Arranged Mafia Marriage

Aurora

I turn on my side and try to close my eyes, but all I can see are images of the alphahole dancing with someone else. Putting his hands on her waist, pulling her close until her hips are flush with his groin, until she can feel the evidence of his arousal as he leans in close; pushing the hair off the base of her neck, and pressing his nose into the curve of her shoulder. He drags his nose up the side of her neck and bites down on her ear. She groans, throwing her head back against his shoulder. He slides his palm down the flatness of her belly toward the apex of her thighs. He grips her pussy and squeezes. She moans and turns her face toward him. Her features dissolve into mine.

I snap my eyes open. My belly trembles, my core clenches, and heat flushes my skin. I throw my cover off and sit up. “Santa Rosalia,” I snarl, “what the hell is wrong with me?” Why can’t I get the man out of my head?

The first half of the dinner, he stared at me. Then he turned away and engaged in conversation with Luca. He barely gave me a second glance. When the meal was done, he bid me a polite goodbye and followed his brothers out. I learned later that the brothers had headed out for the nearest nightclub; there was only one in town. Michael had opted to stay back with Karma. I had asked Cass why they hadn’t invited us, and she had looked at me like I was crazy.

Apparently, the Sovrano brothers wouldn’t stoop to inviting women with them when they go cavorting. Damn it. I should have followed them, stowed away in one of the cars or something. And if I had done that, no doubt, they would have discovered me right away.

I slide out of bed and use the bathroom. I get a drink of water and am about to slip into bed when something taps on the windowpane behind me. I yelp and turn toward the darkened rectangle of the window Did I imagine it? Or did something actually hit the pane? I take a step toward it when the tapping sound reaches me again. I jump, and the hair on the back of my neck rises. Who the hell could it be? I head for the windowpane, then yell when familiar features greet me.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I whisper scream.

Christian grips the windowsill outside and signals to me to open the window. My heart begins to race and my pulse slams against my temples. I grip the latch, lower it, and pull the window open. He instantly throws a leg over the sill, then the other. He straightens, tumbles into me, and we fall toward the floor. He manages to grab me and twist, and somehow, I end up falling on top of him. The breath whooshes out of him as he groans. I begin to pull away, but he grabs the back of my neck and holds me in place.

“Let me go,” I hiss.

“No fucking way,” he growls, and I wrinkle my nose.

“You’ve been drinking.”

“No shit.” He chuckles. “I had to find a way to forget about the fact that you’re in the chalet next to me, and yet I wouldn’t be able to see you.”

“Oh…” Something hot curls in my chest. “Did you miss me?”

“Like I missed a hole in the head.”

“A-n-d, there he is,” I snap. “Why did you come here anyway? Thought you’d have gone home with whomever you met at the bar.”

“The nightclub.”

“What-bloody-ever.”

“Jealous, Flower?”

“No, and don’t call me by that stupid nickname.”

“It suits you.” He hauls me close and runs his nose up the curve of my neck. Just as I’d imagined earlier in my half-asleep half-awake state, with that other woman.

I turn my head away, then dig my knee into his groin. He hisses in pain. His grasp loosens enough for me to scramble away. I jump to my feet, or try to, because he’s already thrown himself at me. He grabs my ankle and tugs.

“Let go.” I don’t bother to lower my voice. I try to kick out, and he grabs my other leg. He pries them apart, and I pant as I try to pull away. He releases my feet, but before I can scramble forward, he’s heaved his bulk up and partially onto me. I collapse to the floor, unable to move.

“What are you doing?” I hiss.Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

“Feeling up what’s mine,” he rumbles as he pushes his groin into the curve of my behind. The thick column of his arousal stabs me in the valley between my butt cheeks. My belly flutters, my core clenches, my nipples tighten, and damn him, but if I don’t get away, I’m going to push back against him and beg him to take me, and I’ll never be able to live with myself after that.

I stop struggling and force my muscles to uncoil. He plants his palms on either side of me, holding most of his weight off of me, except for his hips, which pin me down, ensuring that every inch of his throbbing length is imprinted against my panty-clad bottom. By now, the T-shirt I wore to bed is bunched up under my armpits. Supporting himself on one hand, he slides his hand under the fabric. His fingertips brush my breast, and I shiver. He closes his fingers around my flesh and squeezes. A moan spills from my lips.

“Fuck, the noises you make, Flower, they go straight to my head; you know that?”

He drags his hand down, then slides it under the waistband of my panties. He traces the valley between my butt cheeks and probes at my slippery entrance. The breath rushes out of me.

“Christian,” I groan, “don’t do this.”

“You mean this?” He scoops up some of the moisture from my cunt and drags it up and around my back hole.

I freeze, “Wh-why did you do that?”

“Why do you think?”

“Are you … you don’t mean to … do you?”

“Do what?” He probes at my puckered hole, and I huff. “Please, Christian… Please.”

“What?”

“Please don’t.”

He pauses, begins to pull away, and I turn on my back. He rises up to his feet, begins to head for the door, and something inside me seems to crack.

“Christian…”

He keeps going.

“Christian, please stop.”

He pauses, “If I stay, I won’t be responsible for what I do next.”

I swallow.

“You understand what I’m saying, Flower?”

I jerk my chin.

“You sure about this?”

I hesitate.

“If you aren’t…” He turns to leave, and this time, I jump up to my feet. I race over to him, throw my arms around his waist, and hold on.

“Don’t go, please don’t go.”

His muscles turn to stone. He lowers his chin, no doubt taking in how I’m clinging to him.

“I know it’s stupid. I know I’m the one who asked Nonna to take me under her protection, so I wouldn’t be your captive any longer. And I’m still not sure about what you want to do to me, but I don’t want you to leave right now.”

“You’re making this really difficult, you know that?”

“Yeah,” I half-laugh half-sob, “tell me about it. When it comes to you, I’m always confused about what I’m supposed to feel for you.”

“But you don’t want me to leave now?”

“I don’t.”

“Fine.” He turns, then bends his knees and haul me up and over his shoulder.

“What the-” I stutter. “What are you doing? Christian, you-” He slaps his palm across my butt, and the pain shudders up my spine.

“Hey,” I protest, “what was that for?”

He stalks over to the bed, then throws me down. I bounce once, then glance up to find him staring down at me. He throws himself down on the bed next to me before sliding up to lay back against the pillow. He taps his chest. “Come here.”

“What?”

“Come. Here,” he says in that low, hard voice which sends goose bumps rippling up my skin.

I clamber onto my front and crawl over to him. I rise up and am about to throw my leg over his waist, when he holds up a hand. “Stop,” he growls. “First, take off your panties.”

“What?” I blink.

“Don’t have all night, Flower; you in or out?”

You mean, do I want to have an orgasm or two or three and then collapse into slumber? Or do I refuse to do as he says, then toss and turn all night as I try to get myself off? When you put it that way… I slide my panties down my legs. He holds his hand out, and I hand them over.

He stuffs them inside the front pocket of his jeans, then jerks his chin.

I swing my leg up and over his chest. He grips me on either side just below my butt and hauls me up so I’m poised with my pussy bared right over his face.

He stays there, peering up at the most intimate part of me.

Heat flushes my skin, and my belly clenches. “What are you doing?”

“Admiring my pussy; do you mind?” Jesus, did he call it ‘my’ pussy? He did call it ‘my’ pussy. And by ‘my’ pussy, I don’t mean mine. I mean his. My belly trembles, and heat flushes my skin.

“As a doctor, I can tell you that my pussy is much like any other. It’s functional and fulfills the role of expelling waste matter from the body, not to mention the pivotal role it plays in child-bearing and-” I huff because he’s swiped his thick, rough tongue from my back hole to my clit. He licks me again, and heat sears my belly. He wraps that wicked tongue around my clit, and my entire body jolts.

“Christian,” I huff. “Please, please, please-”

He thrusts his tongue inside my wet, soaking channel, and I throw my head back. My thighs tremble, and my knees threaten to give way from under me. I throw out my palms and grip the headboard behind him.

He clamps his teeth over my clit and sucks on it, and I swear I see stars. A groan wheezes from me. I try to bring my thighs together, but he thrusts his face up and stabs my channel again and again with his tongue, and a trembling grips me. It sweeps up from my feet, up my legs, my thighs, and slams into my core before it sweeps up my spine.

“I’m going to come, Christian. I’m going to come,” I warble, and he pulls back. Jerk face drops his head back on the pillow, then hauls me off of him and to the side. I blink as he wipes the back of his palm across his glistening face.

“You taste sweet, Flower. Too bad I’m not going to settle for cookies when I’d rather be eating Christmas pudding.” He swings his legs over and heads for the door.

That’s when I jump up on the bed. “Where the hell are you going?” I yell. “You asshole, come back and-”

He holds a finger to his lips. “Don’t want to wake up Nonna, do you?” Pushing open the door, he leaves.