Monster: Made & Broken (A Mafia Bad Boy Romance)

by Nora Ash

  When he pushed my t-shirt up and bared my breasts, he finally broke our kiss to dip his head lower. I gasped and arched when Marcus closed his mouth around my right nipple, enveloping it in his heat. He swiped his tongue over the little bud until it pebbled under his ministrations and then sucked it deeply.

  I whimpered, my fingers finding their way to his silky black hair of their own accord. I clenched my hands in his soft strands for every deep pull of his lips against my nipple until the stimulation became too much. But just as I was about to voice a complaint, Marcus popped his mouth off my now achingly erect nipple and gave me a deep kiss before he switched to the other.

  I writhed underneath him, excitement mixing with rapidly mounting desire—a desire that crescendoed when he pushed a hand down my sweatpants and my panties, his fingers finding my clit without pausing to search.

  “Oh,” I gasped, jerking hard underneath him at first contact, and again when he rubbed it none too gently. But it felt good, right—he wasn’t terrified of breaking me like he had been the first night we’d spent together, but he was obviously still in control. My body melted, swept away by the maddening bursts of pleasure he elicited from my heated flesh. I grasped at his shirt, desperate to feel more of his skin, and he pulled off my breast so I could get at his buttons, though he never paused his ministrations between my thighs.

  The fire in his eyes as he looked down at me made my pussy clench and wet heat flood from my aching core. I wanted him—I wanted all that barely leashed ferocity, all the burning lust and every inch of his powerful body. God, I wanted his body! I’d succeeded in getting his shirt open and was greeted by the sight of stack after stack of strong, lean muscle in his abdomen and a chest and arms so strong I wanted to lose myself in his embrace forever.

  “You’re beautiful,” I whispered—and then gasped hoarsely when he, without warning, pulled my pants off my legs before he returned to my sex, this time pushing two fingers into me, his thumb taking over on my aching bundle of nerves. My pussy opened greedily for him, craving him ever deeper, and I arched my hips, lost to the feel of penetration. I wouldn’t have been ready for it so swiftly with any other man, but Marcus made my body sing.

  “No,” he said, his voice so rough with lust it was like gravel. The sound of it went straight to my core and I felt myself pulse around his invading fingers. “You are beautiful, Evelyn. Every inch of you. I want our baby to look just like you.”

  I blinked at the distinctly unexpected strand of dirty talk, but was quickly distracted when he forced a third finger into me, making my walls spasm from the hard stretch. I moaned, half in protest, but just then he curved his fingertips into the spongy place on my frontal wall and everything went white with pleasure.

  “I want to take you until your body gives in, until your womb is bathed in my seed. And then I want to see you grow round with my child. See your pregnant body writhe with pleasure when I make love to you over and over,” he growled, never letting up on the firm pressure against my pulsing G-spot.

  I cried out, too wrapped up in the intensity of his touch to object to what he was saying. And, as he fucked me with his fingers and told me how he couldn’t wait to push into me and give me the baby he wanted so bad, I lost the will to protest. I came on his hand to the image of being round with child, his child, the ecstasy it brought sweeping me away like a torrent.

  Marcus was on me before I could catch my breath, his fingers replaced by something bigger. Hotter. I wrapped my legs around his hips when he pushed in, hilting his cock in my still-fluttering pussy in one, smooth push.

  “Fuck!” I whimpered as my channel struggled to adjust. He was so big even three of his fingers hadn’t fully prepared me for the deep penetration nor the sensation of feeling his hot, bare skin skin inside of me for the first time, and I clutched at his shoulders to make him stop for just a moment.

  Marcus obeyed my unspoken plea, holding still deep within me while my shuddering core grew accustomed to his presence. He peppered my jawline and throat with heated kisses, fanning the flames in my already smoldering body.

  We both felt it the moment I was ready for more.

  Marcus lifted up on his hands above me, holding most of his weight in his arms—and then he moved.

  I mewled at the sensation of his hard cock sliding halfway out of my pussy, only to drive back in the next second. He took me in long, hard thrusts, grunting every time he bottomed out inside of me, driving moans and cries from my lips.

  It wasn’t like the first time we’d had sex. He wasn’t overly gently, wasn’t scared of hurting me anymore, but even though the savage fire in his eyes flamed with every stroke, he never lost his full grip on self-control.

  Being underneath him, feeling him take me, was much like riding a barely tamed beast. I felt both supremely powerful and completely at his mercy. It was the most addictive experience in the entire universe.

  When I began the climb for my second orgasm of the evening, Marcus was there with me. His hips, which had been pumping against me in strong, fluid motions, snapped down hard when I dug my fingernails into his shoulders and cried out in a wordless plea for more.

  If I’d had any grip left on my conscience, I might have feared the minor pain would have snapped his self control once more, but I was mindless in my pursuit of the rush I knew lay just beyond my reach. I ground myself up against his body and cried out when he responded to my fervent demands by shoving his thick cock deep into me, pounding me over and over. I wailed in ecstasy and clung to him as I finally found my release. My mind flooded with endorphins and my body was alight with sensation as I gasped and cried out beneath the man who’d fucked me to completion like no one before him. I was only half-aware of his strangled groan of pleasure when he stilled inside of me, his fingers digging into my hips with bruising strength as the warm rush of his essence flooded into me.

  Marcus collapsed on top of me, halfway squishing me into the softness of the couch, but I didn’t mind. I felt warm and safe and so completely, perfectly at peace.

  Even when Marcus nuzzled his face against the side of my head and murmured, “You’ll make such a good mother,” I felt nothing but blissful pleasure as I closed my eyes and let the afterglow whisk me away to a dreamless sleep.

  * * * *

  Chapter 14

  Evelyn

  The first thing I noticed when I woke up the next morning was that someone—I suspected Marcus—had carried me from the couch to the bed, and also gotten rid of the rest of my clothes before tucking me in.

  The second thing I noticed was the sticky downside of having sex without a condom.

  I groaned with equal measures of distaste and misery as I sat up in Marcus’ wide king-sized bed, not entirely sure if the worst part of today was my wine headache or the residue of Marcus’ attempt at impregnating me.

  Grunting, I scrambled out of bed, noticing first that Marcus was missing and then the glass of water and two aspirins on the nightstand by my side.

  I swallowed both in three large gulps, sending the big brute a thankful thought as the painkillers slipped down my throat. Feeling mildly better already, I grabbed a fresh change of clothes from the weekend bag I’d packed when he took me to my flat and then shuffled toward the bathroom, intent on not looking like something a fraternity spat out after a long weekend.

  Marcus’ bathroom was as luxurious and sparse as the rest of his flat, with black marble, glass and chrome dominating all surfaces, and I spent a good twenty minutes in the shower just letting the water wash away my headache and Marcus’ semen. When I wrapped myself in one of his fluffy towels after, I felt like a new person.

  Unfortunately, when I lifted off the top of the toilet to reach for the plastic baggy stuffed full of birth control pills I’d hidden there the second Marcus left yesterday, my good mood vanished pretty instantaneously. The cistern was empty. Or, it had water and all the thingamajigs a water cistern should have, but there was no trace of my plastic bag, nor my pills.

 
I stared at the place the bag should have been safely tugged away as my brain went over every possible scenario that could have led to my birth control pills just up and walking out of there on their own. Unfortunately, it wasn’t having much luck, and I pressed both hands to my face with a groan when I finally accepted the truth.

  Somehow, Marcus had been one step ahead of me.

  “You’ll make such a good mother,” he’d said last night. I’d assumed it was just a wrap-up of the weird pregnancy fetish thing he’d had going while we were making love, but no. The bastard had probably seen me sneak it into my bag when we were at my flat and planned to pilfer it when I was zonked out on my orgasm high. Fuck!

  I stared down at my abdomen, suddenly having the oddest sensation of carrying around a ticking time bomb in my ovaries. This whole deal had been easy enough to agree to when I’d thought there was no way he was going to get me pregnant anyway, but now…? How the hell was I going to avoid ending up carrying his baby now?

  A vague memory from last night brushed through my mind—the faintest whisper of the things Marcus had said about seeing me pregnant, and for a second I imagined myself swollen with his child. What it would feel like to have a little one to care for—and a man like Marcus to share it with.

  Yeah, because getting pregnant with a mafia son’s child—a mafia son you’ve known for a grand total of two days, no less—would be the best idea ever. I mentally slapped myself, hard, until whatever idiotic seed all Marcus’ baby talk had planted in my brain withered and died. Two days ago I’d thought of the man as a monster, and while I was beginning to understand that that was far from the truth, I also wasn’t some harebrained girl looking to settle down with the first man with enough cash to want a dedicated housewife.

  I pressed a hand to my abdomen and refocused on my more immediate problem. I’d managed to take a pill yesterday, so as far as I understood basic biology, last night’s sexcapades wouldn’t end up with a surprise pregnancy. Which meant my problem was just moving forward—and ensuring I didn’t fall for Marcus’ devious lips and that innate fire that went straight to my ovaries whenever he looked like he wanted to devour me.

  All right. With some planning, a lot of self-control, and a good heap of luck, I might be able to get through this without giving in to Marcus’ demands for a baby.

  Damn that man.

  I got dressed, wrapped my feet as best I could on my own, and left the bathroom, and when I heard noises of pots and pans and detected the delicious scent of bacon spreading through the penthouse, I steered myself in the direction of the kitchen. I found Marcus in front of the stove, wearing a t-shirt and jeans. His feet were bare, and when he spotted me, he offered a relaxed smile. “Morning.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, forcing the softness in my heart back when I realized it was the first time I’d seen him look so… content. The cloud of darkness that usually loomed behind his gray gaze was nowhere in sight.

  “Yeah, morning to you too. Quick question—when we made that deal about me being your companion in return for your protection… you really only cared about the baby part, didn’t you?”

  He shrugged as he stirred what looked like a pan-full of scrambled eggs.

  “You’re a real arse,” I growled. “You can’t just force me to have your kid—it’s not the fucking forties.”

  “I’m not forcing you. You agreed to the deal.” Despite my crass language, he remained infuriatingly calm.

  I balled my hands into fists by my sides, hating that he was right. He hadn’t forced me… I just hadn’t had much of a choice if I wanted to not get horrifically murdered by Brigs. Part of me wanted to push him, to demand what he’d do if I refused to have sex with him again, but the smarter part thankfully shut that down before I opened my mouth. I didn’t much relish the thought of spending my foreseeable future locked up in a basement somewhere.

  I sat down on the bar stool by the kitchen island and glared at his perfect, broad back while he continued cooking what looked like would end up as a full English breakfast. Mid-glare, my gaze snagged on the black phone that lay on the island just within my reach. His phone.

  A stab of vengeance made me reach for it as inconspicuously as I could, and to my surprise I managed to snatch it without him noticing. I swiped the screen and was greeted by a picture of a tall, dark-haired man who looked a lot like Marcus with his arm around a small woman with chestnut hair, a happy smile, and a baby in her arms that looked a lot like the one in the frame by the TV. It had to be his brother, Blaine, and his family.

  Hmm. I hadn’t had much of a plan when I grabbed his phone apart from just violating his privacy a bit as petty revenge for him getting rid of my birth control, but the image of his brother made me remember our talk last night, before things got… carnal.

  I wondered if he’d been in touch with Blaine, or any of his other brothers while I was sleeping, and flicked my way into his call logs. Nothing since yesterday. I found my way to his texts and scrolled through them. Nothing there, either. In fact, when I snooped a bit further, all his texts were one-word answers to someone else texting him a time or a place, either confirming or denying.

  I recalled the fear and pain in his eyes when he’d talked about his family being splintered if they found out, and my heart broke for him all over again. But if he didn’t do this… I’d only known him for a few days and he might be trying to get me pregnant despite my obvious reluctance, but one thing I was sure of was that I didn’t want him to be hurt by the gruesome man I’d seen in that video.

  I scrolled through his contacts and found the one marked “Blaine”. With skilled swiftness I typed, “Can you come by today? We need to talk about dad.” and hit “send” before I quickly slid the phone back to its original position.

  The small sound it made against the marble made Marcus turn around, his questioning expression turning into mistrust as he looked from me to his phone. “Did you touch my phone?”

  I shrugged, pretending like the sudden darkening of his handsome features wasn’t scary in the least. “Maybe.”

  “Evelyn.” There was an unmistakable warning in his deep voice, and my attempt at bravado cracked like an egg.

  “I texted your brother and asked him to come by.”

  Marcus stared at me as if he wasn’t sure I’d lost my mind.

  “You said you’d tell them about your dad, but when I looked, you hadn’t been in contact with anyone. I’m just making sure you don’t make a mistake you can’t take back because you’re afraid,” I explained, and then paled when I realized what I’d said. I’d commented on the moment of weakness he’d shown me last night, and judging from the way Marcus’ nostrils pulled up, it wasn’t appreciated.

  “That was not for you to do,” he growled, and I could see the anger flickering behind his gray eyes. He no longer looked content, and I felt a stab of guilt. I pushed it aside and returned his dark look, pushing out my jaw to steel myself.

  “Were you going to do it? Honestly? And if you were, when? I know it’s a big deal, and I know it’s none of my business. But I saw what was on that video, Marcus. I may not know your family, but I know a man capable of truly despicable things when I see one. Your dad… he could choose to hurt any of your brothers and you might be too late to stop it. He could choose to hurt you. You know this needs to happen, I know you do.” I slid off the bar stool and walked the few steps around the kitchen island so I could reach out for him, placing my hand against his warm arm.

  He stared down at me, at where my hand was touching his skin. “Why do you care?” he asked, lifting his burning gaze to mine. “Why do you care what happens to me, or to my family?”

  I swallowed thickly, unable to look away from his eyes. Why did I care? It wasn’t just the guilt of how I’d deceived him to steal that video from him, that much I was pretty sure of. I’d done much worse to other men while working for Brigs, even if he was the first I’d gone all the way with. But then what was it? The weird pull I’d felt toward him from
the first time we’d met?

  Was it the fact that, behind the darkness and danger that radiated off him and kept everyone else at bay, I’d seen the gentleness and longing he kept so closely guarded? That he was the only one who had gone out of his way to care for me and protect me since my mother got sick?

  “You’re a good person,” I said softly. “You don’t deserve to carry all that pain on your own.”

  Marcus stared down at me for the longest time before he finally said, “I’m not a good person, Evelyn. I’m a monster.”

  The way he said it, so calmly, it almost masked the flicker of pain in his eyes, made my heart break for him. Hadn’t I thought the same thing, when I saw him tear Leo apart? He’d been an animal, slave to his rage, and he’d scared me so much I’d run as fast as I could to get away. But what he’d done, he’d done to the man who’d hurt me.

  Despite my initial fear of him, I’d felt safe in his hands since the first night we spent together. I’d felt safe enough to offer him my companionship, and I’d gratefully taken the protection of his presence in return. As I looked up at him, I realized I felt safe with him because that’s exactly what I was.

  “You’re not a monster. Whatever else you are, you’re not that. Even after what I did to you, you’re still making sure Brigs won’t hurt me again. No monster would do that.” I gave his arm a squeeze and offered him a faint smile. “And no monster would have his brother’s family as his phone’s background.”

  Marcus looked at me in silence for a long moment before he gently grabbed my chin and tipped my head up. For a second I thought he was going to kiss me, and my heart sped up until I could feel it beating hard against my ribs. But he just searched my eyes, an expression of curiosity and something I couldn’t decipher playing across his handsome face.