Married to the Bad Boy

by Vanessa Waltz

  The vibrator hums to life and my arousal returns with a vengeance as I open my mouth in a gasp. “Tony—this isn’t the time!”

  “This is the perfect fucking time. You need to get your mind off things, and I’ll be a lot happier watching you come while you shake Johnny’s hand than watching you cry.”

  His voice is sweet. I don’t expect that, and tears thicken my throat as he cradles my cheek in his hand. There’s not a tinge of doubt in his eyes, just reassuring confidence.

  “Tony, thank you for what you did. Everything that you said…” My voice croaks and those wonderful gray eyes dent with pain.

  “Jesus Christ, Elena, stop crying.”

  I try. My lips press together and I fight to keep the pain from bursting out, but of course it does. It’s inevitable.

  “It’ll be all right.” He wraps his arms around me and I’m swallowed by his bulk. “Please stop crying. Please.”

  “I-I’m not upset.”

  I’m just happy that I have you.

  The tears subside as I swallow that down. Fuck, I’m already getting way too attached to this guy. Even his smile gives me a high. I’ve never felt anything like him before.

  A tentative smirk pulls at his lips when he watches me calm down as the vibrations rip through my body.

  “Now get that sexy ass back outside. You need to say hello to my mother.”

  For all his banter, he turns off the vibrator the moment I take his hand. We leave the bathroom together and walk back into the crowd of people sipping drinks. The men slap Tony’s back and smile at me.

  “Jesus, what a fucking lunatic!” A man with a wide grin laughs at Tony’s stony face.

  “Fucking Yanks.”

  I flinch at that remark and turn away from the men to sit down alone at the long wooden table set up for us. The table is already laden with Italian appetizers: salumi and cheese, freshly cut country bread, and olives. The men start jabbering away in rapid French, all of it sounding so alien to my ears.

  I’m lost here.

  A chair scrapes back and I look up to see a pretty girl with dark curls and voluptuous curves sitting across the table. Her round eyes soften when she looks at me.

  “Hi, my name is Melanie. I’m Tommy’s girlfriend.”

  Oh.

  She speaks with a strong New York accent. I take her hand and shake it. “I’m Elena.”

  I glance at the tall, lean form hanging around the group of men. Tommy must not be able to understand a word, but he doesn’t look like he gives a shit. I’m trying to gauge how much she saw, and my hands shake underneath the table.

  “I guess you saw what happened.”

  My face flushes as she nods her curly head.

  “Yeah.” Her eyes lower to the table.

  A wave of depression suddenly hits me as I think about how I must look to these people. What a mess. I’m just an ex-Mafia princess with a ton of baggage, who got knocked up by a notorious man whore. How ridiculous I must look to her.

  Oh who the fuck cares? Look at him. He doesn’t give a fuck.

  Tony glances over occasionally to find me, and when he does his smile gives me instant heat, like a hot drop of pleasure down my throat. No one will dare say anything disrespectful to him about me. Insult a made guy’s wife, and you might as well make plans for your funeral. That’s the way this world works.

  “It’s a bit embarrassing.”

  “He made a fool out of himself, not you.”

  The honesty shining from her eyes makes me feel a bit better.

  “So you’re from New York, too? What brought you here?”

  Her cheeks burn suddenly, and she looks at me almost guiltily. “It’s a long story.”

  My guts turn to ice. After all the shit that went down with my father, Tommy had to leave town. Obviously his girlfriend followed him. There’s guilt all over her face, and the way her eyes avoid me tell me that she knows a lot more than I do.

  Fuck, I’ve barely thought about it.

  “I know Tommy was part of the crew that killed my dad.”

  Melanie’s face drains of color. I almost expect to see blood pooling at her feet.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore. I just want to move on, you know? Make a better life for myself.”

  “I’m basically in the same boat.” She smiles painfully at her boyfriend, who sits down next to her. “We’ve been here a few months. It was hard at first, but we’re getting the hang of it. Enough people speak English so it’s not really a problem.”

  A rattling sound fills me with horror. The fucking vibrator hums inside me, banging against the wooden chair. It slipped out too far, and everyone can hear the noise. Tommy frowns, looking for the source of the noise, and I tighten my legs, stifling it.

  I’ll fucking kill him.

  Tony joins me at the table with a knowing grin and slides his arm across my shoulder, kissing the shell of my ear as my core seizes. His fingers gently rake over my skin, playing over the strap of my dress, and I’m consumed with an image of him tearing off my clothes. Every small movement he makes reminds me of sex and the pulsing ache between my legs, which desperately needs something long and hard. Meanwhile I’m pinned to his warmth and there’s not a thing I can do—sex, sex, sex. There’s nothing else in my mind.

  I give him a sharp look that he completely ignores.

  Fine. Two can play that game, baby.

  I let my left hand fall casually to my side and then I slowly inch it under the table. There’s no tablecloth. The whole fucking world can see what I’m doing, but I don’t give a shit. My hand falls over his hard knee and I gently squeeze his thigh, stroking.

  His muscles stiffen under my hand, but his speech doesn’t falter.

  “What venue were you thinking for the wedding, Tony?”

  “I’m not sure. I like that one place we went to for Francois, with the gardens?”

  A man down the table nods. “Yeah, that’s Parc Jean-Drapeau.”

  My hand inches up his slacks and excitement runs through my veins as my fingers just barely touch the bulge between his legs.

  Tony coughs and his hand drops his fork to slip into his jacket.

  Holy fuck. It’s pressing right up against my clit and the speed triples. I look down the table, trying to distract myself from the lust pounding through my veins. It’s like a dirty whisper in my ear, constant and nagging.

  You want to fuck him. You won’t last through the night if you don’t take his cock, and let him fill you up completely.

  My fork clatters against the ceramic plate. All the food is delicious, but I can’t taste it. I can’t taste anything but the slightly salty skin of his cock when I imagine taking him in my mouth. I’m grabbing him in plain view. All the guy next to him would have to do is look at Tony’s lap, and he’d see. My face flushes with heat when Tony grabs my hand and pulls it away from his lap.

  “You’re giving me a hard-on,” he hisses.

  I smile sweetly. “That’s the point, isn’t it? You fuck with me, and I fuck with you.”

  His eyes blaze as my hand returns to his lap, fingers curling around his thickness. I squeeze and feel him twitch. He stares at me for a little too long and then there’s laughter down the table.

  I let him go, convinced they saw us, but it’s only Tommy, laughing at someone’s joke. Relief flows over Tony’s face and he gives his head a little shake. Then he leans over.

  “Come with me.”

  “Right in the middle of dinner?”

  “Stand the fuck up before I drag you.”

  I recognize that look smoldering in his face, and my insides leap with excitement as he excuses himself. He awkwardly positions his jacket to hide his boner, and I laugh to myself as he gives me a severe look.

  My chair scrapes the floor as I get up after him, weaving around the tables as he quickly heads for the back of the restaurant. There’s an enclosed glass room with sheer curtains for private parties, and Tony holds open the door for me.

  “Get in.”r />
  I look inside. There’s no one in there, but the table has already been set and there’s a little card sitting there: RESERVED.

  “Tony, what—?”

  “Get in.”

  The sound of his voice makes me hesitate, but it’s not just that. He looks pissed. Darkened eyes narrow at me as I pause near the doorway, and then he places a hand on the small of my back and pushes me inside roughly. The glass door rattles as he follows me and slams the door shut.

  The breath catches in my throat as he takes several furious strides toward me, and my back bumps into the table. Then his hand buries into the back of my head and suddenly his harsh whisper cuts across my ear, the sound remarkably like steel.

  “I don’t ever remember telling you that you could grab my cock in public.”

  A small hiccup of fear cuts off my gasp when his hot breath billows over my neck. “I was just returning the favor.”

  I wince as his fingers tighten around the strands of my hair.

  “I think you’re a little fucking confused about your role, here.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Smartass.”

  His hand suddenly wraps around my neck, the other one still pulling my hair, and he spins me so that my back is against his chest. I see myself in the highly reflective glass, chest pulsing under the flimsy dress he picked out for me.

  “You do what I say—when I say it. That was the agreement.”

  My derisive laugh echoes in the empty room. “I’m pretty sure the agreement was that I pay you fifty thousand—”

  “I told you. I don’t give a fuck about the money.” The hand lightly grasping my neck slides down, and then he takes my breast under the dress. Electrical shocks run straight to my pussy as he grabs my nipple between his forefinger and thumb and squeezes. “I want you, and I’ll take you as payment. How many fucking times do I have to say it?”

  A sudden thrill clenches my core as the words pulse in my head.

  I want you.

  His fingers splay over my breast, making the breath catch in my throat before he slides his hand to the other one, groping it.

  What the hell does that mean? He doesn’t want the money anymore?

  “But this is just—what about—?”

  “Shut up and listen to me.”

  The gruffness in his voice steals the rest of my words, and for a moment I’m stunned. Who the hell does he think he is?

  His thumb circles my nipple, teasing the sensitive flesh, and then his tongue touches my neck. It’s hot and cold, like flesh on fire. His mouth closes over the skin and he sucks hard.

  “You’re my fiancée. That means you’re mine, and you’ll do as you’re told.”

  I think he’s forgetting that this was all an arrangement. My lips pull into a smile and he notices, biting down on my neck hard. The sharp pain makes me yelp.

  “Or what?”

  Then he grins. “Well, you might just get what you fucking want, that’s all.”

  I’m yanked back as Tony pulls me behind the table, reaching out with an arm to sweep the candles and silverware from it. They fly off, bouncing and clanging noisily over the floor, and then he places a broad hand on my back, pushing me over the table.

  “Tony!”

  Desperate hands seize the edge of my dress and tug it over my back, exposing my ass to the air. I flatten against the wood, the curtains only partially obscuring us from the outside.

  Fucking hell, I can see the party from here. All they would have to do is glance over.

  “Tony, this is crazy.”

  “You grabbed my cock in the middle of dinner. What, did you think I was going to ignore that?”

  He can’t be fucking serious.

  But my mind heats at the idea of him taking me right here, where they can see me. It makes me wonder. This was all supposed to be temporary, but we’re already breaking down all the rules we set for ourselves, and now he doesn’t even want my money?

  What the hell is this, exactly?

  “I hate to break it to you, but I’m not your fucking slave.”

  “No, but you’re not a fucking princess, either. You don’t get to do whatever you want anymore. Understand?”

  Scorching hands scrape at my thong, pulling it all the way down my legs. The fabric shivers against my skin, and I moan when he gives me a stinging slap across my ass.

  “I asked you a question.”

  It’s not as if I’m a stranger to being dominated like this. Rafael loved to “put me in my place,” but usually that involved beating me into submission. A real man doesn’t need to ask. She submits to him because she wants to, because his very presence makes her clit hum. Tony’s different.

  He’s a bad boy, but I know he’d never raise a hand to me.

  Well, you know what I mean.

  Another hard slap burns my sensitive flesh as the blow reverberates through my body. I can’t really think about the pain. Everything hones in on how exposed we are. Jesus Christ, I can see them in the distance.

  The ringing sound of his palm against my flesh snaps me out of it. I focus on his hand, splayed over my ass. He rubs the burn gently and I feel the warmth of his legs against mine. No one ever spanked me like this. Rafael’s hands were always about inflicting pain, but Tony’s caress soothes the slight burn.

  “I can do this all fucking day.”

  SLAP!

  My body jerks on the table as another blow rips over my right cheek. “Yes—yes, I understand.”

  He chuckles, the deep sound filling my chest with an angry glow. His hands roll over my curves, never ceasing their movement. It’s an incredible feeling.

  “I never thought I would want to fuck a woman as often as I fuck you. I’m convinced you’ve laced your pussy with cocaine to get me addicted.”

  I smile against the wooden table, and then his fingers curve over my hips and slowly descend to my pussy, which still hums with the vibrator. My shrill gasp echoes in the room as his fingers deftly reach inside, pulling the vibrator out. He rests it against my clit and then there’s a click. Suddenly I’m moaning against the table, rolling my tits over the hard wood as it makes my clit scream for more. I arch my back as his laughs wash over my ears. My lip bleeds as I bite down. Electricity shoots into me, making the delicate flesh seize over and over.

  He rolls the vibrator up and down, moving it in circles around my clit. It’s torture. It’s maddening. I need him inside me. Now, before I scream out loud and alert the whole place to our shenanigans.

  I reach behind myself, touching his leg, feeling the hardness of his muscles before finding his long cock. My fingers slide down his length, feeling the throb beneath the fabric, the cleft of his head, and the slight wetness seeping through his slacks.

  With a gritty sort of growl, he pulls his pants down and I feel the meaty warmth of his cock pressing against my ass.

  “You want this, baby? You want my cock inside you?”

  “Yes, goddamn it!”

  “You’re going to have to say it louder.”

  “But—!”

  But they’ll hear us!

  They’re right there, eating dinner. All it would take is one shout, and they’d turn their heads, seeing us partially obscured by the curtains.

  “I don’t give a fuck about what they think. You should realize that by now.”

  No, he doesn’t give a fuck about anything.

  The hand playing with my pussy presses the vibrator against my clit. Severe shocks rip through my core, making it clench madly. I grab the edge of the table, and even the hard surface of the wood against my tits is enough to make me roll my eyes.

  “Oh my God… I’m going to come.”

  He takes the vibrator away, and the blaze reduces to a smaller fire. It’s still burning hot, but I’m no longer on the verge of exploding.

  “Tony, please fuck me!”

  My voice echoes loudly in the room, and he chuckles. I can almost imagine him shaking his head.

  “As my wife, you’ll have to
learn to satisfy your husband.”

  “Whatever, just fuck me!”

  The laughter booming from his throat pisses me off. I want to turn around and grab his lapels, and force him to fuck me.

  “I need you to scream.”

  His cock plays with my pussy, the hard length sliding along my lips. I stick out my ass, trying to grind on him, but his broad hand stops me.

  Scream? Scream what?

  He doesn’t make it hard. The vibrator returns with a vengeance, and he slips it inside my wetness, pulsing it against my clit, pulling it out and rubbing the sensitive area, and then back inside. It’s agony.

  “FUCK ME!”

  The scream rips from my throat, and then my cheeks flood with shame as I see people at the table looking around for the noise.

  Oh fuck.

  But I forget all that the moment he flings the toy away, gripping my hips to position himself. The broad head of his cock pushes against my entrance and then he slides in, my walls tight around him. He sighs as though he stepped into a warm bath and then he digs in hard, knocking the air from my chest. It’s almost painful, but I’m so intent on clinging to him that I don’t give a shit.

  I hear the grin in his voice. “I’m going to hammer your cunt so hard, you won’t be able to walk straight.”

  And he does. My arms fly out, trying to seize purchase as he thrusts hard enough to throw my body forward. Solid hands wrench my hips backward, and every time his hips connect with mine in a loud smack, I groan out loud.

  “Who owns you? Say it.”

  A choked-off scream rips through my throat as his cock throbs inside me, pounding so hard I can feel the pain rocking through my body. Then he pulls out and turns me around so that I’m flat on my back, face-to-face with him.

  For the first time, I see him as he really is. He’s not some guy I just paid to do a job for me. He’s Tony Vidal, a man who always gets what he wants, a wise guy who has decided he must have me.

  My legs hitch over his shoulders as he thrusts inside me. He leans over, my legs screaming as he seizes a fistful of my hair and kisses me. His hot, urgent tongue swallows my protests, chokes off my moans, and I realize how much I’ve been craving this. All this time we’ve been fucking, it was good, clean fun, but it was empty.

  This is completely different. It’s dirty and angry—reminding me of home in a twisted way. I need to feel like I belong to someone. He bites my tongue as I scream into his mouth, but he keeps rutting me hard as if he fucking hates me. I love it.