Unholy Union

by Raines, Rumer

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You tossed and turned most of the night. I was so fucking hard this morning that it was either run or pin you down and fuck you this morning.” His look is so galvanizing it sends a tremor through me.

  “Matteo…” I step away from him.

  “Don’t tell me you don’t feel it. I know, if I touch you right now, you will be wet for me.”

  Crossing my legs, I shake my head. He inches closer and his phone rings. He glances down at it, and his eyes move back to me.

  “Are you going to answer that?”

  “It’s not more important than what is going on here.”

  A shudder passes through me. His eyes darken dangerously. His large hand takes my face and holds it gently. His mouth covers mine hungrily. His lips sear a path down my neck, my shoulders. I fall into him as my legs go weak. This feels so right, but it can’t be. Stop this now, Isabella. The touch of his lips is a delicious sensation.

  Matteo lifts me, and I wrap my legs around him as he gently eases me down onto the bed. I pull off my t-shirt and watch as he yanks down his pants. I stare at his angry looking penis as he grabs it and moves in my direction. I spread my legs and wait for my… husband.

  Wait, he is not my husband. This is a business arrangement. It’s my unholy union. I gasp as he pushes the first inch inside and pauses. His eyes meet mine, and he kisses me. He thrusts into me hard, and I nearly lose my breath. Matteo isn’t gentle with me. I don’t want gentle. He rams into me with a hard, punishing thrust. His penetration is almost too deep. He sits up and pins my legs down to go even deeper. He only turns my leg loose once, and that’s to pinch my clit. I scream, and he slams into me harder. I can’t control the outcry of delight.

  In and out… In and out… Harder and harder. I am about to pass out. A moan of ecstasy slips through my lips. I think he will stop when I finally come, but he doesn’t. I think he only gets a second wind. I can feel that he is getting close to the edge. The headboard hits the wall, and he reaches up to grab it. He’s even deeper in this position, and what feels like hours later, he finally stiffens and comes. My whole body is engulfed in tides of weariness and despair.

  I just had the best sex ever with my husband. The man that I should have never allowed to touch me. I am lying in his arms, and he won’t stop looking at me. We can’t stop looking at each other. His fingers caress my back, and I snuggle into his side.

  My head is screaming that I need to make it through the nine months, get the bank paid off, and forget about him.

  My heart is reminding me of the man that I knew before the blackmail.

  My body is screaming from the pleasure of what just happened between us.

  Matteo Stone is almost the perfect man.

  It’s up to me to remember that he isn’t my perfect man.

  Matteo

  Her eyes tell me everything she feels. This woman is beautiful on the inside and out. She is loyal, honest, and too good to be anywhere near me. Can she exist in my world? There will always be another Nikoli sniffing around. She’ll always be considered a weakness. She is the one thing that can take me down.

  Isabella is with me for one reason. I am forcing her to; we didn’t give her any other choice. I know all of this, but that didn’t stop me from fucking her. It isn’t stopping me from holding her, and it’s not going to keep me from fucking her again.

  One call is what it takes to change everything. When I finally answer, it is Paolo. There was a hit put out on my dying father. Who would try to kill a man that is already dying? I jump out of bed and tell Isabella that we must go back to Chicago… now. She doesn’t ask any questions on the way to the airport. I don’t know what I will tell her if she does ask. Having her next to me feels comforting. It almost feels like everything will be okay.

  I am with my wife. The one person that should always support me. It feels normal, which is strange because this situation is anything but normal. Why did I bring her to Italy? What was I thinking? This is too far from home. My father needs me.

  Paolo will watch over him until I get home. Paolo, who refuses to carry a gun, is protecting my father. I really fucked up this time. If I need proof that Isabella is a liability, I just got it. My father could have been killed because I am trying to keep the woman I am married to away from a man who is worse than I am. I close my eyes and lay my head against my seat. She places her hand on mine as we prepare for departure. I am not sure why, but I reposition my hand so it’s holding hers. I open my eyes to look at her, and she glances into my mine. It feels like she is staring into my black soul.

  “Everything will be fine, Matteo,” she promises.

  A quick and disturbing thought occurs; nothing will ever be fine. I am in the Mafia and will soon take over my father’s business. The minute I take over, I’ll have the world, but I’ll lose her. If I think she hates me now, wait until she finds out who she is really married to.

  When our flight finally lands in Chicago, we grab our bags and go straight to my father’s. A cold knot forms in my stomach when I see the armed guards all over the property. I can see the tension on Isabella’s face as we walk into the house. She grabs my arm and pulls me aside.

  “What kind of family emergency are you having?” she questions.

  I don’t know whether to be honest or tell her what I think she needs to hear? “Someone tried to kill my father,” I whisper.

  What the hell… I’ll try honesty. Maybe it’s the wrong choice. I watch the color drain from her face. I guess honesty only works for some people.

  “Someone tried to kill him? Why? He’s on his death bed.”

  “It doesn’t make any sense, does it? I know you probably have a lot of questions, but I need to find out from Paolo exactly what’s going on. Just wait right here.”

  Taking two steps at a time, I find Paolo sitting next to my father. He looks tired and apparently hasn’t shaved in days. I almost forget how much he looks like me when he is a little on the scruffier side. Paolo advises how someone got into the house and tried to smother him. He got here just in time. It’s no longer safe for my father to stay in this house. We can’t sit by his bed twenty-four hours a day. We also don’t trust anyone else to do it.

  We agree that Paolo will transport him to someplace safe. He’ll take two weeks off at the hospital and make sure he’s all settled before coming back. I’ll call in a few favors, and he’ll be moved tonight. It’s a little difficult since no one can know he’s on his death bed, but I do have a few friends that owe me who I know I can trust. A few hours later, all the arrangements have been made.

  It’s bittersweet to watch him being wheeled out of the house. Isabella stands next to me, holding my hand. I am in a bad mood when Isabella and I get home. My anger finally starts to boil over as I think about someone trying to end my father’s life. What is worse is they got away. Paolo fought them off, but they managed to get out of the house.

  “Do you know who tried to hurt him?” she asks.

  “No one tried to hurt him. They tried to kill him,” I spit out.

  “Why?”

  “Why the hell do you think?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. That’s why I am asking,” she whispers.

  “Are you really this naïve? Why do you think someone would want him dead? My father is worth millions, and I will be inheriting everything. It would only make sense to take him out before I take over.”

  I don’t mean to be this brutally honest with her. I just don’t have the patience to handle her with care. We both turn when we hear the door open, and I reach for my gun. Sarah used her key and glances between me and Isabella. Her mood veers sharply to anger. She kicks over Isabella’s floral suitcase and walks over to give me a kiss.

  “I have missed you. How long have you been home?” Her lips thin with anger.

  Glancing at Isabella, I wonder if I should answer. I glower at her and turn away. I ignored her calls the entire time we were on our honeymoon. I am not going to start answe
ring to her now.

  “I have a few calls to make,” I reply sharply.

  I almost feel guilty for leaving them alone.

  Isabella

  I can see the disgust on her face when she looks at me.

  “He didn’t answer. When did you get home, and how was your little trip?” she asks.

  I can either ignore the question or answer it. I’ll admit it will feel good to stick it to her. “We were on our honeymoon.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Our honeymoon. You know, when two people get married, they go someplace alone to have lots of sex.”

  “I know exactly what a honeymoon is, bitch. I guess I need to remind you that Matteo is mine.”

  “Maybe you should remind him of that.” I spit out the words contemptuously.

  I don’t know why, but I suddenly feel bold. Sarah may be the woman in his life, but I am Mrs. Matteo Stone. I think that counts as something. It did in Italy when he was staring into my eyes while screwing me senseless. They need me just as much as I need them.

  “Do you need to be reminded of who you are talking to? With one call, I can have your ass in jail,” she threatens.

  “Go ahead. I dare you. If I go to jail, Matteo will get nothing.” I throw the words at her like stones.

  Sarah laughs. Is this the time I should panic? A few seconds later, Matteo returns. She pulls him by the collar and asks to speak to him in private. He nods and they walk outside, most likely so I can’t overhear their conversation.

  When he returns, he appears to be more agitated than he was earlier. I order a pizza and a pay-per-view movie. I am surprised when he watches it with me. We snuggle on the couch and, eventually, one thing leads to another and we start to kiss. His hand caresses my breast, and I unbutton his shirt. Matteo climbs on top of me and the phone rings.

  He closes his eyes and whispers that it’s Paolo. They talk for five minutes before he tells me he has to go to his office. Paolo needs paperwork faxed. He gives me one last kiss before he leaves. After Matteo locks up, I get comfortable alone on the couch. My heart breaks a little when I realize that I miss my husband. Shit. I can’t let the lines get blurred in this phony marriage. I am playing with fire. I just hope I don’t get burned.

  Tightening my sweater, I stare out the window, realizing how my life has changed. I didn’t expect to still be in this house. I have officially been Mrs. Matteo Stone for six months. Matteo and I have gotten closer. It actually feels like a real marriage. If I didn’t know the truth, I would think the universe sent me the man I have dreamed about.

  After giving Brutus a bottle of water, I head to the bedroom to paint my toenails. I could get a pedicure, but I like to do it myself. Besides, it will keep me awake until he comes home. He works a lot of hours, but I always wait for him to get home. When we were first married, he didn’t come home until two or three in the morning. Once he realized that I would wait up for him, he began getting home by midnight.

  This is always my favorite time with him. His guard is always down, and he is the man I first fell for. I talk about my life before becoming Mrs. Stone, and he talks about how he plans on changing Chicago. Matteo really has a passion for the inner city. He plans on opening restaurants and gyms in the communities that need them. I don’t know when it happened, but I am starting to fall madly in love with my husband.

  We have a date night once a week. Every date ends with us both naked and my legs draped across his shoulders. We have an incredible sex life. I keep forgetting that I am being forced to stay in this marriage. Is it still forced? I don’t know what I’ll do when it’s over.

  Despite the feelings that I have for Matteo, I don’t know if I can deal with his world. I have tried to keep my eyes closed to what is happening around me, but they are now wide open. There are things you just can’t forget, no matter how hard you try. Trust me… I wish I could erase what I have seen and felt.

  One night, while I’m waiting up for him, the truth hits me had. He is one hour late. He is always home by twelve. A car door slams and I decide I will meet him at the door. As I’m pulling the door open, it’s shoved. A masked man knocks me to the ground and climbs on top of me. His knee is across my throat, and there is something cold and hard against my temple.

  “Where the fuck is he?” he yells.

  “He’s not home!” I cry.

  “Where the hell is old man Stone?”

  “I don’t know!”

  He moves his thigh so that it’s between mine and forces my legs open. He’s too heavy for me to push off. My heart is racing when I realize what is about to happen to me. He licks my neck and laughs until he is suddenly pulled from me. Between wiping away my tears and his sticky saliva, I manage to crawl away toward the wall. I hear scuffling and grunting as they fight.

  Wiping the tears from my eyes, I see Matteo sitting on top of the man. He has his hands wrapped around his throat, and he’s choking him. He turns toward me when I gasp, which gives the man the second he needs. He pushes Matteo off and runs out the door as Matteo follows. A few minutes later, Matteo rushes back inside the house to check on me. He inspects every inch of me, looking for bruises.

  “Did he hurt you?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  “He’ll wish he never touched you.”

  “I’m fine, Matteo. You got here in time,” I whisper, holding on to him.

  “No, I didn’t. I was late. He should have never gotten inside this house. I don’t know how he got past the alarm?”

  “I opened the door.” I cringe.

  His eyes narrow, and I can see he is angry.

  “I thought it was you,” I whisper.

  “Baby, you have to check before you just open the door.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  “He was looking for your father,” I tell him.

  Throwing his hands up, he sighs. “Bastards won’t give up.”

  Three more months and Matteo will inherit the family business.

  I can see it in his eyes that he’s counting down the time until his father is no longer in danger. I wonder if he realizes, in that same time, he’ll no longer need a wife? Maybe he has realized that he no longer wants one?

  Matteo

  Sarah barges into my office wanting to talk. I have been holding her off for months. My relationship with Isabella has changed. This marriage has become real… too damn real. Despite keeping Sarah safely tucked away until I need her, I can’t touch her. I can’t justify going home to Isabella with another woman’s scent on me. I don’t want to hurt her. What is worse is I can’t hurt her.

  I watch the clock as Sarah goes on and on about my betrayal. She can see it in my eyes. I watch her mouth move but don’t hear a word she says. I have more important shit to think about. Isabella is home waiting for me. I am late; I always get home by midnight. It’s our time together, and it’s important to me. When I finally get Sarah to leave, I rush home. I drive like a maniac to get home to her. Something is wrong… I can feel it. The door is unlocked. I push it open and peek inside.

  I am going to kill him. His hands are on my wife. He is lying on top of her with a gun to her head. I pull him off and choke him until I hear her gasp. Taking my eyes off him for a second, he gets away. His life was saved tonight, but he will be dead in twenty-four hours.

  The Rossi family have been bold when questioning my father’s whereabouts. I have spent plenty of time with the family. One of their hitmen has a cross tattooed on his hand. I notice it right away when I pull him off of Isabella. He just as well could have had his damn name and address inked on.

  When he runs off like a bitch, I rush back to Isabella and carry her to the kitchen. Placing her on the counter, I look over every inch of her. If he hurt her at all, he will hurt three times worse before he dies. She says they are looking for my father. They won’t stop until they find him. They need to get rid of him before I officially take over. It’s almost as if they can smell that changes
are about to happen.

  Pouring us each a glass of wine, I stare at her. It pisses me off that I wasn’t here for her. I should have gotten Sarah out a lot faster than I did. I ruined the start of the night, but I am going to take care of her for the rest of it. I can see the trust in her eyes as I pull her to the edge of the counter. My hands explore the hollows of her back. Lifting her t-shirt, I spread her legs and kiss between her thighs. She moans as I push her panties aside and lick between her folds. Tugging on her clit, I eat her pussy and can’t get enough of her. I need to make us both forget. Isabella is the sweetest honey that I have ever tasted.

  My zipper strains against my bulge. My erection grows harder and larger. Moving her legs over my shoulders, I shove down my pants and pull her closer. I feel like, if I don’t get inside her, I’ll fucking explode. She screams when I thrust my cock into her. Grabbing her by the waist, I hammer into her. She lies on the counter panting, her chest heaving. She writhes beneath me, eager to touch me. I pin her arms above her head as I slam into her. I don’t think I am going to last long. She feels too good, and I am fucking out my frustrations. I pull out just in time and come on her stomach.

  Why do I feel like I just marked her as mine? I don’t know if three months is long enough to keep her. How did I think I would be able to walk away from her? She is my weakness, and I can’t have a fucking weakness. Her eyes stare into mine, and my heart breaks. I don’t think I’ll be able to do this. She’ll only be mine for three more months…

  Here is the thing. I know she is too good for me. She is in danger every minute that she spends with me. It’s best if I treat her like a business deal and move the fuck on. I can’t let emotions get involved. I can’t allow myself to feel shit that I shouldn’t. In the end, I’ll have to walk away from her, kick her to the curb, and just move the hell on with my life. I should be enjoying this moment with her and not thinking about what is going to happen. Live life for this moment and not tomorrow, and especially not three months from now. Her legs are still open to me, and this is where my mind goes? Pulling my pants up, I inch away from her. She can see it in my eyes, and I see it in hers.