Perfect Monster: A Fake Marriage Mafia Romance (The Oligarchs)

My head felt like it might unhook from my neck and float up toward the mural on the ceiling. “Pre-nup? Marriage certificate? What the hell are you talking about?”

My back ached from where I’d smashed into the bench. I sat up and glared at him.

He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face as water continued to drip down his incredible body.

My mind raced again, thinking back to those papers. Roza hadn’t let me look at them—hadn’t let me even see the bottom page.

That as the certificate. The long contract was the pre-nup.

“When you witnessed Manzi kill Dia, I thought that would be an inconvenience. You fascinated me at the time, but ever since we first met I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. When Roza told me who your father is and how deeply connected he is to the MacKenna family, I decided my plans would have to shift. Manzi complicated things. But you might fix all my problems.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I climbed up onto my bench, breathing hard, leaning back against the cold tile wall. It was freezing against my skin.

“Plans, Cassie. I had plans, so many plans. That party, that was the beginning of my revenge, but Manzi decided to ruin things before they even began. Now though, I see another way to get what I wanted.”

“I don’t know how forcing me into some illegal marriage could do that.”

“Legality isn’t the problem here.” He stepped toward me, a beautiful monster. I thought I might be sick. “I find you attractive Cassie, more than I think you even realize. It takes all of my strength not to rip you to pieces for my own pleasure. But more than that, I think you’ll be useful. You can open doors to me with the MacKenna family that would otherwise remain shut.”

“You want to use me to get close to my father?” I could barely believe what I was hearing. “I’m not involved with him anymore. He doesn’t give a shit about me.” Ruined, you’re fucking ruined. Those were his words.

“That’s just not true. Your father cares very much about you, which is why he’s been watching you for weeks.

My eyes widened. “You’re lying.”

“I’ve never lied.”

“Roza did when she made me sign those documents.”

“A misdirection at best. You could’ve asked to read the pages.”

“My father wouldn’t bother to watch me, no matter what you think.”

“Your father’s good, I’ll admit it, but not good enough. He won’t be able to find you here, not if I don’t want him to.”

“What happened that night with that Italian? The one who nearly killed me?”

His face darkened. “That was a mistake.”

“I didn’t think you made mistakes.”

“Giatno let slip to my spies within his organization that he was pulling his men away from you in order to dedicate more resources to finding his son. I believed that information was good, and so allowed my men to back off in order to have a private meeting with you. Unfortunately, Giatno hoped I would do exactly that, and made his move. Only he didn’t expect me to show up in person.”

“You wanted a private meeting with me? I don’t understand.”

He only stared at me with an earnest and longing expression.

“You were never in real danger. Listen to me Cassie. We can do something big together. I can give you things you never imagined—“

“I don’t want anything to do with you.” I tried to push past him, but he wouldn’t let me go. He held onto my hips, and when I struggled, he pushed me down onto the bench and kept me pinned there, kneeling between my legs. “Let go of me, you asshole.”

“You’re my wife now, whether you like it or not. There are several judges on my payroll and a very large staff that will all attest to being at the wedding. You can play along and keep yourself alive in the process, or you can fight hard and make things fun for me. Either way, I will get what I want.”

I tried to take calming breaths but his hands held me down and all I wanted to do was struggle, fight, scream, kick.

He tricked me into marrying him. He used me as some pawn—and lured me here in the process.

I struggled and said through my teeth, “Let go of me.”

“Not until you understand. I have worked very hard to get to this position and I can feel my revenge slowly slipping away—“

“Revenge?” I gaped at him, barely suppressing a scream. “This is all for revenge?”

“For the murder of my father by the MacKenna family. They killed him in cold blood at the wedding of my cousin three years ago, and in all that time they haven’t been brought to justice. I will burn this world to ashes before I allow them to go unpunished forever.”

The intensity of his words made me stop struggling. I took deep breaths like he showed me in the car and that helped, but I still could barely understand what was happening.

“How does forcing me to marry you help with that?”

“It brings them to the table. Your father will make it happen, even if there are those within the MacKenna organization that don’t want it. They know I’m dangerous.”

“It’s not going to work. I told you, he doesn’t care about me. I’m damaged goods.” I tossed the words out like sour spit.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” His grip softened. He reached up with one hand, touched my cheek.

I jerked away.

I didn’t know which part he meant—about my father, or about me.

“What if I don’t want to play your game?”

“It doesn’t matter. I can keep your locked away down here forever. You’ll be safe and comfortable until everything’s finished. All I need is proof of our marriage, which I have. That’ll be enough to get what I want.”

“Enough for your revenge.”

“That’s right.” He tilted his head, leaned closer. “What would you give to make those that hurt you the most pay for their crimes?”

I closed my eyes. The knife across my stomach. The crunch of bone and skull beneath a car tire. “I don’t know. It doesn’t help. Revenge won’t fix anything.”

“No, but it’ll make me feel good.”

He came closer and released my other wrist. I stared at him, not moving, as he looked into my eyes, his heavy body leaning over mine, all that muscle, all that incredible skin.

I didn’t know how a man could be so gorgeous on the outside and so rotten beneath the surface.

“I don’t want to be part of your game.”

“You’re not a toy to me.”

“Then why do you call me little doll?” I sneered at him, tiled my chin up. “That’s right, I asked Roza.”

He smiled and reached up. He stroked my cheek with his thumb then ran it down my lower lip. It took all my discipline to keep from letting out a moan.

“There’s a difference between something to be used and discarded and something to be kept and cherished.”

“This isn’t how you treat something you care about.”

“You clearly don’t know me at all.”

He kissed my neck. All that self-control disappeared and a soft groan escaped my lips.

He forced me into a marriage I didn’t want and he was dragging me back into the life I worked so hard to leave behind. I should scream at him and rage and fight as hard as I could to get away.

Instead, when his lips came up to mine, I bit hard.

And he only groaned in return as he shoved my legs wide open and his fingers rolled against my hot wetness.

I bit down harder. Tasted blood. He grabbed the edge of my bathing suit bottoms and pulled.

I released him and gasped in shock. I reached down to cover the scar, but it was too late.

He saw and his eyes burned with something I didn’t recognize.

“Don’t hide from me, little doll.” He grabbed my wrists and pulled them away.

I struggled. “No, please.”

He spit blood onto the tile then kissed my stomach. I tried to pull away, tried to cover the scar—that ugly gash cutting me in half—as he kissed down, closer and closer. He left a trail of blood until he reached the jagged, puckered skin.

He kissed every inch of it, from one end to the other. I felt his warm, soft lips and tongue, and he left more blood.

I leaned my head back and moaned.

Nobody touched me like that. Nobody looked at my scar. I never let someone near it before, let alone kiss my private shame. He had no clue what the scar was or what it meant to me, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Perfect,” he murmured. “Delicious. Look at you. He kissed down, heading to my pussy, and released my wrists.

I grabbed his hair and pulled hard.

He grunted in surprised and looked up. His eyes were fire, lightning, a raging storm.

“Please,” I said, not sure what I mean.

He slammed his lips against mine.

I tasted his blood. I wanted to bite him again. Instead, he pushed my legs open and his fingers rolled along my soaking pussy lips. I moaned and shuddered at the sudden jolt of pleasure. His fingers moved along my clit, teasing me, spreading my juices all around—

Before he sank two deep inside.

“Oh god,” I said into his mouth.

He rubbed my clit with his thumb as he fucked me with his fingers. He kissed my chest and reached up to untie my top.

My fingers tightened, but I didn’t stop him.

“Look at you,” he said, staring at my breasts the bikini fell forward. I let it slide off before pushing myself back against the wall. His fingers felt like heaven as he fucked me with them, thumb rolling up against my swollen clit in pure bliss.

He looked at me like I was a treasure, like I was a goddess. His gaze roamed down to my scar—god, that scar, that ugly fucking scar—then back up to my breasts. He licked my nipples, bit them gently, sucked them harder, and fucked my pussy faster, and I moaned loud enough to fill the room with my pleasure, my hips moving, all anger forgotten in bliss.

But he stopped, pulled back. I groaned in surprise and anger. I was so close to release, needed him to keep going—

“I want to taste you.”

Those words almost set me over the edge.

He spread me wide and licked me, sucked me, lapped me up with a hunger I’d never experienced before. I grabbed his hair hard, venting my anger and frustration as I pushed his mouth against my pussy. I rolled my hips, and he only growled in response and sucked my clit harder. He pulled back, sunk his fingers inside, used his thumb, and grabbed my hair tight.

“I want to see you come. When you’re finished, you’ll suck my fingers clean and thank me for it.”

“Fuck you.” My eyes rolled back. Bliss ripped along my skin.

“You’re my wife now. I’ll fuck you when I’m ready. For now, you’ll come on my fingers, and you’ll be happy I gave you that much.”

“Oh god Roman. You can’t do this to me.”

“I can and I will. I don’t play games. I don’t go half way. I’m going to rip this world to pieces and you’re going to come with me for the ride. I’ll make it worth your while my doll, my princess, my perfect, beautiful goddess. I’ll fuck your tight cunt and make you suck my cock until I fill your throat. I’ll make you come, again and again. I’ll leave you a sweaty, moaning mess, and then use you for my pleasure. All that I ask is you give me what I want. All I ask is your hand in marriage.”

My back arched and blinding pleasure rocked down my spine. I came on his hand like nothing I’d ever felt before, like an avalanche, like a tidal wave. My mind was gone, my body was on fire, and there was Roman and his voice talking me through it, making me give him what I wanted, and unable to stop him.

That monster. That fucking bastard.

My orgasm slowly ended. He licked my nipple, bit it hard, and pulled his fingers out.

True to his word, he pressed them against my lips.

I took them inside my mouth. I bit him hard, but he only grunted in pain and didn’t pull away.

I released my jaw, then took his fingers as deep into my mouth as I could, staring into his eyes the whole time.

He wanted to use me?

Let him use me.

I’d try and fuck him in return if I could.

I sucked my juice from him, savoring every drop, rolling my tongue around and around. I pulled back and let a string of saliva drip onto his fingertip.

His eyes roamed my body. His cock was so hard it strained against his bathing suit.

I thought he might push me down and fuck me then and there.

Instead, he pulled back and stood.

I covered my scar instantly. I didn’t care if he looked at my tits—which he did, hungrily. But he wouldn’t have my scar. He couldn’t have my past, what happened to me.

My body, maybe. But not what I was.

“I know you’re angry, but I’m doing all of this for a reason. I’m saving your life and getting what I want.”

“You could’ve asked me first.”

“Maybe. But what’s the fun in that?” He spit more blood on the tile. “I like it when you bite. Harder next time.”

Then he grabbed a towel from a rack next to the door and left the room.

I wrapped my arms around myself and sat there staring at the water for what felt like forever before I managed to get up, dry myself off, and pull my clothes back on. I smelled like pool water and sex.

And I could still taste him on my lips.

Blood and pussy and desire.