Marcus: A Mafia Bad Boy Romance

by Adams, Evie

  I did pay and overpay for the records because I figured she would like them. Sal and the boys thought it was weak of me too, but I had to pay for them, because I knew she would refuse stolen ones. I hate how good she is at putting me in awkward situations and making me explain. I hate this weak willed person I come to be around her. Well, that ends tonight.

  I would go back inside right now and show her she is mine, and have her enjoy the hell out me fucking her, anything to stop this feeling of weakness. When I’m fucking her, I’ll feel strong again.

  But now, I had promised to introduce her to my father. That should be uneventful, but I found myself worrying what they would say to each other, if they would like each other.

  The lake was frozen in the moonlight, silvery ripples broke up the mirror surface. I thought of going fishing, maybe with her. Fish or fuck, one or the other. She may even ruin fishing for me. Fishing was like meditation, nothing could follow you out there, you concentrated on what was in front of you, what was in front of you was the only thing in the world.

  Maybe tomorrow, after I had her tonight.

  I poked my head back in the cabin, she sat with the records arrayed around her. “Well, as long as the moment is ruined, how about we go visit my father?” I asked. She got up silently and followed me.

  We walked up to the main cabin, a mansion really, not a cabin, a compound. The living room had floor to ceiling windows and looked out over the lake. The room my father was in was just to the left of it and had a big bay window instead of floor to ceiling, but let an amazing amount of light in and had a beautiful view of the lake and the mountains. The place was quiet, somber, and the priest was in the room with the old man, I saw her pause at the priest, a priest next to the bed of an old man in poor health is never a good sight, but I pulled her along, and the priest got up to leave when the old man saw us and motioned us in.

  “Teasing the poor father again?” I asked.

  “My only pleasure these days. They keep everyone away from me because I need quiet and rest but I feel like I’m already dead with all the quiet and rest around here.” He said warmly, and looked at Anna beside me.

  “This is my friend, Anna. She'll be happy to scream at me if you want.”

  “Anna. Lovely Anna.” He raised his hand to shake hers and spoke to me, “Even if they're screaming at you, at least they're talking. Even if they're laughing at you, they're still laughing.” He turned back to Anna, “So what do you do Anna?”

  “I'm a political fundraiser. I worked on Michael’s campaign.”

  “Ah, beautiful and smart. You don't belong here any more than Marcus does do you? Why are you here with us?”

  She looked at me, and I gave her the look to shut her mouth, “I don't know,” she said and it sounded like she meant it.

  “Well, at least she's honest. When I ask you that Marcus, you have no answer either, but you pretend to have one. Family. Loyalty. Bullshit.”

  “Dad, maybe now's not the right time for this.”

  “I don't know how much time I have left. So I don't care about any of that. If now's not the right time who cares? There may never be a right one. One more thing on the bucket list was me confessing why your mother and me split up. I love having you here, but it breaks my heart at the same time. Your mother and I loved each other, very much. But we agreed when you and Michael were very young, that I couldn't leave this life, and growing up in this life would trap you kids, and her. But if she left at least you two would have options. Wouldn't be trapped. So we agreed she would leave and take you with her.”

  “I know all of this. Mother got it off her bucket list before you did, and we've been over it too. I had options and I know the other life that you never did. It's just as corrupt, believe me.”

  He talked to Anna, leaned in close, like they were conspiring against me, “You see? Stubborn. Won't listen to his father. Yells at a dying man. Go scream at him or laugh at him, or give me a grandchild.”

  He leaned back on the bed, we were tiring him out, it seemed. We said our goodbyes, and he made Anna promise to visit him again, to conspire against me no doubt.

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  CHAPTER 11

  When we were back in the cabin, it was time for me to find some things out. Maybe it wasn’t wise to poke a snake as he was getting meaner, but it was past time I had some answers.

  “Why am I here Marcus?”

  “You’re here because I want you here, that’s all.” He dismissed it, without even looking at me.

  “Your father seems to think I’m your girlfriend or wife or something, I didn’t correct him tonight, but soon I’ll have to.”

  “Disturb an old dying man’s last wishes if you want, that’s on you not me. But he won’t care. He plays the kind old man now, but he is ruthless, he had to be to get where he is. He takes what he wants when he wants, and deals with the repercussions later. He never explains himself. And it’s time I start taking more lessons from him. Take off your clothes.”

  “No.”

  “There's that word again.” He pulled me to the bed and unwrapped the dress I had on, pinning me down.

  “You promised.”

  “I promised you would want it as much as I did. And I think you do. But I'll hear you say it first. Out loud.” I thought he was going to take me right there, but he pushed me off him, and leaned over me, “Now I want to see your naked body, and we had no deal about that.”

  I struggled and tried to push him off, but he was too strong. He kissed the side of my neck, pulled the shirt aside for my breasts to tumble out. “Is this how you imagined it,” he whispered in my ear as his mouth went lower, “Is this what you dreamed about this afternoon?”

  “No,” I told him, but weakly, it was a lie because this is exactly what I had imagined before I fell asleep. I enjoyed the kiss, the holding my arms above my head, the tingling from my belly, and the scratchy stubble on his face, then his silky soft lips tracing down my body. When he moved his hand down over my breast just before his mouth got there, and then his hand moved ahead, down to my upper thigh, I didn't have any struggle left. I wanted him, or at least my body did.

  His finger resting gently on my clit and making a slow circle, with slight, even pressure, and his tongue making the same circles around my nipples, I thought I was going to lose my mind.

  He came up and kissed me, penetrating my mouth with his tongue, searching, and I kissed him back. His finger stopped the circling motion and went north and south now, a little further south each time, just above the slit.

  His mouth broke free from mine, and he stared into my eyes as he talked, but never stopping with his finger rocking up and down, “I want you. Do you want me to stop?”

  It was cruel, the cruelest thing he had done so far. I didn’t answer, and he kept on asking, and rubbing. Finally, I said, “No.”

  “Tell me you want me,” he persisted, his eyes still focused on me, and his finger rocking up and down, with just a little more pressure. His cock was against my thigh, through his pants, and I couldn't pretend to resist anymore.

  “I want you, just fuck me and shut the hell up.” I said finally. “Please,” I whispered as he reached a hand down to spread my swollen lips.

  He moved away from me, down. I waited, listening to him breathe, his chest rising and falling far too fast, just like mine, his whole body tense, I waited for him to refuse me, some other cruel torment, when he got what he wanted, my admission, to throw it in my face.

  Instead, he gave a low, animal growl, wrapping his arms around my hips and pulling me into his mouth. His mouth and tongue were on fire between my legs, and so was I. My hands searched for something to hold onto, to not go spinning into orbit, they balled up the sheets in my fists, as I lost myself in the sensations. He attacked my flesh, in control of me, punishing me with his tongue, licking and sucking my pussy, lapping at my slit, burying his whole face against me, making me burn with pleasure.

  He stayed on my clit, in no hu
rry whatsoever, unlike most men, he had all the time in the world it seemed, sucking it first between his lips and then lashing it back and forth with his tongue. I felt my thighs tense and begin to tremble, my hips wanting to buck, to force him closer, but his thick arms had my hips in place, I could struggle as much as I wanted, they would not move in his arms. That freed me, I let myself loose, not careful, not waiting, just there and enjoying him, not being pushed to orgasm or to scream and shriek, we had all the time in the world his tongue told me.

  He held me in place against his face, his biceps were flexed, hard against my thighs. He gave a low moan, the sensation vibrating through my clit, and then redoubled his efforts. I heard him swallowing my juices, his breath coming almost as fast as mine. He made rough animal noises against my pussy, deep from his throat and chest. I wanted to do this forever, to feel his lust between my legs, his dark anger coming out between my thighs, the hunger in his eyes translated to his tongue.

  My god, when I closed my eyes, I saw him coming out of the water, his muscles glistening, the wolfish grin on his face, I was going to come. There was no stopping it.

  “Oh, Marcus,” I warned, him, barely a whisper, but he heard, he knew, he focused right on my clit, that tiny bit of flesh making my whole body shudder with anticipation. My hands were on his head, swirling his hair in my fingers, as his tongue lashed my clit.

  I screamed when he let go of my hips, letting me buck and writhe, so he could slide two fingers deep into my pussy. My muscles clamped down immediately and I rode his hand, his mouth mashing my clit as I came.

  I didn’t have time to breathe or think or even move. He rolled me over in an instant, kissing my pussy like a mouth and then moving up to kiss my mouth, letting me taste myself. I licked at his lips and sucked his tongue and felt him parting my slim thighs with his knee, forcing them open. Reaching, I grabbed hold of his cock, pulling it in to me, feeling it jump in my hands, a low groan escaped his mouth.

  I wanted him so much I was dizzy with desire. I slid my hands up his biceps, over his shoulders, he seemed to hesitate over me, as if my admissions so far weren’t enough. He smiled, and held his body over me, I tried to pull him down, I wished he would put his weight on me, put himself inside me, but he waited for me to ask one more time.

  “Fuck me, Marcus, please,” I begged, sliding a hand behind his neck and pulling his mouth to mine, he relented. I felt his body giving in as I drew his tongue in deeper, wiggling my hips up, the tip of his cock teased my clit, sliding up and down my wet slit, but still not in.

  He had won, but winning wasn’t enough, he wanted total victory. Scorched earth, and if he made me hold out any longer there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t agree to. I wanted to slap him or punch him or kiss him, but more than anything I wanted him to fuck me until I couldn’t think straight.

  He must have seen something in my eyes, he finally dropped his face down and gave me a fierce kiss, full of everything we had been feeling and keeping in for so long. If I could have devoured him, I would have.

  I struggled under his weight, but it was perfect, his weight forcing me into the mattress, his arms squeezing me, I wrapped my legs around his waist, squeezing him between my thighs, squeezing him closer, rocking the hard length of his cock between my thighs. His cock found its way into my swollen wetness without any help, and I cried out when he entered me, my nails digging into his shoulders as I pulled him in as deeply as I could, my legs wrapped around him and my arms pulling him closer. I wanted to linger here, him deep inside me, buried in me, and my face buried against his neck.

  “Anna,” he said, into my ear, pressed against his face, “You feel so fucking good,”

  I actually felt tears stinging my eyes, realizing how much I wanted this. I kissed his cheek, his chin, the corner of his trembling mouth, “Please,” I whispered.

  He began to move, his cock a swollen, driving heat between my thighs. His breath was hot against my cheek and I slid my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deeper. He wrapped himself around me as we rocked together, all of his weight on me, and I wished there was more, the mattress springs squeaking fast and hard, our breath coming in hot, short bursts.

  All I could focus on was the heat of his body in mine, and the sensations building inside me, not another thought went through my mind except for fire. I let myself go, clawing at him, biting him, moaning in pleasure.

  “Fuck me,” I panted, the heels of my feet digging into his thighs, my hands around his shoulders, and his rock hard stomach slapping against mine, “Oh god, yes! Fuck me!”

  Marcus grunted and gave me more, his thrusting sped up, and my hips rolled towards his, making me scream with every deep thrust. His cock felt even more swollen somehow, filling me completely. The heat of my skin on his seemed to reflect it back inside deep in me, I was on fire and it was going to erupt out of me.

  I felt him tense, the hard, flat expanse of his belly slapping against mine, his shoulders rippling, and his breathing even faster and shorter, “I’m going to come,” I whispered into his ear, feeling my pussy quiver around the pounding heat of his cock. “It’s so close. I can feel it.”

  He groaned and thrust deeper, slower, he was waiting for me, but I felt him about to come too. He let his weight back down on me and spread my thighs even wider with his hips, rolling me under him. He cried out, “Anna”, as he buried his face against my neck. I felt every pulse of his cock as he filled me with the white hot spurts of his release.

  “Almost there,” I whimpered, rolling my hips, and he moaned loudly and held me to him, as I came, trembling, grinding, as my climax came in just behind his, my pussy milking his cock, I threw my head back and let myself go, quivering beneath him, barely able to breathe, taking all of his weight and still wanting more. Struggling against his arms and shaking, shaking with pleasure.

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  CHAPTER 12

  I woke up in an empty bed and didn't quite know how to feel about that. I hated him on the surface, I hated him with my intellect, but my body betrayed me. My body wanted him, my eyes loved taking him in, even when he was being an asshole. My ears loved the sound of his voice, even when I hated the words, my fingers loved tracing the hard lines of muscle on his body, and even the softness of his round shoulders, my fingers and the rest of my body never found anything wrong with him. I hated how he made me feel this way, fighting myself. I hated him and I would fight him off whatever chance I got, but I also knew my body would betray the rest of me and it would want him.

  I got off the bed and decided to clean to distract my mind from thinking in circles. I had the music turned up as I cleaned up the place. I thought of maybe cleaning it, then making a mess to keep Appy occupied in case she came over, anything to not have to scream that book in her ear again. I didn't even notice the door opening and someone coming in. There was movement behind me somehow, a shadow moving, and turned around to see Sal standing behind me. I could see him more clearly this time than when he met us after bathing. He looked like a boyish version of Marcus. Same hair and eyes, but about 6 inches shorter, much thinner, and almost frail. He was carrying a banjo and envelope and looked completely ridiculous.

  I went to turn off the music so we didn't have to stare at each other.

  “Is Marcus here?” he asked, a silly question because where could he hide in a single room?

  “No.”

  “Where is he?”

  “I have no idea,” I told him, honestly.

  “How do you like it here?”

  “It has its benefits,” I said. Something about his questions made me want to watch my answers around him. There was something strange, unsettling about him.

  “How long are you staying?’

  “That’s up to Marcus I guess.”

  Marcus came in, and interrupted this awkward talk, thankfully. Sal sat down on the couch and Marcus went to sit next to him, I pretended to clean. Sal handed Marcus the envelope, “A taste of what we sold the instruments for. Sin
ce you're the new boss”

  Marcus took it, ruffled through the notes with his fingers and said, “Why don't you split it among the boys?” And held it out for Sal to take, before snatching it back out of his reach, “Better yet, I'll lose it to them in poker, still on for tonight?”

  He was clearly disappointed at not getting the envelope back, his eyes turning dark. “Whatever you say, boss.” Sal tuned to me, “Do you play poker Anna?”

  “Once or twice,” I answered coyly.

  Marcus looked at me annoyed.

  “Well, we'll go easy on you, please come.”

  “We'll see,” Marcus cut him off. “What's that?” He asked, pointing at the banjo.

  “This nobody wanted, so I figured maybe you can use it.”