeking from his shirt. Hair brushed my palm before I pressed down to caress his warmth. He was so strong. His rock-like shoulders filled my hands.

Tony seized me like I came at him with a knife.

"What?" I asked, rattled. "Can't I touch you?"

His nostrils flared. Apparently not.

Slowly, he released me. Then he turned his head, lips grazing my arm. Sparks danced where he kissed-my forearm, the inside of my elbow, gliding to my shoulder. His mouth fastened in the crook of my neck. He sucked, crumbling a mountain

of tension. His teeth sank into me.

I winced, but the pain tingled like warm feathers. The burn spread between my widening legs. He lapped at the sensitive skin. I arched my back. A thrill leaped in me when he ripped away from me. He pulled me from the wall. His hand found my waist, shoving me over the bed.

I braced myself.

It was coming-the rough sex my cousin warned me about. She told me to separate mind from body, but I didn't want to hide. I wanted to be present for every agonizing second. I didn't hate his hands on me, far from it.

His fiery touch swept across my back, sliding lower, to my ass. He tapped it lightly. Then he struck. Stinging burst on my skin. He landed another smarting blow on my thighs, forcing my legs apart.

"Ow-what the fuck?"

"Hold still." His detached voice chilled my blood as his palm rained hellfire. "It'll hurt less if you don't struggle."

"Why are you-ow!"

He spanked me again. I gritted my teeth, hissing with the fierce ache. He hit me. Did he think I would allow him to-I gasped, distracted by him caressing my inner thigh. The sensual movements lit my body on fire. He stroked me as I clung to the bed, trembling.

A bold strike slapped my left cheek, and I jumped forward.

"You'll be a perfect wife. You'll greet me at the door with a kiss and a blowjob, in that order."

"You picked the wrong girl for your 1950s cosplay."

His hand whirled, snapping my skin. My legs tightened with the stinging slaps, the blows erotic more than painful. He grasped a fistful of the fullest part of my ass and then-smack.

I licked my lips, jaw clenched tight to prevent a hiss of pleasure. I couldn't take much more. It was amazing. He'd thrown me into a pool of bliss, and I had no idea what to do with myself. The wicked burn flowed inward, stroking my pussy.

He fisted my hair and yanked.

My back arched, thrusting my hips closer.

Warm liquid dripped on my ass. Was it his cum-no-he'd spat on me. Tony scooped his saliva and lathered himself, slipping between my legs. Then he jammed his fingers inside me.

The blunt force stole the breath from my lungs. I writhed at this forced submission. He fingered me with his saliva, coating my walls. He might've been preparing me for him, but he was getting me off. Perfect. I sank into the bottomless ecstasy as a burning ramped in my chest. I leaned into his touch.

His fingers shoved into me. His hands assaulted me, bringing me to the brink of pleasure.

I bit my lip to kill my groan.

Oh shit.

I was coming. It built up before I could resist. A high-pitched moan exploded from my lips as the slick pressure fucked me. I welcomed him into my body. I couldn't grab him, so I bunched the blankets. His fingers stroked the bundle of nerves in my pussy. I reached behind to grab a handful of his steel ass and squeezed, relishing in his fitness. Damn it, but I needed to touch him. I turned my head and kissed his shoulder.

He pulled his fingers out and slapped my ass.

The burn jolted my arousal. Fuck, that was amazing. My breathing hitched. I shuddered. Then he shoved his fingers back inside me. A wall inside me crashed, obliterated by Tony's thrusting. I screamed into the mattress. My thighs twitched as his strokes slowed, and then I shattered into a thousand glowing stars.

The wave of bliss burned behind my eyes. Suddenly, I burst into tears, overwhelmed. The orgasm was like sunshine hitting my face, pure and joyful. I lay in a flood of liberation. I wanted to hold him.

I groped the sheets, searching for him.

Tony backed away. His warmth left me, dousing me in ice.

What the hell?

I flipped over.

Tony's shirt still hung on his back. His bronze skin cast darker shadows over the lean muscle, and I could've run my tongue over the valleys. A pang hit between my legs at the outline of his perfect cock.

I imagined him taking it out and rutting me. I expected him to.

But he didn't.

Shock flew through me as Tony buttoned his shirt. He dressed like the room was on fire.

What happened?

I wiped my face, thrown by his behavior. "What are you doing?"

Tony threw the dress at me, his voice detached. "Leaving."

Cold struck my belly. "You are?"

He'd owned me. Made me come so hard I'd cried. The space where he'd filled me ached for more. He should finish what he started, not leave me wanting.

"I was never going to fuck you." Tony zipped up his slacks, his mocking drawl in full force. "Just had to see how badly you wanted my cock."

Heat blistered my cheeks.

He winked.

Then he left.