Shane: A Mafia Love Story: Dark Erotic Romance

by Saxton, R. E.

  With a mad cackle of delight, Aldo got to his feet, clearly favoring his broken ankle. “Are you satisfied now, Nonno? I’ve killed this piece of shit.” He drew back his injured foot as though to kick Shane, and then screamed when the other man grabbed him suddenly and flipped him back onto the floor. This time, Aldo’s head made a satisfying sound as it collided with the concrete.

  Shane didn’t waste time with words. He let his fists do all the speaking as they pummeled the other man over and over. He was the personification of wrath and should have been terrifying with his dark expression and lethal intentions.

  Mia suddenly wanted to straddle him and rut like a wild animal.

  Aldo slumped to the floor, moaning loudly, as Shane struggled to his feet. He swayed for a moment, looking like he wouldn’t achieve his goal of standing. Then his equilibrium stabilized, and he loomed over his opponent.

  As he lifted his foot, his intent to stomp Aldo’s face obvious, Mia called out, “Stop.”

  Shane immediately froze, but shot her a look full of confusion. “What? Why?”

  “Don’t kill him.”

  He groaned, frustration lacing the sound. “Fuck’s sake, Mia, now is not the time for pity or mercy. If I let this fucker live, he’ll keep coming after you.”

  “I know.” Mia summoned strength she wasn’t sure she’d still had to get slowly to her feet. Her lower back and left side throbbed painfully as soon as she stood, and she had to grip the back of the chair. “Help me, Shane.”

  Still looking bewildered, he lowered his foot and walked toward her.

  Sal was grumbling in the background. “It must be finished. To leave him like this is an unbearable humiliation.”

  She ignored the don, as did her man. He curved his arm around her waist, and they shuffled together toward Aldo. Mia honestly didn’t know who was holding up whom, they were both in such bad shape.

  When she stood over Aldo, cold satisfaction welled in her.

  One of his eyes was swollen shut, but the other one locked on her. “Sweet sister, ever merciful.” His tone was somewhere between pleading and mocking.

  “Do you remember what I told you, Aldo?”

  He gingerly shook his head, clearly in pain. “What did you say, my love?”

  She shuddered. “I’m not your love, your sister, or anything else. What I am is your killer.” Holding out her hand, she turned slightly to Shane. “Where’s your knife?”

  He half-shrugged. “I lost it somewhere.”

  A second later, Mia blinked and looked down at the elegant pearl-handled switchblade that appeared in her hand. Her fuzzy vision coalesced as she lifted her head to find Patrick Murphy standing near them. His providing the weapon she intended to use to kill Aldo probably wasn’t good for the truce with Peretti, but he didn’t seem to care.

  Mia started to ease herself down to the floor, leaning heavily on Shane. They both collapsed to their knees in a less-than-dignified position, but she could now reach Aldo. Half-expecting Sal to protest, or have his goons intercede, she pressed the button to extend the wickedly sharp blade, honed to a deadly edge.

  “I told you I would kill you, Aldo.”

  He stared at her, obviously trying to intimidate her, but the fear in his eyes interfered with his intentions. “You aren’t going to kill me. You don’t have it in you.”

  “Ten years ago, I wouldn’t have had it in me.” Casting a small glance at Shane before returning her gaze to the blade, she said, “Even a month ago, I was still in denial of my own darker nature, Aldo, but not anymore.”

  A bead of perspiration appeared on his brow, rolling down his temple to disappear into his dark hair. “You aren’t fooling anyone with your tough talk.” Anxiety showed through his bravado. “You aren’t going to let this happen, are you, Nonno?”

  Sal’s silence was all the answer any of them needed.

  “Do you want help?” Shane touched the hand holding the knife.

  She shook her head. “Maybe some advice. I’ve never killed anyone before.” Her conscience didn’t try to persuade her not to do it either. In fact, the bloodthirsty bitch was sitting in the corner with a tub of popcorn, waiting for the show to begin.

  “Slashing the carotid artery is fast, and it’s easy tissue to penetrate.”

  Aldo started to tremble as Mia lifted the knife, holding the handle curled in her fist and the blade protruding downward.

  “Use a flicking motion, babe.”

  Mia was beyond hearing his advice though. A primal urge overtook her as she held the knife poised above Aldo. Rage surged through her, and she brought the blade down into his chest, stabbing forcefully. His scream was music to her ears, and she tugged the blade free to repeat the motion on another section of his chest.

  Losing track of the time and the number of stabs, Mia moved her arm up and down in a repetitive motion, unaware she was cursing him and sobbing as she repeatedly gouged his flesh until her throat swelled shut, and the moisture on her cheeks penetrated the red haze.

  When Shane took the knife, she surrendered it without protest. Her gaze remained locked with Aldo’s one open eye, and she could feel a hideous, gleeful smile contorting her lips as the life faded from his eyes. It had probably been minutes since she had begun, but her body ached like she’d been stabbing him for hours. The rush of endorphins buoyed her for several more minutes, until Aldo’s body stopped twitching.

  When Patrick knelt to check his pulse and shook his head, her sickening grin widened for a second before she turned away from the dead body to bury her face in Shane’s chest. He groaned as she hit the spot where Sofia had stabbed him, and she moved slightly, but couldn’t manage any further activity. Exhaustion was sweeping over her.

  “It’s finished then,” said Sal, sounding neutral.

  “Not quite.” Shane’s chest rumbled when he spoke, but she couldn’t lift her head.

  “What else is there? Honor has been satisfied. Ownership of the whore is established.”

  She twitched at the old bastard calling her a whore, but couldn’t summon the energy to protest. Besides, it wasn’t wise to cultivate Peretti’s ill-will.

  “I’d like to make a request, Mr. Murphy.”

  Sal made a hissing sound. “You dare ask for something after the carnage you’ve caused? You singlehandedly threatened the truce and brought the feds bearing down on us.”

  “Not singlehandedly,” said Patrick mildly.

  Sal snorted. “Your man should be dealt with, Murphy. If he were under me—”

  “But he isn’t,” interrupted Patrick, sounding smoothly polite, but speaking in a way that made it clear he was done listening to Sal’s input. He turned his hazel eyes upon Shane, and Mia caught a glimpse of them as she turned her head slightly to peek. He looked stern, but not terrifying.

  “What is it you want, Shane?”

  “Please understand that I’m your man, Mr. Murphy. You have my loyalty, and if you say no, this will be the only time I’ll ask. I won’t try to defy your decision, even if I don’t agree with it.”

  “I don’t doubt your loyalty, Shane, so perhaps you could get to your request?” The slight curve of his lips softened the rebuke a tad.

  “Let us go, sir. Please let me leave the family and take Mia far away from here. It will reduce conflict if the reminder of what has happened isn’t always in Mr. Peretti’s face.” Shane sounded sincere, but Mia knew him well enough to pick up on the tinge of sarcasm underlying his words.

  Patrick made an inscrutable sound. “You’ve been a good captain, and I’d hate to lose you.”

  Mia stiffened in Shane’s arms, preparing for Murphy’s rejection of the request. It was everything she wanted, and her heart screamed for her to make an impassioned plea for his release, but she just didn’t have anything left to voice it.

  “You make a good point though, about your presence aggravating wounds. You have my permission to leave, Shane. My blessing even, to you and your lady.”

  Mia sagged against Shane, n
ot completely from relief. A throbbing agony in her left side had suddenly increased ten-fold. “Shane?”

  Somehow, he heard her soft whisper. “Yes, baby?”

  “Maybe we’d better have the honeymoon before the wedding. I need to go to the hospital.” She slipped into unconsciousness before he could reply.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Their hospital honeymoon lasted ten days between them. In addition to matching concussions, Shane needed a transfusion, minor surgery, and over one hundred stitches. Mia had to have a splenectomy, surgical repair to stabilize the broken rib that had punctured her spleen, and sutures on a torn kidney. One of the surgeons also reversed the hymenoplasty so she wouldn’t have to deal with the pain or bleeding during lovemaking after recovery.

  On the eleventh day, when she was discharged, Shane escorted her straight from the wheelchair into a limousine that whisked them straight to the airport. A private jet, complete with a content Clovis ensconced in one of the luxurious leather seats, took them away from the city where they had lived and toward their new life within fifteen minutes of arriving at the terminal.

  Their first stop was Las Vegas. Shane surprised her with a sumptuous suite in one of the luxury hotels. To her slight disgruntlement, he insisted she nap and refused to join her. When Mia awoke several hours later, Shane led her from the bedroom to the living room of the suite, where three women waited, surrounded by bolts of fabric. “They’re here to make your wedding dress.”

  She tilted her head slightly. “We’re getting married tomorrow?”

  He grinned. “No, tonight.”

  Mia’s heart raced with excitement, but she couldn’t resist needling him. “What if I’m not ready to get married tonight? Or I don’t want a sleazy Vegas wedding? A girl dreams about this kind of thing all her life.”

  Shane laughed as he swept her into his arms. “You’re so full of crap, Mia. You know you want to marry me, and we both know you don’t give two shits about the locale. You promised you’d marry me whenever and wherever, right?”

  Mia gave him a saucy wink. “That was conditional upon you killing Aldo.” She ignored the horrified gasp of one of the seamstresses. “Since I had to do that myself, it hardly counts.”

  Shane grinned. “You chose to. I would have happily done it if you’d let me. I kept the spirit of our agreement intact.”

  Feigning considering the matter, and quite enjoying the shocked expression of the women pretending not to listen to their conversation, she finally nodded. “Well, all right. In that case, I’ll marry you tonight, but only if these ladies can make a dress I love.”

  “That won’t be a problem, miss,” assured the oldest one, looking nervous. Perhaps she was afraid Mia and Shane would kill her if she displeased them with the wrong wedding gown.

  Mia had to struggle not to laugh at that thought. It was kind of fun to be seen as a badass killer, though she had no stomach for repeating the task. She knew her short foray into violence had begun and ended with taking Aldo’s worthless life. Thanks to Mr. Murphy’s benevolence, Shane’s life of violent activity was also behind him. They would be able to settle into a life of normality, which might be a bit boring, but she was ready for a break from the rollercoaster adrenaline ride that was part of mafia life.

  Shane left them, and she browsed the books. The secret of their quick production was clear when one of the women produced a rack of basic dresses ready for alterations and additions. Despite the whole process taking less than three hours, Mia was pleased with the result.

  Four hours later, near midnight, Mia walked down the small aisle in the modest chapel he had reserved for their ceremony. It was elegant and filled with white roses illuminated by hundreds of candles. There was no tacky Elvis standing beside Shane when she reached his side. Instead, a bald man in a dark suit conducted the ceremony.

  In her princess gown, with its sweetheart neckline, and standing beside her tuxedo-clad groom, Mia felt like a queen. Not the queen of the underworld, or the horrible position as Aldo’s queen. Just like a cosseted, cherished, and worshiped woman. That Shane was her only subject pleased her, and she spoke her vows without reservation or hesitation.

  They signed licenses, posed for pictures, and returned to their suite in less than an hour. A small white cake and a bucket of champagne awaited them. Mia took the flute he offered after popping the cork, clinking it against his. “To the future,” she said.

  “To the thought of taking you to bed in a few minutes.” His expression clouded. “Did the doctor give you permission?”

  She giggled, both from the champagne tickling her nose and his phrasing. “To be honest, I didn’t ask him if it was okay to make love with my husband, but he cleared me for all physical activity, with the caveat that I need to take frequent rest breaks.”

  “Hmm.” He sipped his champagne before coming closer. “I guess you’ll need to spend a lot of time in bed.”

  Mia nodded, not protesting when he took the glass from her to put beside his on the room service trolley. “Probably so.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his stomach. “Do you think you’ll get bored?”

  “Um, maybe, unless you want to keep me company?” Mia gasped softly when he trailed his lips up her neck, revealed by her up ‘do, before pausing to nip the sensitive spot that made her squirm.

  “I think that could be arranged. What kind of husband would leave his wife alone on their honeymoon?”

  “Indeed.” Mia melted against him when he cupped her breasts through the satin and lace of her bodice. His thumbs worked doggedly to coax her nipples to maximum tautness, and she arched her back. “I’ve missed this so much, Shane.”

  “Me too.” He nipped the spot on her neck again and squeezed her breasts a little more than gently. “I’ve missed making love to you, and I’ve missed fucking you. I want to be sweet and tender, and I want to just take you until you’re screaming for mercy. You twist me inside out, baby girl.”

  “You do the same to me, Shane.” Mia pulled away slightly to allow enough room to turn around in his arms. Her surgical incision tugged when she lifted her arms to put around his neck, but she ignored the twinge of pain. “You turn me inside out and make me want things I never thought I would. You’re nothing like what I thought I wanted, but you’re everything I need.”

  “Same here, baby.” Shane cupped her chin to tip it up, his mouth meeting hers in a slow, drugging kiss. Warmth spread through her as she curved into his body. The kiss was sweet and demanding all at once. He was marking her as his, but she was just as quick to claim him with a sharp nip on his lower lip.

  He growled at her, and the zip on her dress was down in a flash. The fabric pooled around her waist, and she gasped with a tiny dart of regret when he ripped the delicate slip underneath. The garment was soon forgotten as Shane bent down to take one of her nipples in his mouth. He sucked forcefully enough to make her wince, and it was the perfect amount of pressure.

  “You know just what I need, babe,” she whispered, not too worried about increasing his massive ego in the heat of the moment.

  He swirled his tongue over her nipple as his hands busied themselves pushing down her dress and torn slip to pool around her white heels. A pleased moan escaped him when his hand cupped her mound and encountered satin and lace. Lifting his head, he looked down at her with naked lust. “That is the kind of bridal wear a man dreams of, baby girl.”

  Mia purred with satisfaction when he caressed her slit. “You like?”

  “I like.” He cupped her again, squeezing her through the tiny cotton panties before trailing his fingers across the white lace garter and down her stockings. “I like very fucking much, Mrs. O’Mara.”

  Hiding her grin, she said, “We never discussed me taking your name, Shane.”

  He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the huge bed. Shane dropped her with the appearance of roughness, but was actually gentle in setting her on the mattress. “You belong to me, and that
means you’ll take my name, Mia.”

  “What if I want you to take mine, Shane? You belong to me too.”

  He smirked. “True, but I don’t think either of us wants Kasilli’s name, huh, baby girl?”

  Giving up her teasing, she shook her head. “Not at all. I’m glad to be rid of it.”

  “You know what else we need to get rid of?” As he asked, he pulled on her panties, making a pleased sound when he discovered the bows at the hips holding them on. “I thought I might have to rip them off, since I want you to keep on the garter belt and stockings.”

  “You’re going to owe me a fortune in underwear, husband.”

  He grinned as he slowly dragged her panties off her, draping them over his shoulder like a sash. “It’ll be a good investment, but I think the obvious solution is to keep you in bed all the time with no underwear.”

  Mia laughed until his lips brushed over her mound, his tongue dipping inside to taste her. It had been too long since they’d been intimate, and her body raced into overdrive. Her moisture flooded his face, and he seemed determined to lick up every drop.

  Moaning, she clutched the white comforter and arched against his face as he sucked and stroked her, gently probing her opening. There was a little discomfort remaining from the surgeries performed by Sandoval and the doctor at the hospital, but nothing that detracted from her pleasure. Mia hovered on the edge of release in no time, her body craving it so badly she shook. When he lifted his head, she glared at him. “Don’t even think about leaving me hanging, O’Mara.”

  He grinned. “Don’t worry, babe. I fully intend to satisfy you.” Dipping his head, the lightest flutter of his tongue across her clitoris induced the orgasm she’d needed.

  Mia trembled under her release, enjoying the pleasure while keenly aware something was missing. She needed him to fill her up. “Please fuck me, Shane.”

  “Gladly. Next time will be sweet, but I fucking need you now, baby girl.” Shane didn’t bother with removing his clothes, and it was a huge turn-on to see him fumbling with his dress slacks to free his dick. The thought that she could push him so close to the point of losing control filled her with feminine power and sexual gratification. Knowing it was a double-edged sword, and that he could do the same to her, only increased her pleasure.