Until Forever Ends: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Adelaide Forrest

  Disorientation hit me when I didn't recognize the room, but the shimmering Mediterranean off the side of the balcony was unmistakable. The room around me just wasn't the suite I'd shared with Rafe.

  Memories of the night before tormented me in a sudden flash, my bones aching with the fear that pulsed through me. I gasped as my lungs filled with a sudden shock of air, my hand flying up to my neck to touch the sore spot where the needle had pierced my skin. My heartbeat thudded relentlessly, making it hard to breathe past the panic that seized me as I glanced down at where the sheet had fallen to my waist. I grabbed it, pulling it back up to cover my bare breasts. The space between my thighs felt wet as I shifted my legs, reaching under the blanket to touch myself in horror.

  My hand touched a dried substance on my stomach, my entire body freezing solid as I realized the implication of what it must be. A wet dream, even a drug-induced one, wouldn’t paint my stomach with my own release.

  My other hand covered my mouth as I swallowed back the urge to be sick, pushing past the violation to take in my other injuries. The reality of what had happened to me while I slept could consume me later, after I found a way to safety.

  After I was away from the man who I’d thought I’d known but could never have suspected the truth of his deception. Of who he really was and what he might be capable.

  Everything hurt—the consequences of my flight through Ibiza Town in the middle of the night. I looked to my left as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed as slowly as I could, determined not to make a sound.

  Rafael's shocking eyes met mine, cold fury in them as he leaned his elbows on his knees and watched me like the predator he was. Silent and deadly, studying me as I froze in place. I bit my bottom lip as I considered my options, unable to take my eyes off his. I didn’t dare to turn my back on him after what he’d done. Licking my lips again, I fought to find the words to speak to him.

  To find a way to communicate with the man I'd loved, and not the monster he'd become when I left him.

  "Rafe," I murmured, my voice trembling with a quiet plea. He lifted his elbows off his knees, sitting back in his chair and staring at me in the bed with that cruel tilt to his head.

  "Princesa," he returned. Shoving off the arms of his chair, he stood and stepped toward me until he was directly in front of me. He towered over me, suddenly seeming even taller than he'd ever been before. He held out a hand, watching me to see if I accepted it.

  It felt like a test, like one last chance to appease the nightmare simmering beneath his skin. One last chance to survive with the pieces of me intact, but I couldn't take it.

  I couldn't force myself to take that hand. Not after what he'd done and not knowing the answers to all the questions I had.

  “Why am I naked?” I asked instead, ignoring what I knew would probably be the last kindness he showed me. The cold fury on his face faded as he dropped the hand to his side, replaced by the burning infernos of Hell as his nostrils flared and he ground his teeth.

  His intense eyes burned into mine, a quiet warning in the silence before he growled his answer. “Because you’re mine.”

  “Did you touch me?” I whispered, my bottom lip trembling as I watched the cold smirk transform his face into something crafted from my most beautiful nightmares.

  “I think we both know the answer to that,” he said, stretching up a hand to catch a lock of my hair in his grip and twirl it thoughtfully. “Or was my cum on your body not enough of a clue for you?”

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked, a sob catching in my throat as I looked around the room in fear. "Where are we?"

  "We're home," he said, releasing my hair but refusing to back away from where he stood. It was too close for a conversation, as he practically breathed on top of me and I had to tip my head back at an unnatural angle to look up at him. I shifted back in the bed, desperately needing to put space between us.

  I moved slowly, sensing that fast movements would be provoking to the predator watching me like he would devour me at any moment. Fear skittered down my spine when his hand twitched at his side as I moved, looking like he wanted nothing more than to reach out and grab me so that I couldn't have that desperately needed space. He refrained, but somehow I knew it was a temporary reprieve.

  "This isn't my home," I whispered, staring up at him as I fought to swallow around my parched throat.

  "It is now." He reached over to the nightstand, grabbing a water bottle and twisting off the cap. It was half empty already, and I stared at it for a moment before shaking my head.

  As much as I wanted that water, I didn't trust it.

  "If I wanted you drugged, you'd be drugged, Isa," he said, jabbing the water in my direction. "I don't need to hide it in your water like a coward when I can just inject it straight into your pretty little neck."

  I swallowed, taking the water with a muffled whimper and tossing back the entirety of it.

  "I just want to go home. I don't know anything, and I promise I won't tell anyone about you. I swear it, Rafe. Please," I begged. His right knee touched the very edge of the bed as he took the empty bottle from my hands and tossed it to the side. Drawing my knees up into my chest, I tried to make myself as small as possible as I looked away from him and fought back the trembling in my body.

  As I pushed back the tears burning my throat and stinging my eyes.

  "I know what Chloe told you," he said as his second knee touched the mattress. He put a palm to either side of my feet, leaning forward like he prowled toward his dinner as he came closer and closer in my peripheral vision.

  "Are Chloe and Hugo okay?" I asked, daring a look at him. If me knowing even the barest of details about the things he'd done had led to my abduction when he'd spent days with me, what would happen to the virtual strangers who actually spoke of his crimes?

  "They're fine. For now," he said, drawing a distressed gasp from my lips. “Whether they remain that way depends entirely upon you.” I didn't dare to ask what I'd have to do to keep them safe. What would he expect of me in return for sparing my friends’ lives?

  “Is it true?" I asked instead. “What Chloe said?” Darkness swirled in his bright gaze, like a monster from the depths coming to claim the victim who'd gotten away.

  "You asked me a question," he murmured, his cruel smirk tipping his lips up at the edge as he stared back at me in challenge. "Are you finally ready for the answer?"

  I drew in a pained gasp, knowing that I would never be ready. But waking up naked in his bed after being kidnapped off the streets of Ibiza meant that I was out of time. I couldn't bury my head in the sand when the reality of the kind of man he was stared me right in the face.

  "Yes," I answered, ignoring the pit in my stomach that warned me to pull the covers over my head. The part of me that wanted nothing more than to pretend my nightmare wasn't happening.

  That I hadn't fallen in love with an irredeemable monster.

  "She told you I'm a murderer," he said, stretching out one of those hands to tuck a stray lock of bed head behind my ear. The callous of his thumb touched my face, trailing from my ear down to my lips to tug the flesh of it to the side as he stared at my mouth. "It isn't untrue," he said. The odd wording made a moment of hope bloom in my chest—foolishly, because whether it was true or not, the way he'd terrified me and abducted me would never be acceptable. "But your friend has no idea what I've done. Murderer only scratches the surface of the man I am, Princesa. I've lost count of the number of lives I've claimed." If there'd been food in my stomach, I might have been sick.

  "I let you inside me," I whimpered.

  He smiled at me. "You did. You even let me inside you when I came back last night after killing a man at Lotus," he said, his voice dropping lower as he spoke the words. Even in the horrifying circumstances, the cadence of his voice was like the sweetest torment, drawing me deeper into his web.

  I wanted to run away. I should have tried. But something in him kept me rooted to the spot and desperate to keep his
eyes on mine. Like a deer stuck in the headlights, I couldn't look away from the devastating beauty that was Rafael Ibarra.

  He was the worst of me, the worst of humanity, and he called to the demons hiding within my soul. But I couldn't let him have me, no matter how much I wanted to love the monster like I loved the man.

  He stood in the way of me going home, of me getting back to the family that needed me and doing what was expected of me. He'd be the reason they worried about me, and potentially, never knew what happened to me.

  He'd terrified me, hurt me, and stolen me off the streets.

  All I wanted was to go home.

  He dropped his hand from my mouth, waiting for me to make a move or say something in response to his dark confession. He'd touched me with the blood of a murder on his hands, even if it hadn't been there literally. He'd sullied me with his touch, tormented me with his darkness.

  I didn't move for a moment, staring back at him. Then, with the sudden ferocity of a woman fighting for her life, I kicked my legs out at him. One caught him in the thigh, the other in the stomach, and I propelled myself across the bed as I twisted my limbs and fought to get away. He grunted and rocked back, nearly faltering off the side of the bed with the force of my kick.

  He moved faster than should have been possible, recovering quickly as a hand came down in a hard slap to my ass while I dove for the edge of the bed. I didn't care that I'd tumble off it face first, only that the other side of the bed was farther away from him.

  Away from the arms that wanted to lure me back into his possession and trap me there forever. I screamed, the shrill sound echoing through the bedroom as he grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled me back with it.

  My scalp exploded in pain, his grip threatening to rip it from my head as I brought both hands up to try to pry his fingers off. He focused on dragging my body back across the bed, laying his weight across mine to trap me while I whimpered in pain. Only when he had me pinned did he loosen his grip, letting me breathe as the burning in my scalp began to fade.

  "That—" He paused, using the more relaxed grip on my hair to turn my head to the side. He kissed my cheekbone, holding me still for his assault as his lips formed words against my skin. "Was very foolish, Princesa."

  "Get off of me," I ordered, the steel to my voice surprising even me. The trembling I'd expected faded, erased by the potential violence about to come for me.

  For us.

  I knew if he did what the hard erection pressed against the flesh of my ass promised, I'd never be the same. I knew that even though my brain knew I should hate it and him, my body would feel differently.

  He called to the darkest perversions inside of me, taking and claiming them as his. He knew the hints of my desires, the secrets I wanted to hide from everyone. There was no one, aside from Rafael, who knew even the barest concept that they existed, and he would use them to his advantage. Even the knowledge that he’d touched me while I slept, that he’d painted my skin with his cum, didn’t horrify me in the way it should have. The darkest part of me liked that he’d marked me in such a primal way.

  If it had been anyone else, I’d have been too traumatized to function. But with Rafael, it somehow just made sense.

  "I don't think that's what you want," Rafael said with a chuckle as his breath touched my cheek. His voice was a soft murmur, a tone that should have been sweet. Instead, all it did was promise to corrupt me with his evil.

  To taint me and make me his.

  He wrapped his free hand around, sliding it between the mattress and my body to touch my lower belly. I jolted in his grip, struggling to get away from the touch that I knew would become invading if I didn't get away.

  A tear fell free, making a lone path down my face that he leaned forward and licked off my cheek. "Please don't do this," I begged, trying to shake my head no. He ignored the plea and slid his hand further down my belly. Over the line where my underwear should have been if he hadn't stripped me naked while I slept. Over the very center of my womanhood, until he slid a finger between my lips and bumped it against my clit. With my legs spread around his hips, he moved through me smoothly until his finger brushed up against my entrance.

  "I don't think my pussy wants me to stop, Princesa," he murmured, gliding his finger inside of me. Like the traitorous thing it was, he met no resistance as he pressed all the way inside me. Not even as he added a second finger, pumping them in and out of me slowly because of the restriction of my weight on top of his hand. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want me," he said. "If you can do that without lying, I'll give you clothes."

  The arrogance in his voice infuriated me to no end, driving me mad with the need to prove him wrong. Glaring at him from the one eye where I could see him, I forced my lips to form the words. As he leaned further into my space, his lips touched the corner of my mouth, feeling mine move as I spoke. "I don't want you," I spat. "Not like this."

  "Hmm," he hummed. "That tasted like a lie. I think you don't want to want me, but you damn well know that you're mine, regardless."

  "I hate you," I hissed, jerking my head back from his as he shoved a third finger inside me and pumped them furiously.

  "That one was true," he chuckled. "Such a shame that I do not fucking care. I gave you the chance to love me. I'll take your hate instead." Pulling his fingers out, he shifted his weight behind me as he shoved the shorts down his thighs, tightening his grip on my hair as I struggled beneath him. "Last chance to convince me, Isa."

  "Fuck you! You'll just take what you want no matter what I say," I said, snarling at him as he leaned forward and bit my bottom lip.

  "My world, my rules," he chuckled, sliding his cock between my folds as I squirmed beneath him. The worst torment of it was how good it felt, how much Rafael made me want him.

  It made no sense, but it was true, no matter what I tried to tell myself. I had to force down the moan that threatened to climb up my throat, trying to tear itself free from my deepest shame. "I don't want to be in your world!"

  "Well, that's just too fucking bad, because you are never leaving it, Princesa." He growled the words, notching himself and thrusting inside me with one smooth glide that struck against the end of me so harshly I jolted forward on the bed. His hand still held my hair, pulling me back as he withdrew and pulling tighter so I couldn't move with the next punishing thrust of him inside me. "You will never leave me again, do you fucking understand me, Isa?" he asked, holding me still as I struggled to get a grip on the sheets. I felt desperate with the need to claw something to deal with the mix of pain and pleasure threatening to tear me in two. I couldn't handle the dichotomy of sensations, the turmoil of my emotions exploding inside me.

  I wanted him. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to watch him bleed out, and he brought out that worst part of me. The forbidden desires and the violent impulses. The rages that I'd shoved down deep so I wouldn't become like Odina.

  He pounded himself into me with aggressive strokes, claiming the deepest part of me for himself as if he could fuck through me. His own anger was potent in the air, matching my own as he took it out on my body. He withdrew as suddenly as he'd entered me, grabbing a leg in his grip and turning me to my back. His hand came down on my throat, a solid weight as he pressed me into the bed and shoved back inside me violently. His beautiful face was twisted with malice, the pure hatred he felt for me now written in every line of his expression. I wanted to be free of him and wanted to comfort him all at once.

  I wanted to tell him that it had broken something inside of me to walk away, but I'd done it because he'd left me no choice.

  I couldn't abandon my life back home for a murderer.

  His grip tightened as he lifted my ass off the mattress with his other hand, resting it on his thighs so he could get deeper. I couldn’t hold back the moan that caught in my throat. With my ass higher than my head, blood slowly trickled into my skull past the hand he pressed against the front of my throat. My breathing was restricted as he leaned forward an
d bent his body over mine.

  His lips touched mine in the first kiss he'd given me since I'd woken up, the gentleness of it feeling like a mockery of everything I'd thought we shared before I'd fled in the night. I cried, tears building in my eyes as I held his gaze. As I realized that everything I'd loved had been destroyed by our choices.

  Gone and replaced by nothing but a simmering rage that pulsed between us, threatening to burn us both alive. He kissed the spot where my tear fell, sighing when I lifted a hand to touch his face gently. He leaned into the touch, seeming to crave the affection we were missing as much as I was. "I will fucking kill you the next time you try to leave me. Do you understand me?" he asked, making my eyes go round as I stared up at him. "There is no place on this Earth that you can hide from me, Princesa. Eres mia." My bottom lip trembled as my hand fell away, and I stared up at him in shock. He'd terrified me, but some part of me clung to the hope that he would never truly hurt me.

  That he loved me, beneath all the dark edges of his soul.

  "I understand," I whispered as his grip eased up slightly on my throat, still pinning me in place but almost with the gentle caress of a lover. His thrusts inside me still jolted my body on the bed. He still fucked me like he wanted to live inside me.

  As if he thought the way to reconnect with me was through sex, when sex had never been our problem. Our problem was that our lives were shrouded in mystery, in secrets that kept us separate and meant we could never truly know each other. He might have been ready to lower his walls and reveal the truth to me, but I would never be ready to tell him my sins.

  I'd take them to my grave, whether it was Rafael Ibarra who put me there or something else.

  He reached down to stroke my clit as he fucked me, the wet sounds of our coupling echoing through the room proof of the fact that I might have been more turned on by his violence than I'd ever been when he was gentle with me.