by Sam Crescent
“Why don’t you go see him?” Roman encouraged. Eve gave his hand a squeeze, then ran up to the nurses to catch her father.
Roman was surprised Maria Russo lingered behind. He would’ve thought she would want to be by her husband’s side. Roman could only guess she had a few words to trade to him.
“You’re good for her. I’ve never seen Eve this content or happy. I have to admit, when Franco mentioned marrying her off to you, I was skeptical. Petrified for her.” Maria bit her lip, a habit her daughter inherited. “No offense.”
“Any good mother would be worried to marry her daughter to a man like me,” Roman said, flashing her his teeth.
Roman knew who he was. He wasn’t a good man, and he was comfortable in his own skin. He lived and breathed violence. By most people’s standards, Roman was an unrepentant criminal, a monster, but Eve never cared about those things. His wife somehow managed to see the good parts in him, despite all the taint and corruption. Roman thought he’d be marrying a pawn. He got a queen in return.
“When we lost Lucille, I became inconsolable. It was only later I remembered I still had another daughter. Eve and I were never close. I never understood her, but I do care about her.” Maria paused, then put a hand on his shoulder. “If someone else was her husband, Eve wouldn’t be alive today. Neither would I.”
Roman had attended several Russo Family events since marrying Eve. Maria had always been aloof to him. Indifferent. This felt like acceptance, although he wasn’t really looking for it. He lived by his own set of rules and didn’t care what anyone thought. It felt damn good.
“Always take care of my little girl?” Maria asked him. “If there’s anyone in this world who can keep her safe and happy, it’s you.”
“I will,” he promised. Today, an assassin had gotten frighteningly close to Eve. Roman swore nothing like that would ever occur again. “Now why don’t we see how your husband is doing?”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
Epilogue
Six Months Later
Eve dug her nails against her palms and stared at the results of the pregnancy kit again. Two lines. She could take it again, but she doubted the results would change. Eve began pacing the length of the bathroom, thinking. They had discussed children a few times, but in the back of her mind, she didn’t think she’d get pregnant this quickly.
Her fears stemmed from Lucille and her childhood. At times, her house felt like a prison. Only when she’d gotten older and more mature had she accepted her identity as being the daughter of a mob boss. Eve thought of her sister’s death. Would she be able to move on, just like her mother did if one of her children passed away before she did?
The incessant knocking on the door made her jump.
“Eve? Martha says you’ve locked yourself in there for over three hours now,” came Roman’s worried voice.
Martha was the head housekeeper. The older woman and Eve had also quickly become friends.
“I just need a bit more time,” she replied. What was going on? Eve didn’t need to hyperventilate in her on her own. Roman and she were partners. They’d discuss what to do, whether bringing a child into their world would be a good or bad thing.
“Eve, I’m not warning you again. Open the door or I’ll force it open.”
She didn’t want to ruin any part of the beautiful house Roman bought for her. For them. She finally unlocked the door. Roman narrowed his eyes as he caught sight of her. She must have looked like a mess in her old paint-flecked shirt and jeans.
Eve planned on working on her latest painting today. After she puked out her breakfast, she stopped and made a quick trip to the nearest pharmacy. Ernesto, one of the men Roman had stationed at the house, had driven her. Eve spent the rest of the day worrying and debating. Had Ernesto told Roman where she went?
“Are you sick? Ernesto said you…” Roman trailed off. Her husband finally caught sight of the pregnancy kit by the sink. His eyes widened to the size of saucers. Eve wasn’t sure how he’d react, but he only eliminated the distance between them. Roman swept her into a tight hug. All the worry and tension left her shoulders. What was she thinking? Of course, he would be okay with this news.
“You’re pregnant?” he asked, his gaze searching hers. It was as if he couldn’t believe his own eyes.
“We can go see a doctor to confirm, but I’m pretty sure I am,” she admitted. “You’re happy?”
“Of course, I am. Why in the world would you think I’d be mad at you?” he asked.
Eve thought about the shooter who tracked her mother and her to St. Mary’s six months ago. Fernando Perez. That had been the shooter’s name. Perez had apparently owed her father a boatload of money. He’d been a drug addict, a heavy drinker. Perez lost his wife and kids in a car accident. He blamed her father and her entire family, even though he’d been the one behind the wheel.
“I’m scared,” she finally admitted. “Of bringing a child into our world.”
Roman closed his fingers over hers. He led her out of the bathroom and bid her to sit on the edge of their bed. Then he sat next to her.
“I keep thinking of Perez,” she said. “If something like that ever happens again and I brought our kid with us…”
Roman didn’t let her finish. He took her mouth. The kiss was sharp, a reminder that her husband wasn’t just anyone. Roman might be a killer to most people. To Eve, he was her protector first and her soul mate.
“Perez took us all by surprise,” Roman conceded. “But I’m confident in my abilities to look after you and our future children.”
“I felt like a prisoner growing up.” Eve bit on her bottom lip.
“But we’re not your parents.” Roman cupped her cheek and leaned his forehead against hers. Eve’s erratic breathing slowed down. She rested her palm against his chest, over the skin of his heart. Despite the layers of clothing that got in the way, she knew his heart beat strong and confident for her.
“Do you think we can really do this? Raise children?” she finally asked.
“I do.” Roman took her cold fingers in his and kissed each one. “Have more confidence in us, in yourself.”
“What if I end up being a terrible mother?” Eve might as well get all her fears out in the open. She leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. She scooted back in bed, only for Roman to crawl on top of her.
Her husband pinned her wrists above her head and Eve’s heart started. She felt the familiar tingle between her legs. Her nipples hardened at Roman’s hungry look. Even now, she wanted him more than ever. He kissed her, thrusting his tongue down her throat, and her initial fears ebbed away. She loved how her body reacted to his heated kisses and touches. Eve even missed his dick, even if he’d fucked her thoroughly that morning before he left the house.
“You’re right,” she said, a little breathless after he released her mouth. “I just overreacted. We’ll do just fine. Won’t we?”
“We will.” His voice turned a little harsh. The tender look in his gaze melted her like butter. “Eve, I fucking love you so much. We’ll make great parents. I promise I’ll protect you and our kids from our enemies, from the entire fucking world if need be.”
She believed every word. Roman kept his promises to her. Always.
“I love you, too. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” she whispered. “Now stop talking and fuck me silly, husband.”
“My pleasure, wife,” he said, grinning like a wolf.
The End
Explore more books by Winter Sloane
CRUSHED VIOLET
Sam Crescent and Stacey Espino
Copyright © 2021
Forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it. —Mark Twain
Chapter One
Violet Baron’s face hurt from all the smiling she’d been doing. None of it was real. None of this was real. Her wedding day. Her father appeared to love the attention, whereas she couldn’t stand it.
The whispers.
The finge
r pointing.
People were wondering why the most eligible and ruthless bachelor in the country had decided to pick her. The overweight daughter of a struggling empire. She’d seen the headlines—the newspapers were savoring the gossip. No one knew the truth, apart from herself, Henry, her father, and the lawyers.
This was a contract marriage. Arranged to keep her father from losing everything.
She didn’t know the full scale of what had happened between the two men, but it had taken away her freedom with the swift signing of a name. She placed a hand to her stomach and took several deep breaths in an attempt to control her emotions. Breaking down right here, right now, wouldn’t do.
People were watching her, judging her.
Her husband made his way closer. At forty years old, he was twenty-one years her senior, but he commanded attention. His blue eyes, much brighter than her own, held her captive as he made his way toward her. Still with her forced smile, she tried not to give anything away as he took her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and leading her back onto the dance floor.
“You’re starting to look like a possessed doll,” he said.
Instantly, she stopped smiling. They were standing close to one another. His body brushed against hers.
Their marriage may be an arranged one, a simple business transaction, but according to Henry, they were going to be a married couple in every way.
He wanted … everything.
The wedding night would be real.
They would be having sex, or as Henry put it, fucking. Her virginity was part of the contract. He wanted to claim it along with the empire her father had built and nearly destroyed with bad deals.
“You asked me to smile.”
“I asked you to play the part of a woman in love.” His grip tightened at her waist.
“I’ve never been in love. I’m doing my best.”
“I’m sure for your father’s sake you can do better.”
“What would you have me do? Follow you around like a lost little puppy?” she asked. “I never wanted this marriage.”
“Hush, Violet. I don’t need you following me around, but when I arrive and touch you, you can at least look like you enjoy my presence.”
“I don’t.”
“Tonight, you will.”
His words made her still, but Henry held all the control. He simply led the dance.
“No, I won’t.”
“You know, Violet, I’m always in the mood for a challenge, but I also enjoy games. I play them so well. How about this? If I have you screaming my name, begging for more, you’ll spend the first year of our wedded life at my beck and call. Whenever I want you, you will come to me, willingly.”
“And what do I get?” she asked. “If you fail to ever accomplish that.”
He smiled. “I won’t tear up your father’s company and I’ll spend the time and money to attempt to save it.”
She tensed up even more. “No.”
“What?”
“You’re a man who knows what he’s doing. I’m not going to fall into that trap. You hate my father and his company. You’ll do whatever it takes to ruin it, and I won’t have all those people’s lives on my conscience.”
“It’s nice to know you’ve got a brain.” He leaned in close, brushing his lips across her cheek. “But it also means you know I have the skills to make you break. To have you come apart in my arms and beg for more, so much more.”
She hated her body’s reaction to his whisper.
This man, she hated him. She didn’t even know him, or the history he shared with her father, but already, she didn’t like him. Good men didn’t buy women against their wills.
“From what I’ve heard, you’ve got plenty of skill and a trail of women begging for you, Mr. King. Your reputation precedes you, but that’s nothing special to me. You spread yourself about. It makes me wonder if you’re trying to make up for something.” The dance came to an end. “Excuse me.” Violet didn’t care what it looked like as she stepped away from him and left the dance floor. She headed toward the nearest restroom.
No one was around, so she could finally breathe. She entered the room and went to the sink. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes looked a little wild. Running the cold tap, she splashed some cool water onto her chest. Her face had makeup on and she refused to ruin the work the other women had done to make this day special. It seemed she was the only one who didn’t want to be here tonight.
The restroom door opened and she stood straight, finding her husband in the doorway. He closed the door and with the flick of his wrist, locked it.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “I’ll be back to the reception in just a moment.”
“No one will miss us. I wanted to give you an example of what most women love.”
“Oh, please, spare me. I don’t care nor do I ever want to know what you do with other women.” She hated the sharp spike of pain that ran through her from the knowledge he’d been with other women. She had no experience. She’d never been interested in sleeping with random men.
Saving herself for marriage had never been her intention. She just hadn’t seen the point in being with someone she didn’t love.
She didn’t love this man, either. Barely knew him and what she did know, she didn’t like.
He closed the distance between them and she tried to shrink back against the sink. Her heart raced. Droplets of water ran down to her cleavage.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“There’s no need to be afraid.”
****
Henry found his wife to be a uniquely beautiful woman. No one could deny it. Her long, black hair, ocean-blue eyes, and full figure had his mouth watering. He loved her large tits, small waist, and flaring hips—even her thick thighs, which he’d seen in a pair of shorts in the newspaper. The moment he’d seen the recent headline of overweight daughter, he’d gotten his lawyers involved.
No one insulted his wife. Especially when he found her to be utterly rapturing.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Where he was already besotted with her, Violet was terrified of him. Or maybe she hated him. Even now, she tried to shy away. He couldn’t blame her.
What she didn’t realize was in his takeover and blackmail bid, he’d saved her from a fate far worse than this one. Her father had been desperate, and when Henry heard he intended to use his virgin daughter as a bargaining chip, he didn’t bide his time.
The allure of her innocence would bring in men with far fewer scruples than his own. And the fact her father had been fucking him over for months, he deserved the takeover. Nobody else.
Resting his hand on her waist, he pulled her in close.
“What are you doing?” she asked again, the question seeming to be on repeat.
The dress she wore flattered her curvy figure. The bodice tight to the body where the skirt flared out.
“I want you to close your eyes,” he said.
She shook her head.
“You’re tense, Violet. Let me show you how good it can be between us. No rules. No games. No bartering. Just you and me.”
“You’re trying to trick me.”
“Not everything I do is a trick.” Slowly, he pulled the skirt of the dress she wore out of the way and he put his fingers on her thigh, skimming them up until he was close to her pussy.
Her eyes were wide as he cupped her mound.
The fabric she wore was lace—sexy, delicate.
He slid his fingers under the fabric and touched her naked pussy.
“You waxed?”
Her hands gripped his arms. “I was told I had to.”
He stroked between her slit and she gasped.
There was natural moisture but no arousal. He lifted her up onto the counter, throwing the skirts out of the way and spreading her thighs while staring into her eyes. If she demanded he stop, he would. He wasn’t a monster.
No words passed her lips. No denial. Nothing.
A virgin cunt.
All his.
Violet had a cute little clit. She wasn’t as wet as he’d like, but fear wasn’t exactly a tool for seduction. He played the game well, but he didn’t want his woman afraid of him.
Rather than scare her, he leaned down and flicked his tongue across her clit.
She cried out.
He moved his tongue down toward her entrance but he didn’t penetrate as he worked back up to her clit, this time, sucking it into his mouth. Her moans filled the air.
Letting go of her hips, he skimmed his hands down her thighs, moving out to stroke her hands. They had a death grip on the counter. With his tongue, he danced across her tight clit, and before long, as he knew she would, her body started to respond to him.
She wasn’t skilled in denying what her body needed or craved. She could pretend as women did, but the body never lied. Her taste was exquisite, and he’d be spending a great deal of time getting acquainted with this pretty pussy.
“Please,” she said.
His wife didn’t even know what she begged for. He’d give it to her.
Her innocence already had him hard as rock. Tonight, there was no way he’d be able to walk away from such a prize or such beauty.
He got her so close to release, holding her there on the edge, on the pinnacle, and then, he let her go over into the abyss.
She was so responsive. Violet didn’t hold anything back as he expected.
When she could take his touch no longer, he pressed a single kiss to her clit and placed the fabric of her panties back in place. Lifting up, he wiped her juices off his face, licking his fingers as he did.
She fought for breath. “You got the reaction you wanted.”
Henry helped her off the sink and he fluffed her skirts back in place. He pushed her hair back from her face, gripping the back of her neck. “I know what I want, Violet. I know how to get it, and you’ve gained my respect in not putting other people’s lives in your hands. Give yourself to me tonight. Don’t act like you don’t want this. Give me a chance, and I swear to you, I’ll give your father’s company the chance to thrive.”
