Marrying the Mob Prince

Evie

I’m grateful that my husband keeps our marriage fresh.

Dinner was at a sex club.

Black and gold dominated the dungeon-like atmosphere. Sanctum’s 1920s prohibition vibe reminded me of the snootier bars in the city where you needed a password to enter, with several glaring differences: Girls draped the leather couches in rhinestone-encrusted pantyhose. Nipple tassels dangled like ornaments. Women pleasured men on their knees, on the furniture, in rooms that echoed with high-pitched sighs, everywhere.

After all his bashing of biker culture.

Tony certainly had no problem with the models in pasties, or he wouldn’t have dragged me here. Tony stood from the table in a fluid motion. He’d slipped into a navy blazer and slacks with a patterned shirt. The dim lighting hid the details, but his debonair looks hadn’t been my imagination. I hadn’t seen him in weeks, but shock nudged my ribs at his breathtaking beauty.

He strolled toward me, somehow more gorgeous than my memories. He’d barely tamed his hair, and a cowlick curled near his temple. His shaven beard showcased the perfect anatomy given to him by his supermodel mother. Deep amber flickered in his dark eyes, the passion in them making me lightheaded.

“Evie,” he grumbled.

He drew me in a gentle embrace until one breath stopped us from kissing. Then his lips caught mine in a perfunctory kiss, a show for the bodyguard behind me.

I fell for it anyway.

He swept his arm around my back, cupping my head. His lips touched mine, soft and searching, the electricity just as strong as I remembered. The air seemed to catch fire, and I couldn’t breathe, stunned by this feather-light assault.

He pulled away before I found my feet on solid ground. He could’ve been in an elevator for all the emotion he showed, but I needed an ice bath. He gazed at me coolly, his attention narrowing on my bare thighs, my cutoffs, and the Harley-Davidson T-shirt.

“The dress code was upscale, but I slipped into something comfortable,” I quipped, all saccharine poison. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Why wouldn’t I want my wife’s ass to hang out for everyone to see?” His graveled edge barely drowned out the violent thudding of my heart. “You look like a club girl.”

“Yeah? You look like an olive oil salesman.”

“I could sell the shit out of some olive oil.”

He hooked my waist and led me away from Christian.

“What are we doing here?”

“Celebrating,” he growled, flashing me a bland smile. “It’s our one-month anniversary.”

A cloud settled over Tony’s features, and dread pitted my stomach.

“I’m not in the mood for whatever sadism you have planned.”

When we reached the table, he ripped back the chair. He pushed me down, glowering at me like I’d maxed out his credit cards on lingerie.

“What is wrong with you?”

“I’m stuck with you.” He sank into the seat beside mine. “My hands are so tied they might as well be in cuffs. So my new purpose in life…is you. My wife.”

He sounded thrilled.

Did he think I wanted him around me?

A pretty waitress in a black blouse and slacks bounced toward us. “Are we ready to order, or do we still need a few minutes?”

“The bruschetta,” he barked.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Costa, but that’s no longer on the menu.”

Tony shot her a withering look until she caved, trotting off to do his bidding. Shortly after, six pieces of toasted bread slid in front of Tony. He dug into the appetizer. He offered me some, but I shook my head.

“How can you eat the food at a sex club?”

“It’s not bad.” He motioned at the bruschetta. “That’s easily a five out of ten.”

“You’re overselling it.”

“People don’t come here for the food.”

“Why do you?”

“The prenup includes mandated dates, so I chose this place. I like the scenery.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin, shrugging. “I didn’t think you’d mind, given your background.”

Asshole. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Haven’t you seen worse?”

“We’re not a bunch of savages,” I growled, forcing my tone to remain even.

“Savage is a good word for bikers. They’re marauding, stupid, STD-swapping beasts.”

His ignorance stunned me.

“You should hear what we say about you.”

“We? Who is that?” Darkness layered his sarcasm as he gripped his butter knife. “Oh. You’re referring to the club you no longer have any ties to?”

We’d arrived, finally.

“So I went home. Big deal.”

“I was very clear. Stay away from them. That chain-linked cage is off-limits. Forever.”

My hand quivered with the need to slap him, hard.

“Fuck off, Tony.”

He shot across the table and seized my wrist, rattling the silverware. “If you want to rebel, put some posters on the wall. Wear all the low-cut shorts you like. Do not go to the clubhouse. Are you rolling your eyes at me?”

I rolled them again.

“Evie.”

“I can’t help it. You’re being paranoid and unreasonable.”

“Paranoid,” he repeated hollowly. “And unreasonable.”

My hands clenched. “Why do you have such a huge chip on your shoulder?”

Tony stilled, scowling at the tablecloth. His grip dropped from my arm, but he didn’t retreat.

“It’s more like a scar.”

I sucked in air when his thousand-yard stare scoured me.

He ripped open his collar. Then he balled my fist in his and forced me into the hot tent of his clothing. He slipped my middle finger down the back of his neck beneath his hair line. A bumpy texture pressed into my skin. It was a mean-looking cut, long and jagged, and it raised a lump in my throat.

I snatched my hand back. “Who did that to you?”

Tony slowly retied his shirt. “One of your biker buddies.”

“What’s his name?”

His lips twisted in a cynical smile. “It doesn’t matter. He’s dead.”

My stomach turned. “You killed him?”

“I wish I’d had the pleasure. Unfortunately, I was tied up with something else.”

An uncomfortable silence stretched between us. Tony blinked, and the haunted look dissipated. He pushed back his chair and stood, offering his hand.

I took it. “Where are we going?”

“To talk somewhere private.”

I followed him, my mind in tumult as he gently pulled me through rooms with scantily clad couples. We reached a dim hallway echoing with soft murmurs and harsh grunts. He grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing cocktail waitress.

Tony opened a glass door with no frame and nudged me inside.

My heart fluttered as I entered a bedroom illuminated by red lights.

“What the hell is this?”

I stared at the bondage toys affixed to the brick wall. I trembled as I took in the bed and Tony’s jacket, sliding down his muscled arms. He dropped the drink on an end table, taking an eternity to answer me.

“You know what beds are for, I’m assuming.”

“Here?” A shiver ran up my leg. “At a sex club?”

Kinky, but not the end of the world.

Movement behind him caught my eye, and I glanced at the door.

Two men stood outside.

“Holy fuck,” I shouted, grabbing Tony. “Someone’s there.”

I thought he’d yell, or at the very least, bang on the glass. Instead he turned around, smirking.

“They’re watching us.”

My mouth gaped.

“What?” I blurted, a thread of hysteria in my voice. “No. I’ve never done it before. How am I supposed to-why do we need an audience?”

His eyes were like chips of stone. It was hard to tell what he felt, if anything. “You disobeyed me.”

“So you dial it up to eleven thousand?” The pulsing knot in my throat suddenly burst. “You didn’t even warn me.”

“I don’t do half measures.”

This was too much. It was tough to take off my clothes for one stranger. The humiliation at doing it for God knows how many tore at me.

“Are you sharing me with them?”

His eyebrows jumped. He looked like he’d never heard such a ridiculous question. “I’m not like your people, Evie. I don’t share pussy.”

A sheer black fright swept through me as he slowly approached.

Did I fear him…or my desires?

“Stop.”

He did, but an eager darkness blended with his smoldering look. “You’re not going anywhere.”

A spasm of alarm erupted inside me as his words sank in, siphoning the blood from my face. The victim of his glare, I clenched my jaw. He provoked me in a way the men at home never had. He’d lured me up here.

I’d known better than to follow, and yet I had.

Curious. Terrified. Heated.

I was supposed to trust him with my body, but he’d blindsided me with this. Apprehension knotted my throat.

What would he do afterward? Was he lying about sharing me?

I didn’t want to be touched by anyone except him.

And the thought ruined me.

My calm shattered.

I lunged, ripping a crop from the wall. I held it like a baseball bat. My heart raced as he stepped forward.

“Don’t!”

Tony stared at me, eyebrow raised. “You making a move, or is this posturing?”

I swung.

Tony avoided the blow and ripped the toy from my fingers. My fist sank in his ribs, and the impact crushed my knuckles. He seized my hand in his giant palm. His touch burst everything within me. Rage. Frustration. Desire.

How much damage could he do with those hands?

How much pleasure could he give?

I wouldn’t find out the answer to either curiosity. I searched for another weapon, but nothing was in reach.

His smile shot fire down my spine. “That’s the spirit. Make me work for it.”

The bastard had no idea what he did to me or what I could do to him.

I launched at him with a roundhouse kick, the thud of my foot connecting with his abdomen like rocks on concrete. He caught my ankle, the bite of his grip deepening. I yanked my leg, but he wouldn’t let go. I hit back, my fists swinging. The first one struck his jaw with a satisfying crack.

He hissed, and the game was over.

I grappled against him as we fell to the floor, but he had at least fifty pounds of lean muscle and years of brutality. His strength was unmatched, and I was nothing beneath his monstrous hands. His thighs pinned my knees, bringing him uncomfortably close. A grin carved into his face as I aimed for his kidneys. He shoved my arms over my head. “Careful, honey. I like the struggle.”

And so did I.

Darkness replaced his smoldering look, and my memory flickered with compelling images from our wedding night. A flood of unexpected warmth heated me.

Nobody had ever dominated me.

I’d always hated how rough members were with their old ladies, Crash in particular. I swore I’d never get involved with them. Then my husband, who I despised, tossed me like a burlap sack, and I soaked through my panties.

The hypocrisy made me burn.

Heat burrowed deep into my body.

My hips twisted, and I fought myself. The instinct was there-the desire. He held me in the perfect position to bump my hips and wrap my legs around his waist.

It’d be so natural, too. The wife offering herself to her feral animal of a husband.

Too bad I didn’t have faith in traditional values.

I spat hair from my mouth. “Go to hell.”

“I’m already there, and you’re right with me.” His weight dug into my limbs, cutting off circulation. “Giving up?”

“Why are you doing this? You know it’s wrong!”

The dead-eyed stare told me he didn’t care. “Are you religious, Evie?”

The question threw me.

I stilled beneath him.

“I am,” he answered. “I believe in God and the devil. I know I’m headed straight for hell. Despite that, I can’t stop doing the things that condemn me.”

“You’ll pay for this. I can’t wait for my dad to show up. He’ll eat you alive. He’ll use your bones as a toothpick!”

“Sure he will, babe.”

Tony seized me and wrenched, forcing me onto the bed. I struggled, slammed into the mattress. I bristled as he pinned my arms.

So much for my fight. A shiver of pure excitement tore through my resistances. I tensed, but it was too late.

He saw it. He felt it.

And the same shudder of desire rolled through him.

My inflamed voice erupted to the ceiling. “First you humiliate me on our wedding night, and now you do this? You’re a fucking animal.”

“No better than a rutting dog.” He leaned in, his rough whisper brushing my ear. “But that’s what you want, isn’t it? Don’t worry. I can keep a secret. I’ll never tell a soul how badly you wanted to get fucked.”

I scrambled to push together my wild thoughts.

Then he fisted my collar and gave it a violent jerk, ripping it halfway down to split the Harley-Davidson logo in half. The white fibers broke with his brute force, falling to the floor in wide pieces.

He yanked me off the bed and shoved aside my mangled shirt. His mouth widened with a predatory smile, making my thighs clench on nothing. Then a warm shock touched my leg and glided up, cupping my ass.

He squeezed.

I bit my lip to stifle a gasp.

Shaking, I unfastened the button at my waist. There was no point in resisting. I was getting fucked one way or another, and I didn’t hate his hands on me. He knew it. So did I.

I removed his hand and kicked off the shorts. Glaring at him, I ripped off my panties.

He made a deep, appreciative sound. “Jesus, your body. It shouldn’t be allowed for one woman to be so fuckable.”

The edge in his gravel tingled me with warmth. I stared at the remains of the shirt, intimidated by Tony and what he wanted from me.

Tony’s stare heated my skin as he undid his belt. He gripped the leather like a dead snake, wrapping it around his fist with alarming swiftness.

“Have you ever given head?”

I swallowed tightly. “No.”

“How did you get this far without sucking cock?”

“When your father runs off men with a shotgun, your opportunities dwindle to the bold cashier at the Stop and Save or the fifty-year-old meth addict.”

Or the prospect with a death wish.

“I see.”

He unzipped his fly.

My lips parted, but no sound escaped. I was taken aback by his long, well-muscled legs. A pair of black briefs strained over his perfect cock. It pushed against the cotton as though fighting for release.

He tossed the belt, and then his hand slipped to my neck, which he held loosely.

“Now. Kneel.”

He pushed.

My weakened knees buckled, and I sank to the floor. I glanced at the door. A mistake, because more men crowded the door. My heart thundered, but I consoled myself with the facts. Nothing we did within the bounds of marriage was wrong.

It still felt depraved, like I was succumbing to his darkness.

Tony had positioned me in front of the ravenous men. They had a way of watching that was unfamiliar to me. I was used to the weight of lustful gazes, but not this cold curiosity.

“Open. I want you on display.”

Tony tapped my thighs, forcing me to widen them. Smiles flickered on the faces outside. Their gazes prowled up and down my body, stopping between my legs.

Oh God. I needed to hide.

My throat bobbed. “They can see me.”

“It’s a sex club, Evie.”

“I don’t want this,” I burst, my cheeks heating from the lie. “The agreement was to get me pregnant, not humiliate me in sex clubs.”

Tony walked in front me.

“Do you feel humiliated?”

I felt a lot of things-turned on, scared, heated.

Ashamed.

“Why are you doing this in front of them?”

“I don’t spare them a single glance, Evie.” His legs partially hid me from view as he approached. “I’m more interested in your reaction.”

“Shock? Disgust?”

“All of them.”

Slowly, Tony pulled down his briefs. They did not want to budge. Inches of tanned waist dipped to a trimmed Adonis belt, where his cock jutted proudly. Huge. Cut. Perfect. My fingers curved around the dense column. I gave it an experimental jerk and a bead of moisture pebbled on the massive crown.

This is so wrong.

“You like seeing me so hard for you?” His voice was crisp, and sensual. It sucked out the shame and pumped in heat. “I already know the answer, but I want to hear you admit it.”

I bit my cheek.

Of course he did.

“Still defying me,” he tutted. “Open.”

Tony’s thumb traced my mouth after I obeyed. A solid surface pressed into my lips-glass. Buttery wine flowed into my mouth.

“Try not to swallow it.”

He put the glass aside and fisted his cock.

The bulbous head stroked my cheek. He was silk stretched over steel, teasing my lips open. His thumb hooked my mouth, opening me to accommodate him. Then he rolled over my tongue. He slid inside, filling me with a hardness I barely breathed around. As he eased himself all the way, the champagne fizzed around him.

I sputtered.

I’d never done this before. He was larger and harder than I expected, and it felt awkward. I had no idea what the hell I was doing, but I enjoyed the warmth gliding over my tongue.

He uttered a soft sigh as he buried himself, and a thrill touched my pussy as though he’d fucked me there. He cupped my cheek and stroked me. His fingertips left trails of fire, and the agony lingered like one of his steamy kisses. Tony’s half-lidded gaze smoldered as his hips chased his pleasure. He groaned loudly.

I took him deeper, running along his length. I glided back and forth, flicking his tip. I felt him jerk upward, hitting the roof of my mouth. I liked this. The heady taste of him swirled around me, his length easier and easier to take. It was hot as fuck. His hand made a fist in my hair. Then his hips chased my movements. He began a slow but torturous rhythm.

I couldn’t hold him and the drink. Bubbles frothed from my mouth. Alcohol spilled on the floor, but Tony seemed to relish the sight. A wicked smile staggered across his face as I struggled to close my mouth on him. I choked. Tony didn’t let up on his ruthless strokes. He made deliciously raw, male sounds. Deep, keening grunts.

“Evie,” he groaned.

I clamped over him and sucked hard, juices running over my chin. His fingers curled into my hair before he yanked, forcing me to take him to the root. His cock hit the back of my throat.

I gagged.

“Fuck, Evie.” He pulled out, leaving his tip buried. “Christ, I just want to make you mine all night.”

I suckled the head, lashing at him, desperate for more of his moans. He rewarded me with another groan. My legs widened as I watched him succumb, his glare melting to a lust-fueled craze.

“Have you had enough?”

I took a break, gasping. “Fuck me until I pass out.”

“You should rethink those words.”

“Don’t have it in you?” I taunted, well aware I was playing with fire. “Or are you afraid you won’t last?”

He grabbed the flute. He made me drink. It was barely a swallow, and then he fucked my mouth, shoving it all out. The alcohol burned. I was a dripping mess, clinging to him. His brutal thrusts stabbed my throat. He retreated to let me breathe, and then the relentless possession began anew.

Tony cradled my face. His eyes fluttered as he fought against my gag reflex. He inched back and forth, so deep inside, I couldn’t get air. He drilled me with practiced movements until I took the lead. His thumbs stroked my cheek as I sucked and licked the giant head. He uttered small grunts that I loved.

“Suck harder,” he rasped.

I tried the best I could, knowing his climax was coming when a moan rumbled from his chest. He jerked me toward him. Liquid heat shot into my mouth, somehow also spraying my lips, my neck, and nestling into my cleavage.

His grip on my hair went slack.

His raking gaze danced over me. He gritted his teeth as spasms ripped through his thighs. He wavered on his feet. Staring at me, he wiped sweat from his brow.

Watching him try to pull it together made me hot all over.

Did he like it?

His heartbeat hammered me through his cock. He dragged me upright, breathing hard. His scowl softened when his attention drifted to the cum on my breasts. His knuckle rolled it up the slope before catching everything on my lips, and then he pushed it into my mouth.

He stepped closer, pinning me with a salacious stare. He cradled my jaw, running his thumb over my lips.

Sparks showered my cheek.

His breath misted my lips before closing the distance to lick them. Then he fused his mouth with mine. He forced his tongue inside, pushing my head to ease his invasion. The kiss sang through my veins. Wet heat mingled with mine, licking, drawing my lip into his for him to suck, weakening my knees so that I clung to him to stay upright.

I crushed into him, the space between my legs burning. We stumbled onto the bed, my back hitting the mattress.

I squirmed, fighting the shiver of wanting as he kissed the shell of my ear. His lips grazed my cheek, kissing under my jaw. It was delicious. A five-story fire stroked my body as he dipped between my breasts. My wild pulse beat into his fingers as he pressed his lips into each globe, shoving my bra aside.

I laced my fingers with the hand flattening my stomach. I squeezed hard as the slick warmth blazed down my leg, where Tony spread me wide as though-

Warm air touched my pussy.

“Oh my God, Tony.”

Then he used his mouth in a way I’d only been told about by other women. Tony’s lips and tongue teased the tight bundle of nerves between my legs. He flicked and suckled and tortured, the ecstasy of his hot, amazing lips like flashes of lightning.

A jolt hit my pussy when he kissed me. Then a wet heat delved into me. He yanked my hips so I couldn’t squirm. I grabbed his forearm in a halfhearted attempt to stop him, going slack. Tony sucked me in. He closed his eyes and licked, the unbridled joy giving me one immutable thought:

Tony Costa was put on earth to ruthlessly fuck women.

Fighting this insanely sexual man was useless. It only gave more torturous friction against his perfect mouth. I tore at the sheets since I couldn’t grab him. Ripples, waves, and then a tsunami of pleasure loomed just over the horizon. A spasm ripped up my thighs, and a cry burst from my lips.

“Please.”

He made a sympathetic sound. He circled my clit with my wetness, teasing, pinching. “Please what?”

“Please make me come.”

He slammed his fingers inside me, rewarding me with sweet, aching relief. Ecstasy blasted through my cells, and I arched into his touch. I breathed hard into the comforter as the wave crashed into my abdomen and ricocheted up, befuddling my senses. I collapsed, gripping his arm. I was barely conscious when he leaned into the bed.

He shifted his leg over mine, his cock lying on my thigh. It still throbbed as though he hadn’t emptied his balls. His hand curled around my belly, blood rushing to the spots he touched.

Tony patted me. Then he lifted me upright, and I limped to my clothes. He wordlessly handed me a Sanctum T-shirt to replace the one he’d ruined. We dressed silently. Words seemed inadequate for what had just happened.

His arm snaked my waist as we left the room, colliding with the group of voyeurs. They bantered with him. Blood pounded in my ears, drowning out their bawdy laughter.

My breathing still hadn’t caught up with my rapid pulse. Once we got in the car, I expected him to pull my head toward the bulge straining his slacks. Tony remained on his side, thumbing his cell, ignoring the sexual tension choking the air.

Even the proudest men caved to desire.

A sneaking suspicion dampened the glow from my orgasm. “Did you like it?”

“Decent first effort,” he admitted an eternity later, reading his phone. “What’s not to like about a wife in her natural position?”

“And where’s that?”

“On her knees and covered in my cum.”

He might’ve shoved me to the floor, but I’d jumped at the chance to give him pleasure, hadn’t I? I’d done it willingly, and it made his insult more grating.

“And what’s the husband’s role?” I shot back, incensed. “Acting like a bullying shit? Taunting the girl who rocked his world ten minutes ago? How many women can get you off like I did?”

A muscle flicked in his jaw. “A shocking amount.”

“Bullshit. You’d be married by now.”

That seemed to strike a nerve.

“Shut up, Evie.”

The car stopped on a cobblestone road, but I didn’t get out.

“You’re not comfortable around me, are you?” I gaped at Tony as his knuckles whitened. “That’s why you avoid me. You lose control around me, and that’s scary. Because you had a bad experience. Maybe you ignored a safe word. Took things too far-”

“You need a reality check. I was forced into this marriage, and my world does not revolve around you.” Tony leaned over me and opened the door. “Out.”

The dismissal stung more than I’d expected. A stupid part of me assumed he’d make up for his behavior. Even more mortifying, I’d hoped he’d chase me.

“I should’ve known a monster like you only responds to blood or cum.”

Color flushed his face, but his eyes were dead. The light in them had extinguished. The fire fueling his banter-that was gone, too.

Disturbing.

“Hide your eyes, darling. I can see your heart through them.” Tony lifted his head, smirking. “You will never win me over.”

I stepped onto the pavement and slammed the door.This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

My eyes welled as Tony disappeared behind the fogged glass, and then his car took off. The angry, red gleam of his taillights burned into the bleak night.

My throat tightened, but I shelved the hurt to deal with another day.

I would outmaneuver Tony.