Beautiful Trouble: A Dark Mafia Romance - Page 50

“It’s not about power. He’s the one that’s amassed too much strength.”

“I get it, there’s a personal aspect and he probably deserves whatever he gets, but still. This whole thing consumes you. Will it ever go away, even when he’s dead?”

I took her words in and felt them reverberate down my spine. On some level, I knew she was right, and I didn’t want to examine that too closely.

“At least my family will be safe without him. Anthony especially.”

“Do you think Roman still wants him dead?”

“I don’t know what Roman wants.”

“Maybe you should ask.”

I clenched my jaw and leaned toward her. I grabbed her knee and dug my fingers into her skin. “He tried to murder my brother. My ten-year-old brother.”

She looked at me sadly. “I know that. And it’s so fucked up. But how long ago did that happen?”

“Not long enough.” I eased my grip on her leg then dropped to my knees. I pushed her knees apart and pulled her to the edge of the chair. She sucked in a sharp breath and looked down at me as I lifted her shirt and kissed her stomach. “You don’t understand. I saw Roman as a friend back then, and for him to try something like that—I’ll never forgive it.”

“Then it’ll consume you and I’m afraid it’ll consume me too.”

I pushed her back against the chair. “Would that be so bad? To be consumed by me?”

“Yes,” she whispered, voice husky as I unbuttoned her jeans.

“I want that. I want to eat you up and swallow you whole. I want to dominate, devour, and consume you until you’re entirely mine. Does that terrify you?”

“Yes, it scares the hell out of me.” I tugged her jeans off. She lifted her ass and let me.

“It scares the hell out of me too.” I kissed her thighs, her hips, then pushed aside her panties and ran a finger along her slit. She was soaking wet. Dripping already. God, the things this woman did to me. “I’ve never wanted someone like this before. It drives me insane. I keep thinking about you, day and night. I realized not long ago that I should be out there fighting, but instead I’m in here, hiding away with you.”

“You’re protecting your family.” She let out a soft moan as I licked her, nibbling at her folds, then up to her clit. Her hips shifted and her eyes closed as she sucked in a breath, panting faster. “You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“And yet I still do.” I moved up and kissed her. She sat up straight and I pulled her against my body, feeling her breasts, her legs spread apart, her pussy glistening. I let her taste her own cunt on my lips and tongue, bit her softly, then harder, made her grunt with surprise and pain.

She liked it when I made her hurt. I fisted her hair, pulled it, kissed her neck, her throat.

“Does this mean you’re leaving me?” She gasped when I bit her shoulder then pulled her shirt off. Her breasts heaved as she stared at me, lips swollen and pink from kissing. “You’re going out to fight?”

“No, god damn it. As much as I should, I can’t.”

“Then what do you want?”

“To marry you.” I ran my fingernails down her back. She shivered as I kissed her softly. “In three days.”

She pushed me back. “What did you say?”

“We’re getting married in three days.”

“I thought I had more time.”

“You don’t. You’ll be my wife, and whatever happens will happen.”

“That sounds almost philosophical.”

I pull her up then turned her around, bending her over the chair. She gasped as I spanked her perfect ass, leaving a nice red mark on her pale flesh.

“The only philosophy I care about is the philosophy of your body. The study and contemplation of your orgasms, your moans, your breasts and lips.” I spanked her again, harder, then gave her pleasure by rubbing her clit. She wiggled her hips, fingers gripping the top of the chair.

I unbuckled my belt, spanked her again, took off my pants.

I was so hard I could scream with rage.

“Then what? I’ll be your wife. What will that accomplish?”

“It’ll buy me time, which is all I need.” I pressed my cock against her then peeled off her panties and took off my boxer briefs. I spread her ass and licked her from behind, tasting her pussy, tasting every inch of her, before pressing my cock against her slick opening.

She looked back over her shoulder, eyes burning with a mixture of hate and lust. “I’ve never been so close to getting killed before.”

“Good.” I grabbed her hair and thrust myself deep, bottoming out. “Get used to it.”

I fucked her fast and raw. There was nothing tender. Her skin beaded with sweat as she took my rough thrusts and bucked her hips wild, wanting more. We writhed against each other, her lips over her shoulder and against mine, and my hands slapping her ass over and over.

Tags: B.B. Hamel Crime
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