The Woman with the Scar (Costa Family)

“Slowly. Over the course of three months,” Brio admitted. “Think I lost something up here in that room,” he admitted, pointing his fingers like a gun at his temple. “Never really got it back. You knew that about me,” he added, pulling the car to a stop behind the building, and looking over his shoulder at me, daring me to contradict him.

The man had cut off my husband’s hands, then left them for me like a present on the kitchen counter.

Of course I knew he had a screw or two loose.

“I’m not Eren,” he added, reaching for the door and moving outside. But only to come around and climb in the back.

“I know that,” I agreed.

“I would never hit you. Or any woman. And I don’t beat people for work just because they fell on hard times. People who get an ass-kicking earned it in some way. And I’m not sorry about having to do that.”

“I understand that.”

“Way I see it, if we want to make something of this, you’re going to need more than to understand it. You’re going to need to be okay with it.

“Won’t be in your face. Work is work. Other shit is other shit. Way it seems, the girls and wives of men in the Family stay uninformed, so they never get wrapped up in the shit. But you will, in the back of your mind, know what I am up to sometimes. That needs to be okay with you.”

I could be okay with that, right?

If he was a good man.

If he treated me right.

I mean, I’d been married to a man who did terrible things to people—including my family—and beat the shit out of me.

Brio and his… homicidal tendencies didn’t seem so bad compared to that, right?

“Okay,” I agreed, nodding.

“Okay?” he asked, leaning down to catch my gaze.

“Okay,” I agreed, giving him a small smile.

“Good. Now that that’s out of the way, we got to talk about this dress,” he said, his finger moving out to trace the edge of the cap sleeve.

“What about it?” I asked, already feeling my skin warm at his touch.

“Lots of things about it. But mostly how it would look much better bunched up around your hips while you ride me,” he said, smirking because he knew what he was doing to me.

“Really? Because I—“ I started, but didn’t get to finish my teasing sentence because his hands were reaching out, pulling me to straddle his lap, then his lips were crashing down on mine.

Hard.

Hungry.

Borderline bruising.

His hands roamed.

Framing my face at first, then massaging down my neck and over my shoulders before, suddenly, he was yanking down the bodice to expose my bra.

He didn’t waste any time yanking at that either, though, bearing me to him completely.

Brio’s hand moved out, closing over one of the swells, then teasing one of the nipples into a hardened peak.

His lips ripped from mine so he could duck down, sucking my other nipple into his mouth.

White-hot need shot down my belly and between my thighs at the sensation, making my hips lift and readjust.

His cock pressed against the juncture of my thighs, hard and as desperate as I felt as my hips did a little roll, feeling him press against my clit, sending a jolt of need through me.

“Brio,” I whimpered, reaching between us to undo his button and zipper, then reaching inside to pull him out.

He reached for his wallet, then quickly rolled on the protection as I shimmied out of my panties, then grabbed his cock at the base and lifted his gaze to mine.

“Ride me,” he demanded, voice rough.

I didn’t even pause to think about where we were parked—right behind the pawnshop that I’d already been away from for too long while someone was likely waiting for me out front.

I was too needy to care.

My hips lifted then slipped down, feeling his cock fill me inch by inch until I was settled on his lap once again.

“Fuck,” Brio hissed, both his hands going to my hips, digging in hard. “Babe, you got to move,” he demanded, pulling my hips up.

Yeah, I didn’t need more encouragement than that.

My hips worked in circles as his started to piston up into me, driving me up faster than seemed possible.

“Fuck, yeah, squeeze my cock,” he growled as my walls tightened around him when I felt pushed right to that edge for one long, agonizing moment, before being thrust over.

I fell into his chest as the orgasm crashed through my system, feeling him continue to thrust through it, drawing it out.

But when I was done, I realized he wasn’t finished with me as he grabbed me and turned, pushing me flat against the seat as he kneeled on it.

Yanking my legs up onto his shoulder, he started fucking me again.

Harder.

Faster.

The whole damn car was rocking with each movement of his hips.