Waiting for my Queen: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Cates, Georgia

  I nod, but I’m smiling on the inside because I’ve gotten under his skin. “Understood.”

  He dips one of his fingers inside the waistband of my panties. Pulling back the elastic, he releases it, allowing the band to pop against my skin. “Take these off.”

  I push my thumbs into the waistband of my panties at each hip and lower them down my thighs until they fall to my feet.

  “Good girl.”

  Reaching around, he grasps the back of my thighs and lifts me into the air. I reach out and wrap my arms around his shoulders because it feels as though I’ll tumble backward if I don’t.

  After he takes a few steps, we fall on the bed with him on top of me. I turn my head and close my eyes when his mouth roughly drags along the length of my neck. His facial stubble is rough against my tender skin, but I fear that it’ll be nothing compared to what’s to come.

  “I believe you mentioned something about limp dick.” He presses his erection against my inner thigh and even that hurts. I can’t imagine what it’s going to feel like inside of me. “Does that feel like limp dick to you?”

  “I can hardly even feel it.” I’m pretty sure that my trembling voice comes off as less than convincing.

  “Perhaps I should make you suck my cock first.” A sickening grin comes across his face. “I’ll be a gentleman and hold your hair out of the way while you suck it.”

  The thought of being made to do that almost triggers my gag reflex.

  “Do you really trust me enough to put your most precious asset in my mouth? Between my teeth?”

  For emphasis, I grind my teeth together.

  “Do not challenge me, princess. You will not win.”

  “We shall see.”

  “Do you think provoking me is clever?”

  “I do.”

  “All right then. Let’s see how clever you feel when I do this.”

  He pushes my legs apart and in one motion, painfully thrusts himself inside of me. One moment I’m still a virgin, and in the next heartbeat, my virginity is ripped to shreds.

  “Ohhh!” My loud gasp fills the room, and my nails bite into his flesh when I grip his upper arms, eliciting a groan out of him.

  He hurts me and I hurt him back.

  Good enough for him.

  “Felt that, didn’t you?”

  I try to fight it, but the sharp, stabbing pain between my legs brings tears to my eyes.

  “Barely even a prick.” My voice cracks on the last word.

  “Barely even a prick,” he parrots.

  He pulls back and my relief is short-lived because he thrusts again, this time with more force. I try—God, I try—but I’m unable to contain the high-pitched shriek in my throat.

  “You really shouldn’t let that mouth get you into something your ass can’t handle.”

  I dig my nails into the flesh of his back and drag them down his skin, provoking a growl out of him this time.

  “Still barely a prick?”

  He wants me to break. Stroke his ego by admitting that he is hurting me. But I can’t do it. I won’t let him win this round no matter how painful it is.

  “You’re still inside me? I thought you had pulled out.”

  He murmurs a string of profanities and slams into me again. And again. And again.

  I close my eyes and try to imagine that it’s Nic moving in and out of me instead of this monster, but it’s impossible. Nic would never be so rough. He would have been caring and tender.

  Luca grips my jaw in his hand and squeezes. “Look at me.”

  I open my eyes, and the tears collecting behind my lids spill down the sides of my face, rolling into my hair. Giving me away.

  “Eyes on me, Emilia. I’m not going to let you close your eyes and see him. You don’t get to choose him this time.”

  I somehow manage to mentally slip away from him in my mind and lose myself in the damn reaper song blaring in the room. My only thoughts are of the lyrics and deciphering what they mean. And I reach an unlikely conclusion. Gemma is right. This song does tell a story about a love affair that transcends death. Just like my love for Nic.

  The song comes to an end, and so does my concentration. I’m back to reality. Back just in time for Luca’s finale.

  He grips the top of my head and thrusts one final time, groaning loudly against my ear when he collapses on top of me.

  “That was ‘(Don’t Fear) the Reaper’ by Blue Öyster Cult, and up next is a song back in the top 40 singles at number 39 this week. ‘Wonderful Tonight’ by Eric Clapton,” the radio DJ says.

  One of my all-time favorite songs. But now I’ll hate it forever because I’ll never hear it again and not remember this terrible moment.

  I’m not experienced when it comes to sex, but I’d say that was Luca Rossini’s version of a possessive fuck, intended to teach me that I belong to him.

  I’m grateful when he pulls out of me and rolls away.

  “That was the most pathetic fuck I’ve ever had.”

  “Dreadful,” I whisper.

  “I thought that I might need to check you for a pulse at one point. Do you always lie there like a dead fish?”

  “I was lying still so I wouldn’t puke.”

  “Moretti wasn’t a real man if he was satisfied with a pitiful fuck like that.”

  Just the mention of Nic’s name reminds me of how deeply I’ve just betrayed the man I love.

  I slide off the side of the bed and rush to the bathroom, slamming the door closed. Placing a hand towel over my face to drown out the noise, I sob violently into it.

  I’m sorry, Nic. I’m so very sorry.

  When I feel like I can cry no more, I splash handfuls of cold water on my face and pat it dry. I still look miserable, and no amount of water will improve that.

  But Luca Rossini hasn’t won. He will not defeat me.

  I feel wet and sticky between my legs. That’s when I see the smeared red between my inner thighs and small trickles down my legs. I’m not surprised blood is all over me after that kind of brutality.

  Luca might not have taken me so roughly if I hadn’t provoked him, but I couldn’t help myself. He does something to me. Something that makes me throw caution to the wind and risk the punishment for the joy of the crime.

  Wrapping myself in a towel, I return to the bedroom. The music is off, and he’s out of bed putting on his clothes.

  “You’re leaving?”

  “Yeah. I won’t be able to sleep for hours.”

  Right. I guess cocaine does that to people.

  I’m glad he’s leaving. But not before I take another jab at him.

  “You conquered me—a woman who is less than half your size. That must make you feel like a very powerful man.”

  “The feeling of power has nothing to do with gaining physical control over you. It was in hearing you willingly submit to me.” He looks up at me while tying his shoes. “I could have easily forced you, but that’s not what I wanted.”

  “True submission can’t be forced. It must be earned.”

  “It takes a strong woman to fully submit.”

  “And an even stronger man to deserve her submission.”

  He smiles, not countering back, and it feels like a small triumph.

  “Am I to sleep here?”

  “You’re going to be my wife. This is your bedroom too now.”

  “I’ll be your wife only if I get pregnant,” I remind him.

  Word travels quickly within our world. If I don’t conceive, everyone will know that I’m infertile, and none of the men in any of the five families will want me as his wife. Bastards. But maybe that would be best for me. At least then I could walk away from this world, and no one would try to pull me back in.

  One side of Luca’s mouth tugs upward. “You’ll have my son inside of you soon. I’m going to fuck you every night to ensure it.”

  8

  Luca Rossini

  It’s morning and the shower is running when I come into the bedroom. I’m surprised E
milia waited so long to bathe. I would have expected her to scrub her body head to toe the minute I left.

  I consider taking off my clothes and getting in with her. The princess would certainly hate that, but her unhappiness isn’t what prevents me from doing so. I’m tired. I’ve been out all night partying with the guys, and I’m coming down hard. I need to crash for a while, so I’ll be worth a damn today. I have family business to tend to.

  I pull back the covers on my side of the bed and discover a blood stain on the sheet. The exact spot where I fucked her. Where I fucked her mercilessly.

  Virgin’s blood?

  Her gasp. Her grimace. Her tears.

  She was in pain. I saw it and I reveled in it.

  I made myself believe that it was because she’d never had a cock like mine before, but the truth is that she’d never had a cock at all. I couldn’t piece that together last night because I was high on coke.

  She isn’t the whore I believed her to be. She didn’t give herself to Moretti. He didn’t take her virginity. I did. Her innocence belongs to me. And that changes everything.

  Owning her virginity gives me a thrill down my spine.

  Fuck sleep. I need to sort this out in my head, and I can’t do that here.

  I pull the covers up and slip out of the bedroom without a word to Emilia. I’m probably the last person she wants to see right now anyway.

  My father. That’s who I need to talk to. He’s the only person who may understand what I’ve done and why.

  I grip the steering wheel tightly as bits of last night flash in my mind.

  Well, those are disappointing.

  Her tits aren’t disappointing. They fit her small frame perfectly. I wanted to touch and taste them so badly, but I knew that doing so would have brought me no pleasure because she was so tense and uninviting.

  Who am I kidding? She wasn’t tense and uninviting.

  She was in torment.

  I’ve never experienced that before—fucking a woman who didn’t want me.

  I lied when I told her she was a pathetic lay. Being inside her was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.

  And I turned it into an absolute hell for her.

  She was a virgin, and I fucked her like I was some kind of savage. I obliterated her innocence as though it didn’t matter at all, but the truth is that it matters very much. More than she knows. It means everything to me.

  I enter the Rossini compound, and my mother calls out for me to join her in the living room.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you’d be spending the morning with your fiancée.”

  “I’m here because I need to talk to Dad.”

  “About a certain young lady?”

  “Yeah. Some things happened last night, and I’m not sure how to proceed with her going forward.”

  “I’m guessing you argued?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Your dad gives good advice, but I’m the one who understands the way a woman’s mind works. Maybe I could be a little more helpful?”

  My mom has a good point. “Things didn’t go smoothly last night.”

  “What did you do?”

  Of course, she assumes that I’m the problem. And she’s right.

  “We went head-to-head, and I didn’t play nicely.”

  “Let’s be honest, son. You’ve never played nicely.”

  “Well, last night I was at my worst.”

  “Let me guess. You’re still nursing a wounded ego, and you retaliated against her for choosing Nicolò Moretti?”

  Fuck, my mom knows me well. “Something like that.”

  “Essentially, you’ve given your fiancée every reason to hate you and love that Moretti boy even more.”

  “She can love him all she wants, but he’s still dead.”

  “Have you ever stopped to consider why she was willing to give up everything for him? Why she loves him so much?”

  “I don’t care why she loves him.” And I really don’t want to have a conversation about why.

  “Do you think she fell in love with a soldier’s son because he acted like a barbarian with her? Of course not. He was gentle and tender with her.”

  “How do you know how he was with her?”

  “I know what makes a woman fall in love with a man, and it isn’t him acting like a jerk toward her.”

  I chuckle. “Are you saying that Dad made you fall in love with him because he was gentle and tender with you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “It’s hard for me to imagine Dad ever being soft. He’s always a rock.”

  “He reserves that side of himself only for me in private. No one sees it but me. And that’s what you must do for Emilia, or you’ll never win her heart.”

  “I don’t think she’ll ever give me her heart. She hates me.”

  “It’ll take time, but begin by being gentle with her. Speak softly and sweetly. Bend. Wear a velvet glove over your iron fist when it comes to your queen.”

  “I don’t know how to be gentle.”

  “Learn, Luca.”

  I killed her family and stole her innocence during one of my cocaine highs. How will she ever be able to give me her heart after doing those things?

  It’s hopeless. I’ve gone too far to ever gain her love. But I’m not a quitter. I’m going to give it my best shot.

  She’s given me her body. Now I want her love.

  9

  Emilia Bellini

  The shower didn’t help at all. I still feel Luca Rossini all over me. Inside of me. Even the air around me.

  The devil has crept in and gotten beneath my skin. The ugliest parts of him have seeped through my cracked exterior, and now his poison is in my veins. My bones. My heart. And I’ll never be the same.

  Hating him is my new disease.

  I’ll never be free of him.

  Until I send him to hell where he belongs.

  “Emilia!” Mamma, Nonna, and my sister simultaneously shriek my name when they see me walking into the living room. All of them leave their seats and surround me at once, giving me a group hug. It’s exactly what I need in this moment, and I break into a full-on sob the second I feel their warmth around my body.

  “How are you here?”

  “I called for a cab, walked out the front door, got inside, and came here.”

  “You aren’t being guarded?”

  “Apparently not.”

  “I thought he would have eyes on you at all times.”

  “There are men at the house, but they watched me walk out the door. No one so much as asked where I was going or when I would be back.”

  “That seems odd to me,” Gemma says.

  “Nothing about it is odd. He’s already ensured that he’ll get what he wants. Emilia’s leaving changes nothing because he knows that she’ll return in order to protect us.”

  If you can feel another person’s contempt like a tangible thing, I do in my mother’s voice.

  “What happened last night after you got to his house?” Micaela asks.

  “I don’t want to talk about that in front of Isabella.”

  “Come on, Em! I’m a woman now. I get my period and everything,” she says.

  “You are growing up quickly, Issy, but a conversation about last night isn’t appropriate for a twelve-year-old to hear.”

  “Go upstairs,” Mamma tells her.

  “Man! I never get to hear about anything.”

  I watch my baby sister stomp out of the room, her arms crossed, and I envy her. I wish I was twelve again without a worry in the world about Luca Rossini.

  “Was it terrible?” Gemma asks.

  Saline fills my lower lids. “It was awful. I was angry and I provoked him. I know I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help myself.”

  Concern spreads over my mother’s face. “Provoked him how?”

  Tears fall, landing on the front of my blouse. “I spoke of Nic because I wanted to taunt him.
”

  “Oh, Em. You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “I also insulted his manhood, which resulted in him becoming rough with me.”

  My mother’s eyes widen. “Rough how?”

  I look down, unable to say the words because I’m so ashamed.

  “He took you before marriage?”

  I nod and more tears fall down my face. “Yes.”

  “He forced himself on her. He can’t do that.” The volume and pitch change of Gemma’s voice demonstrates the outrage she feels.

  “It wasn’t like that. I gave him my consent.”

  “Because you had no choice.” Mamma puts her arm around me and pulls me against her. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

  “Will it always hurt like that?”

  “It shouldn’t have been painful… unless he was unusually rough.”

  “I think he must have been.” It seemed brutal at the time.

  “Was it different from the times you were with Nic?”

  “I was never with Nic. We were waiting until after marriage.”

  “Oh. I thought you and Nic were sexually active.”

  “He wanted to be, but it was important to me to be married first. And now I wish we hadn’t waited.”

  “Oh, Emilia.”

  “Last night was excruciating. I need you to tell me if it’s going to hurt like that and be so bloody every time he makes me do it.”

  “No. The worst should be over.”

  Well, at least there’s that.

  “He says he won’t marry me unless I get pregnant.”

  “There was no mention of that when they made their demands.”

  “You should have heard the son of a bitch telling me how he’s doing me a favor by allowing me to prove my fertility before marriage. He went on to say that because we can’t divorce, he’d be forced to kill me if I wasn’t able to give him heirs.”

  “Marco has taught him to have no respect for the old ways.” Nonna slams her hand down on the arm of the sofa. “It’s downright shameful.”

  Lines form over my mother’s face as she scowls. “Luca has brought you into his home and given you free rein because he’s that convinced that you aren’t a threat to him. He’s a fool who has underestimated you, and it’s the greatest advantage we can have over the Rossini family.”