Beautiful Trouble: A Dark Mafia Romance

This was what he did to me. All logic, all anger, all resentment, all my feelings dissipated into nothing. He fucked me from behind, kissed my lips over my shoulder, slapped my ass, and made me gasp his name over and over, and nothing else mattered in the world except his cock, this pleasure, this man. He took me like heaven, like I was made for him, and I couldn’t get enough. He whispered in my ear, told me all the filthy things he wanted from me—and we had a lifetime to do them.

I came in a fit of moans, my knees shaking. He didn’t slow or stop. He pumped me full, coming deep between my legs, like the earth shattering and breaking beneath my feet.

He left me quivering with unbridled lust and dizzy with the feel of him.

I fell into his arms. He hugged me tight against his chest and kissed my hair, breathing my smell. He was fresh earth and deep caves. The smell of darkness and life.

“My wife,” he whispered.

I nuzzled him closer. My husband.

25

Darren

I sat down heavily behind my desk and sighed. My cock still pulsed with Winter, despite having tasted her only twenty minutes earlier out in the woods. I couldn’t satiate myself, not with her around.

It would be a problem if I didn’t love it so much.

I knew she had the phone. We’d found it on our initial search of Roza, but I ordered the guards to let it through.

Maybe that wasn’t fair, but I wanted to test her.

Trust was a luxury. In other times, as a different person, I could rely on old-fashioned notions of how relationships were supposed to function.

Unfortunately, I was an Oligarch, and I had to be sure.

So I let Winter take the phone.

If she wanted to fuck me, she could fuck me. I’d let her do it—

Then make her pay.

But she didn’t. My heart sang out when she refused to run.

It was a step in the right direction.

If I wanted to make this marriage real, then I’d have to start building that foundation of mutual understanding.

For now, this would have to suffice. One passed test and my undying, undiminished lust for her flesh.

My desk phone rang. It was an internal line. “Yes?”

Chika’s voice. “Anthony to see you.”

“He’s back already?”

“So it would seem.”

“Send him to my office.”

I hung up. Anthony stepped inside a few minutes later. He looked tired and haggard, with bags under his eyes, but he gave me a cocky grin and slumped down into one of the easy chairs near the fireplace.

“You should be out killing our enemies,” I said.

Anthony shrugged. “I needed a break.”

“Rest when you’re dead.”

“Good one. You realize that’s a cliché, don’t you?” He ran a hand through his hair and tugged at it. “I’ve got a report.”

“What’s happening?”

“Roman is on the defensive. Kaspar and the Patrenkos have him retreating almost all the way back to Boston. In a few days, we’ll have him penned in.”

“The Liberto Family?”

“Still bickering among themselves. They’re effectively hamstrung. The MacKennas are with Roman still, but they’re a shadow of their former strength. The Drozdovs are still a problem though.”

“Once they’re all trapped in Boston, they’ll be easy pickings if we’re careful and patient.”

Something flashed in Anthony’s eyes. I wasn’t sure if it was fear or something else. He ran another hand through his hair—and I realized he was nervous.

“There’s something else,” he said.

“Good news, I hope.”

“Hadeon Patrenko is dead. Killed in fighting near Philadelphia. Ivan’s in charge right now, but I’m worried he won’t be strong enough to hold the family together.”

“Do what you have to do to make sure they keep fighting. We need them right now.”

“I’ll do my best.” Anthony sighed and leaned his head back. “Roman is outnumbered and outgunned, but he’s still putting up one hell of a fight.”

“He’s strong. There’s a reason we’re doing this.”

“I thought more Oligarchs would join once they saw him losing.”

“Whether they do or not isn’t important. Keep the faith.”

He nodded sharply and stood. “We’re going to win this.”

“I know. Take a few days to rest before you go back out there. I was joking about the dying part.”

“I know you were, big bro.” He walked to the door. “How’s married life treating you, by the way?”

“It’s about what you’d expect.”

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it.” Anthony smiled at me again, though it was a ghost of his normal effusive self, then slipped out into the hall.

I needed to have someone watch him. If the pressure was starting to take a toll, I had to make sure he was taken out of the fight before he cracked. I made a note to follow up with Chika about a replacement for Anthony when Penny burst into my office and slammed the door behind her.

I grimaced and gave her a level stare. “Hello, youngest sister. How are you doing this morning?”