Ruthless Prince : A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Dark Syndicate Book 1)

by Faith Summers

  I close my eyes when Gabriella runs her hand down my chest and shuffles so she can grab my cock.

  “Do you have a condom?” she whispers into my ear. Her lips brush along my neck.

  “Yeah,” I answer. My voice sounds far away, like I’m hearing it on the edge of the wind.

  She gets off my lap. A smile of triumph lights up her face. “Come with me,” she says again, beckoning me with the crook of her finger.

  I stand up and she walks ahead, knowing exactly where to go. To my suite. The suite I’ve had her in many times.

  We get to the stairs, and when I place my foot on the first step, I freeze up when I catch a glimpse of long raven hair floating behind one of the curtains. I gaze on at the woman with the willowy body and see her. In my mind’s eye I see Emelia again. My mind conjures up the memory of how I had her in the shower, and I know it’s her I really want.

  What will she think of me if I do this?

  What will I think of myself?

  Fucking hell… this wasn’t supposed to happen. I want her, and my damn body wants only her.

  Gabriella turns back to me, seeing my struggle. Her face hardens.

  “What’s the matter?” she asks.

  “I have to go,” I reply and turn away.

  She rushes down the stairs and grabs my arm. I glare at her in a way that should remind her of who I am. She takes heed and releases my arm, righting herself.

  “Why?” she challenges. “Because of her? Your trophy bride?”

  I’m not ready to admit that to anybody, least of all her. I loom over her. She shudders under the weight of my stare.

  “Watch it, Gabriella. Be careful. Remember who you’re talking to. I don’t want you tonight.”

  She backs down and takes a step back. With that, I leave her. I walk down the stairs leading down to the exit, catching a glimpse of Tristan and Dominic at the bar on the way, but I don’t stop. I don’t even know if they saw me.

  My body moves on its own accord. Like I’m being summoned home. Home to her.

  I drive back thinking of her and yesterday. I think of how much she wanted me too. It’s not that late when I get home, but I don’t know if she’ll be asleep. Her bedroom door is open. When I approach, I stop and wait by the door when I see her kneeling on the floor. Before her are some little pots of makeup and white copy paper. She drew on it.

  I make out swallows flying over a mountain. The sky is smudged with shades of blue and violet. She dips her fingers into one of the pots of eyeshadow and smears it all over the areas that haven’t been touched.

  I held back her art supplies because I had plans for them. Plans for her. Nothing malicious. It was just an idea, but I actually feel bad now as I watch her make use of whatever she could find to do what she loves.

  She shuffles around onto her hands and knees so she can reach across for a large fan brush. Doing so gives me a view of her perfect ass in those short shorts.

  It’s not until she shuffles back around that she sees me and jumps, startled.

  The worry she usually exhibits when she’s with me instantly settles on her beautiful face. She stands up, readying herself for whatever I might have up my sleeves tonight.

  We gaze at each other in silence for a few moments. She looks better than she did in my imagination, and what I conjured up was pretty damn good. What’s different is that longing lurking beneath her stare. It reaches out to me and tells me she’s been thinking about me too.

  I walk in and close the door, locking the latch so no one will disturb us. The staff will know that if they turn that handle and the door doesn’t open, they mustn’t knock. I don’t know what I plan to do to her yet. All I know is that I have to touch her.

  I move closer to her and do exactly that. I touch her cheek, her soft, soft cheek. She steps back, away from me.

  “What are you doing?” she asks.

  My gaze drops to the rise and fall of her chest and the pulse of her heartbeat quickening.

  “I wanted to see you,” I answer. As the words fall from my lips, I sense that part of me that’s been locked away for years.

  Locked away since that day when I found my mother in the river, saw her wide terrified eyes gazing back at me as if she were calling for my help from beyond the grave.

  I look at Emelia and feel like the person I was before that happened. The man I could have been if I hadn’t been burned.

  Her autumn eyes narrow and brim with the disappointment I saw nights ago when she looks at my shirt.

  “There’s lipstick on your collar,” she states. “And you smell like perfume.”

  Jealousy.

  It’s all over her. Jealousy and hurt. Unlike the other day, however, I don’t want to taunt her about it.

  “Is it hers?” she demands, staring me straight in the eye. “Gabriella’s?”

  “Yes,” I reply. The hurt in her eyes deepens. I’ve never had a woman look at me like that before. Mostly because I’ve never given them the chance to believe we could be anything more than screwing around.

  “Who is Gabriella to you, Massimo?”

  “A friend.”

  “A friend you sleep with?”

  “Yes…” She looks visibly crushed at the declaration. Her chest and shoulders cave. Her brows pinch and her lips tremble.

  “Get away from me,” she rasps and backs away.

  I follow her until she backs right into the wall, unsteady. She makes a move to slip away, but I place my hands on the wall on either side of her, fencing her in.

  “Get away from me, Massimo,” she mutters again.

  “No,” I answer, and in that moment, I remember what Tristan said.

  Think of what she is, not who she is. I said it was the same thing. It’s not. She’s a woman I’ve been attracted to for months. I got drawn into her. The same way I am now.

  “I don’t want to do it tonight,” she says, shaking her head.

  “Do what?”

  A tear tracks down her cheek. “Listen to you tell me I’m nothing. I don’t want to hear about your night with her. I don’t need to be reminded that I’m with a man who isn’t mine. Now get out, get away—”

  I don’t allow her to finish. Before she can say another word, I crush my lips to hers, capturing her pretty mouth. The second I taste her, all the desire I felt for her last night comes flooding back to me..

  The taste of her. Her sweetness, her innocence, everything drives me fucking insane. But I get drunk on the taste of her need for me.

  It’s the same as mine.

  The shock pulls me from the trance of the kiss. I move away slightly and take in her stunned expression and the desire in her eyes. It unlocks the restraint I placed on myself and compels me to tell her the truth.

  “I didn’t sleep with her,” I say, shocking myself further. I explain myself to no one. Not my actions, nor my motives for doing anything. Yet this woman compels me to make her the exception. Especially when she does the unexpected thing of reaching up her dainty hand to touch my cheek.

  It’s the first time she’s willingly touched me. It feels like being touched by an angel. A woman too pure for the likes of me. A woman who’s unbroken and uncorrupted.

  She’s like having something hallowed in my presence, while I’m the devil waiting by the door to lead her down the path of temptation. She knows this. She’s completely aware of who and what I am, but she’s looking at me like she wants me. In her gaze I see the path to redemption. Redemption from the vengeance I’ve sought for so long.

  Suddenly, I don’t give a fuck about wanting to prove Riccardo wrong. It doesn’t matter because as I look at her, I see who she is too. She’s just Emelia, and right now, I don’t care if she’s my enemy’s daughter.

  When the beauty guides my face back to her lips, I go, answering passion’s call, pushing aside everything past and present so I can savor her.

  Raw passion pulses from me to her when I feast on her delicious tongue. She moans into my mouth. I smooth my free hand up
to cup her left breast. Emelia responds by pressing against me, gripping my shirt.

  With my lips still trained on hers, I move with her to the bed and set her down in the center. I only break from her lips to whip my shirt off and take hers off too.

  Much to my satisfaction, she’s not wearing a bra underneath her top, so her beautiful breasts spill out. Instead of the terrified woman she was the other week, she gazes back at me with arousal brimming within her beautiful eyes.

  “I want to fuck you, Emelia,” I husk. A crimson blush darkens her skin. Her chest rises and falls. Her breathing grows heavier. I want to fuck her so hard she’ll be screaming my name all night.

  “I want to fuck you, Princesca. Please let me,” I add. It sounds like a plea to my ears.

  “Yes,” she replies. “Fuck me.”

  Hearing how I’ve already tainted her has me smiling.

  I back off the bed. She lifts herself up onto her elbows to watch me as I strip off the rest of my clothes. When her eyes settle on my cock, I feel it harden all the more, and the bead of precum on the tip shows how much I want her.

  I move to her and take off her shorts and her panties in one move, exposing her pretty pussy.

  I want to bury my cock deep inside that virgin pussy and make her mine. Brand her as mine. Claim her in a way that when anybody looks at her, they’ll know just from the look in her eyes that she belongs to me. I know that I have to be careful, gentle. I’ve never fucked a virgin before, but I know everything will be new and scary for her. I don’t want her to have any fears tonight.

  When I move back onto the bed and loom over her, she rests her hands on my shoulder.

  “I don’t know how –” she begins, but I kiss her words away.

  “You trust me. You trust me with your body,” I tell her.

  Watching trust come into her beautiful eyes is a delight I never thought I’d see.

  “I… trust you,” she says, moving in to kiss me.

  I kiss her hard then catch her face and stare at her, taking back control.

  “Spread your legs for me.” I release my hold on her, and she obeys. My mouth waters as I watch her part her legs for me, her delicious globes bobbling as she moves with the rose tips hardening under my gaze. “Good girl.”

  I nuzzle my face between her thighs, pushing my tongue into her tight cunt to warm her up.

  Fuck, she’s already wet for me. I want to bring her to orgasm once before I take her so it will be easier on her. Easier and more enjoyable.

  I lick over the hard nub of her clit, making her moan. When she holds on to my shoulders, I push in harder and suck on the little bud until she throws her head back and cries out my name.

  My name on her pretty lips has me lifting my head to watch her come undone in my arms. I take in the image of pure pleasure on her face and commit it to memory. That’s how I want to remember her. That’s what I want to remember, no matter what happens.

  “Massimo,” she gasps, reaching for me.

  “It’s okay, Princess. That’s only the first taste of pleasure.” I dive back in and circle my tongue over her clit, inhaling the sweet feminine scent of her, lapping up my first taste of her juices as they begin to flow into my mouth. She comes hard, bucking and thrashing against my face, but I hold her ass and press her to me so I can take all that I want from her.

  I lap up enough of her juices and leave just enough to guide me into her entrance. Getting back on my knees, I hold her thighs open. Our gazes tangle as I reach for my cock to guide it into her.

  I never expected to be gentle about this. There’s nothing gentle about me, but I want to try for her.

  I rub my cock over her pussy lips and push into her entrance, working my way in, inching into her virgin passage. I pause as her walls squeeze around the tip of my cock. Fuck, she’s so tight it’s almost painful yet fucking pleasurable at the same time.

  “Massimo,” she gasps. I run my fingers over her slender hips.

  “You’ll feel good soon, I promise.” On my word, I push past the tightness. She gasps when I slam through her maidenhead.

  She cries out again, and her eyes fill with a wild combination of pain and pure pleasure. All for me.

  It’s now that she truly feels like she belongs to me.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Emelia

  Pleasure and pain combust inside me and cascade over my body.

  I feel like I’m being impaled on his shaft when the bolt of pain spears through my body, but the sweet pleasure has my soul spinning right back into the arms of passion.

  Pleasure in its purest form ripples through every fiber of my being, setting me on fire. It comes in overlapping waves. My body bows at the sensation, yielding to it. To him.

  Massimo grips my hips, riveting his eyes to mine as he rocks his hips forward, starting a slow, steady pump.

  “Fuck… Emelia, you’re so tight,” he growls. The thick vein at the side of his neck pulses, making my stomach twist into knots.

  The lust thickens in my throat so much so that I can’t talk. Instead, I moan into the rise of more pleasure, this time feeling different than when he first entered me, different to the way I’ve felt when we did other things. My toes curl. Convulsive waves hit me when my back arches against the cool satin sheets beneath my skin as he increases his pace, fucking me like he owns me indeed.

  I search out his eyes, wanting to know what he’s thinking. I can’t tell. From the strain on his face, though, I think he’s holding back. Then something changes with the rise of pleasure. It becomes stronger, wilder, hot and carnal with a ferocious hold neither of us can control. He feels it too and grits his teeth.

  His balls slap against my ass as he drives his cock deeper into my passage, hitting my G-spot. He plows into my body over and over again. Another orgasm builds and rises, pushing me to the edge. A savage growl tears from his lips as his thrusts become harder, surer, faster and faster. It’s too much, and he takes me right over the edge once more.

  The explosion of passion and pleasure sweeps through me with a vicious force, and I fall into another wild earth-shattering orgasm. My bones tingle and my soul shivers in pure delight that consumes me, leaving me gasping and inhaling the scent of us as our bodies slap together.

  “Massimo! Ahhhh ….” I moan out loud when he starts rutting into me. My walls tighten around his cock from the intensity of the orgasm, making the friction of his driving beats slash through my mind.

  He fucks me right through that, his eyes giving him away. Massimo pants and mutters a series of inaudible curses in Italian, then jackhammers into me as his release floods my passage. Hot cum coats my walls. That new sensation arouses me all over again. It warms my entire body and fills me with a luxuriating sensation that leaves my nerve endings tingling.

  His shoulders slump forward, and his breath comes out in uneven rasps. Against the drumming in my ears of my pounding heart, I hear it more than I do my own.

  He pulls out of me. The instant his thickness leaves my passage, I feel sore and raw. I notice the smear of blood on his length mixed with his cum. He doesn’t seem to care about that though. He seems more fascinated with me.

  Massimo bends down, resting on his elbows on the mattress to brush his lips over mine. I lift my hand to touch his cheek, feeling the roughness of his beard. He brings my hands up to his mouth to kiss my knuckles.

  “Are you okay, Princess?” he asks in a low husky voice still filled with the passion we just shared. He rubs his thumb over the top of my knuckles and gazes down at me with his stormy blue eyes.

  “I am…” I whisper and smile at him. The smile comes natural to me, as if I’m supposed to give it to him after what we just did.

  There’s a twinkle in his eyes that I wish I could capture. The look and everything we just did confuses me, but I push away any thoughts that can break this moment I want to remember forever. There’s a noticeable difference between us. Who we were at the start of this day and who we are now is significantly different
.

  “You call me Princess when you’re less mad at me for being who I am,” I whisper. He presses his lips together.

  “I shouldn’t be mad at you for that.” He runs his finger over the ring on my finger and twists it from side to side. “When I saw this, I thought it suited you.”

  “Thank you…”

  As we stare at each other, I allow his words to sink in. He doesn’t say any more. I know that’s as close to anything sentimental I’ll get from him. I think it might be an apology for the way he gave me the ring.

  I don’t know what this thing is between us. I don’t know what we’re doing, but I don’t want to resist the entity that’s drawing us closer with each passing minute.

  He gets up and pulls me to sit. It’s then the evidence of my lost virginity becomes obvious as a mixture of blood and cum flows from my core and leaks down my thighs, running onto the sheets. My cheeks burn with embarrassment, but he lifts my chin to focus my gaze on him.

  “You’re mine. It means you’re mine. Whatever happens, you’re mine. You belong to me, Emelia, with or without a contract.”

  I gaze at him and feel the power in every word as he shows me glimpses of his true self. Even though that wall of vengeance is still up. Looking back at him, I wish I could see beyond the wall. I’m stripped bare and naked inside and out. I’ve given him everything. The most precious thing I owned belongs to him now. I gave myself to him.

  “Do you understand me, Emelia?”

  “I do.” How ironic that it should sounds like an acceptance of a vow.

  “Let’s go take that shower we never finished yesterday.”

  He scoops me up, and I slip my arms around his neck.

  The bright morning sunlight wakes me.

  As my eyes flutter open, I remember last night and everything I did with Massimo.

  We had sex three more times. Moments after the first time, in the shower, and two more times in this bed.

  I roll onto my side and see that the spot where he lay when I fell asleep is now empty. I drifted off to sleep with his arm around me and my head resting on his chest. We fell asleep like we were lovers and held each other like it was habit.