Arranged Mafia Marriage

Theresa

I stand under the shower, let the hot water flow over my shoulders, my back, and down my legs. I raise my head to the spray and revel in the steam and warmth that envelops me. The talk with the women had both reassured and unsettled me.

At least, Karma is taking care of my dress. And Cass has assured me that I need not worry about the wedding arrangements. She said she and Nonna will handle that. Of course, I had a clear vision about the flower arrangements and Elsa helped to bring that to life. She also promised to make arrangements with a friend of hers who runs a macaroonerie-yes, that’s, apparently, a thing, a shop specializing in macaroons. Which means, all I have to do is turn up in a few days.

Cass says the venue will be the family church in Palermo, which I had already anticipated. The Sovranos are sticklers for tradition, except apparently, when it comes to planning weddings, when they are happy to get married with extremely short timelines. Where other brides need months, and sometimes years, to plan their weddings, the Sovrano brides have to make do with days to plan everything. I remind myself that this is my fault.

At least, I have a week. And I could have had a month if I hadn’t opened my big mouth. Either way, that’s generous compared to Karma and Aurora, who were both married within 48 hours. The Sovranos have enough clout that getting a marriage license on such short notice is no big deal. So, the marriage preparations are all in hand.

It’s really what Karma had hinted at later that makes me uncomfortable. Will Axel really be upset that I asked him to marry me in front of his brothers? Is that an affront to his ego, as Karma had warned? Will he try to get back at me for it? If so, what will he do? And since I am living under the same roof as him, is that even advisable?

He won’t kill me-nah, as Karma pointed out, bodily harm is not in the mix, but it’s the other stuff he can do to me that worries me- how he can make me melt with a glance, how he can touch me and I’ll feel it all the way to my toes, how he’ll glare at me and a shiver runs down my spine, how he’ll lower his voice to a hush and something inside me insists I obey him. Damn it. Basically, I’m putty in his hands. I don’t stand a chance against him. So how the hell am I going to survive being married to him? Again, what the hell had I been thinking when I had flung the proposal at him, and in front of everyone else?

I groan and lean my forehead against the wall of the shower. Clearly, I have a death wish. It’s why I had challenged his ego. Of course, he’s going to be miffed. But is Karma right? Is he going to take revenge for what I did? I know I left him with little choice but to agree to my proposal. It’s why I had raised it in front of everyone.

No, I hadn’t planned it-not consciously-but my subconscious is way ahead of me at the moment. He’s recovering so much more quickly than anyone expected. And no way, could I let him go after he recovers. I needed to find a way to tie him to me, to buy some time while I figure out how to win him over. No, I had done the right thing. Too bad, if his ego is hurt. He’ll just have to deal with it. And if he decides to take it out on me… Well, I’ll just have to deal with it. I’ll need to plow through the next few days, until I get to the wedding. Once we are married, I’ll have to find a way to get into his good books, if that’s even possible. I straighten, then wash the shampoo from my hair. I switch off the shower and turn, then scream.

“What the h…hell, what are you doing here?”

He simply watches me from under his thick eyelashes. Those blue eyes of his seem to glow with an inner fire. He’s wearing a short-sleeved, white T-shirt which clings to his shoulders. I can’t help but take in the patchwork of scars and tattoos on his right forearm. I lower my gaze to where the material of the jeans molds to those powerful thighs. Jesus, whatever his profession was, it definitely involved a lot of physical activity. What did he do anyway? Is he a part of some other rival gang? Is he a mercenary? An assassin, maybe? Not sure why, but something in the way he’s always on alert, the way he had come awake from the coma, only to jump out of bed and take on the man who had attacked me in his room… I am still not over it. That kind of strength means he’s had special training, but where? With whom?

“What’s going on in that mind of yours?” he rumbles.

“N…nothing.” I straighten my spine. I am not going to hide. This is my bathroom, damn it. He is the one who’s intruding, not me. Besides, I had made the first move, surprising him with the proposal, and now I need to face whatever the repercussions from it are.

I step out of the shower stall completely naked. He rakes his gaze down my chest pausing on my breasts for a few seconds before he continues his visual journey over my stomach and down to my pussy.

My thighs clench and I resist the urge to cross my legs. Instead, I prop my hand on my waist and tip up my chin. “See something you like?” I attempt for a casual tone, but my voice comes out in the form of a squeak.

He doesn’t reply. Rather, he takes his time with a leisurely perusal as he drags his gaze back to my chest. My nipples bead and my breasts hurt. Damn it, if only he’d close the distance between us and crush me to the hard planes of his chest.

By the time he raises his gaze to my face, I am flushed.

“Well?” I demand, “I asked you a question.”

“You’re not my type, but I’ll shag you on our wedding night.”

My jaw drops. “What the hell?” I snap. “Do you have to be so uncouth?”

“Would you expect anything else from me?”

“I am not sure what to expect from you, to be honest.” I raise a hand, then let it drop.

“I gotta admit, I didn’t expect you to propose to me either,” he murmurs.Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

“And yet, you agreed?” I fold my arms around my waist and his gaze, once more, lowers to my chest. I resist the urge to look down, knowing my stance must lift my boobs and make them pop out a bit further.

“You knew I didn’t have a choice.” He takes a step forward. I flinch. Don’t sidle back; don’t allow him to find out how nervous you are around him right now. I dig my bare feet into the floor and hold my position.

He arches an eyebrow, then closes the distance until he’s right in front of me. The heat from his body pours over me; the scent of him surrounds me. His blue eyes bore into me and my breath catches.

“I am not scared of you,” I declare.

His lips twitch, “You should be.” He drags his finger down the curve of my breast and a moan wells up my throat. I bite down on my lower lip as he draws a circle around my nipple. I feel the touch all the way to my core. My toes curl and a shiver runs down my spine.

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

“Checking out my merchandise.”

Anger suffuses my veins. I lift my hand, but he’s too fast. He grabs my wrist; the next second, he’s turned me around with my arm behind my back, so I am facing the mirror. He hauls me to him, throws his other arm around my waist, and holds me immobile.

“Let go of me,” I gasp.

“Why should I?” He slides his palm between my legs and cups my pussy, “After all, you are going to become my wife.”

“I am not yet your wife,” I remind him.

“Semantics,” he drawls. “You opened the floodgates; now you have to deal with the aftermath.”

“You could have refused, you know,” I say in a tight voice. “It was a stupid suggestion on my part, said in a moment of craziness. You needn’t have played along.”

“Oh, now she admits that it was a mistake.”

“I never said that it was a mistake,” I retort.

“And I never back down from a challenge.” He slides his finger inside my channel and I draw in a breath.

“You’re fucking soaked,” he growls. “Does it turn you on when I am rough with you, Sunshine.”

Yes.

Yes.

“No,” I snap, “of course, not.”

“Your body says otherwise,” He slides another finger inside my pussy. He adds a third, then begins to weave them in and out of my sopping wet channel. The slurping noises that my flesh makes as he thrusts his fingers in and out of me fills the space.

My cheeks heat. “Let go of me.” I wriggle my hips, but his hold on my arm tightens. He pulls me even closer and the ridge of his arousal stabs into the valley between my butt cheeks. I freeze and a laugh rumbles up his chest.

“A little late to be playing the scared damsel, don’t you think?” He grinds the heel of his palm on my clit and a shudder grips me. He continues to thrust his fingers in and out of me, in and out. He curves his fingers inside and a moan bleeds from my lips. “That’s it,” he murmurs, “let go of all your inhibitions, Sunshine. There won’t be any place for being shy in our marriage.”

Marriage? Hell. I am sure I am going to regret what I said for every moment of my life.

I open my mouth to protest, but that’s when he releases my arm. He brings his hand up and around to pinch my nipple. My entire body jolts. “Ohmygod,” I moan, as he continues to strum my nipple. He moves his hand to the other breast, tugs on the other nipple. My head falls back against his chest. I bring my arm up and around his neck, then thrust out my breasts, as he adds a fourth finger inside me, filling me, stretching me. He continues to weave his fingers in and out of me, as I wrap my other arm around his waist. His muscles undulate under his skin as he lowers his mouth to where my neck meets my shoulder. He sinks his teeth into my skin, and I yell. I rise up to my tiptoes, as he lowers his other hand to my pussy.

“Come for me, Sunshine, come all over my fingers.” He pinches my clit and I explode. The orgasm crashes over me and I scream. Moisture coats the space between my legs; sweat beads my forehead. He pulls his fingers out of my pussy and thrusts them into my mouth. The taste of my arousal fills my palate, mixed with the salty taste of his skin. I lick my tongue across his fingers, and his chest muscles contract.

I open my eyes to find his features flushed. His nostrils flare. “I don’t know whether to fuck you or punish you for what you did,” he growls.

“Why not do both?”

He blinks, then a chuckle rumbles up his chest, “You have spirit. That’s good; you’re going to need it for what’s in store for you once we’re married.”

He releases me so suddenly that I stumble.

Turning, he stalks toward the door of the bathroom.

“Wait, what did you mean by that?” I take a step in his direction when he comes to a stop.

He glances at me over his shoulder, “Why are you so impatient? Why don’t you wait until we are married? You’re bound to find out.”

I scowl back, “I told you, you don’t scare me.”

“Good, that means I don’t intend to hold back on my perversions.”