Adrian's Vengeance (Mafia Heirs 1)

"You're fucking crazy," I whisper. "Dio! You're sick!"

"Too fucking bad you just realized that now," Adrian snarls. "Maybe you would've been better off with Vitto. But you won't ever get to find out."

"Fuck," I groan as he bottoms out inside me. I shriek when I feel the tip of his cock hitting my cervix, painfully bumping against my insides. "Don't come there!"

"That's exactly where I'm going to come," he whispers in my ear. "Feel that? Feel me fucking your cervix, Marzia? I'm getting you knocked up right now. Then no one can hurt you."

His words finally register to me.

Is he trying to protect me?

Is Adrian doing this so his father doesn't have a reason to hurt me, or even worse, kill me?

I don't know, but I don't have time to find out, either. The next second, I feel Adrian's warm release flooding my center, and my own release doesn't lag far behind, making my body twist as the waves of desire wash over me.

"We're going to keep doing this until I'm sure you're pregnant," Adrian whispers in my ear as I lie in his arms afterward.

I have so many questions, so many things I'm desperate to find out, but instead of that, my eyes close and I drift into a dreamless sleep.

I wake up in the same position, with Adrian's arms still wrapped around me. I try to break free but he holds on tightly, and when I try to pry his hand off me, he grunts, "Where are you going, bambina?"

"Your arms are heavy," I whisper. "I can't sleep when you're holding me like that."

He pulls me against him instead. I feel like a miniature doll hugging a giant. He towers over me, his taut muscles stretching above me and making me feel so very small.

"You're not going anywhere," he mutters in my ear, "Stay right here like a good girl."

"I can't sleep," I say again.

He groans, pulling me in to inhale my scent. "I don't want to sleep anymore," he growls.

"Then what?"

"Talk to me," he demands. "I want to know everything about Marzia Da Costa. Every little secret. You have no secrets with me, bambina."

I flush, shrugging. "There's nothing to say."

"For some reason, I'm not buying it," he mutters. "Tell me about Vitto..."

"No." I shake my head vehemently. "Not him, please."

"Why not? Don't you want to marry him?" Adrian taunts me. "It's what your papa would have wanted. Don't you want to make him proud?"

"No," I find myself whispering.

"Why not, bambina?"

"Because I don't want Vitto."

"Who do you want then?"

I glare at him. "You know I want you."

"Despite everything?" He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, making me shiver. "Despite what I did to your family? You want me?"

"Always," I whisper, feeling the emotion flowing through me and threatening to choke me with its intensity.

"Good girl," Adrian mutters, pulling me closer against him. "You make me so fucking happy..."

"Are you really going to keep me here for three days?"

He smirks at me. "At least."

"And what about Bruno, what about Nicoletta? Don't you care what they have to say about that?"

"No," Adrian laughs. "I don't give a shit."

"But your father could—"

"Marzia, why don't you let me worry about my father. All you need to worry about is getting pregnant. Then maybe we can convince him to let me marry you instead."

"So that's your plan," I whisper, eyes glittering. "You still want to marry me."

"Of course," he speaks of it so matter-of-factly, as if it's a business transaction. "You need to be mine on paper, too."

"I'll do anything you want..."

"Good." He climbs on top of me and I feel his cock hardening again. "We didn't do it properly the last time."

"What?" I hiss. "You came so deep, Adrian..."

"But we need to do more." He pushes my legs up. There's a manic look in his eyes now as he stares between my legs.

My pussy is already betraying me, and thick droplets of my arousal make me drip. I avert my gaze, too ashamed to bear the weight of his gaze. "I'm still sore," I whisper.

"Too sore to let me take it again? I'll be gentle."

His soft voice is so convincing I find myself nodding. When he slips inside me I wince, but Adrian's isn't doing this to hurt me.

His eyes lock with mine as he begins rocking his hips back and forth, driving his length inside me time and time again, bringing me closer to an orgasm. It doesn't hurt. It feels incredible, doubly so because our eyes are locked in a passionate game of who will cave first.

He moans my name against my lips. This isn't fucking—this is making love, and Adrian is making it impossible to resist him right now. I need him, need this. I need him to come inside me again.

We don't speak, neither of us says a word. We simply sync our breathing and our bodies rock together, teasing one another, bringing us closer and closer to the explosive orgasm that threatens to tear us apart.