Ruthless Prince (Dark Syndicate 1)

“Why?”

“I don’t want you to go back there,” I answer and steel my spine, readying myself for some crude remark about me being jealous, or some shit he’ll say to hurt me. I’m definitely surprised when he releases his hold on me and chuckles.

“I gave it away weeks ago,” he answers, surprising me further.

“What? You gave it away? You—”

He steals my words with a heart-stopping kiss. The type of heart-stopping, bone-tingling kisses we used to share. The one we didn’t had on our wedding day. I missed those. I missed his lips crushing mine the way they are now, devouring me, like he wants to take me whole.

“Mrs. D’Agostino, just shut up and let me fuck you,” he groans, and I nod.

He slides his fingers inside my pussy, checking if I’m ready for him. I am. I’m always ready for him. He

smiles when he feels his way around my passage and pulls his fingers out to lick off my juices.

Greedily, he lifts my leg, takes hold of his cock, and drives into my pussy, plunging in deep. So deep I gasp and grab his shoulders.

He fills me up completely with his thickness, and my body yields to him. I savor that feeling of him being inside me, and I know from the satisfied look on his face that he can see that I do.

My muscles squeeze around his cock from the intense pleasure when he starts pumping into me. Slow then fast and faster, and oh. My. God.

I arch my back and scream his name.

“That’s right, amore mio, scream. Scream my name because only I can make you feel like this,” he groans, pounding into me. “Only I can fuck you like this because I know exactly what you need.”

He does. That’s why he knows to pick me up so I can wrap my legs around his waist. Fucking me in this position reaches every inch of my body, sizzling my nerves with fire. It burns, it scorches, it incinerates. It wipes my brain clean of everything that isn’t this wild man before me who’s shaken my world in so many ways.

Time freezes, and all I feel is passion and pleasure, desire and carnal, primal need that drives us to take all we can from each other. He smiles wide when I start to move against him too and we crash back into the other side of the wall, tearing down the shower curtains. Something smashes and breaks. We don’t know what it is.

We don’t care what it is.

Then it’s like we both go crazy on each other. I remember coming harder than I ever have, then us leaving the bathroom and heading to the bedroom. Night turns to day. Then we switch from sleep to fucking until it’s night again.

We’re so engrossed in each other that the next few days pass while we barely eat or sleep. I get to a point where I almost believe we could be like this forever, and I have a hard time believing we weren’t like this before. I have a hard time believing that his lips weren’t always touching mine and I lived my life for nineteen years without my body touching his.

I don’t know what day it is when I eventually conk out into a deep sleep where my body feels heavy, like I’m sinking into a state of blissful pleasure. Then a buzzing sound wakes me. It sounds far away, but as I come to, I realize it’s not that far.

I open my eyes and momentarily forget where I am, but I see a phone buzzing on the nightstand. It’s dark, pitch black outside, and I hear Massimo inside the bathroom.

Instinct must make me reach for the phone believing it’s mine, although I haven’t slept with my phone nearby in months and the person who would have contacted me at this hour is now dead.

I’m about to put the phone back when I realize it’s Massimo’s. I almost feel afraid for him to catch me with it, but what stops me from all but throwing it far from me is the preview of the text that’s just come through.

It’s from Gabriella.

A stone drops in my stomach when I see her name, but fury flies through me when I read the preview.

My pussy misses you. Come to my place, and we can fuck for the rest of the night. I’m sure that girl can’t be pleasuring you the way I can. See you later x

That’s what the message says. This bitch knows we’ve been married for over a month and thinks it’s appropriate to message my husband this.

Under normal circumstances, I’d call her. I’d call her and tell her to delete his number and never call again. I can’t do that, though, because she must be messaging him because she thinks it’s okay.

His footsteps echo off the bathroom floor. I set the phone back down quickly, falling back onto the pillow, pretending to be asleep.

He walks in, and the phone buzzes again. This time it’s ringing, but it’s on silent. He picks it up and answers it.

“I’m on my way,” he says in a low voice, careful not to wake me. I press down hard on my back teeth to keep myself from screaming.