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

by Faith Summers

  I can see the beach from here and realize that from what I’m looking at, the room can’t actually be that far from mine. There’s a door at the side, and I’d be willing to guess that it must lead to some sort of corridor that would lead to my room.

  There was a door in my room too, that was always locked. I assumed it led outside. I think it leads here.

  “This room is close to mine,” I state.

  “Yes, it is. You look like you’re deciding if you should be mad at me or not.”

  “I’m not mad.”

  “Good, I don’t want to waste time disciplining you tonight. Unless you want me to. You were quite wet after that spanking the other week.” He smiles, and my entire body blushes from his scandalous words and the look he gives me.

  “I didn’t like that,” I answer. He’s right to look back at me in disbelief because I was wet. The evidence was there that I was aroused in some way by what he did.

  “Don’t worry. Next time, I’ll make it more pleasurable. You have the perfect ass for spanking.” He chuckles as my eyes go wide and I swallow hard.

  I keep my gaze trained on him as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip and moves behind me. Warmth graces my skin as he unzips my dress, and we both watch it float down to my feet. My strapless bra follows. He reaches forward and fills his palms with my breasts, squeezing then kneading, making me moan in response to his touch.

  “The dress looked great on you, but I prefer your naked body. And I love playing with your gorgeous tits,” he mutters into my ear, his hot breath tickling my skin.

  I groan with pleasure as he continues to massage my breasts. Pleasure claims my mind. I’m ready to kiss him when he flips me around to recapture the kiss we shared on the road.

  Our lips meet, and I decide tonight will be different. Usually, I’m like a doll in his house, a toy for him to play with, but I want him too. I want to explore his body the way he explores mine. I want to enjoy it.

  I tug at his shirt, freeing it from the waistband of his pants, and undo the bottom button. I’m about halfway up in my pursuit when he catches my greedy hands and clasps his over mine.

  A dark smile lifts the corners of his mouth when he moves away from me to get a look at my face.

  “You want me. Say it,” he demands with a stare that makes me melt.

  “I want you,” I answer. Shame fills me.

  He moves in close in a predatory way, as if he’s going to take me whole. Fright momentarily fills me.

  “Be careful, Emelia,” he warns. “My Princesca. Be careful what you want. If you’re not careful, you just might get it, and it won’t always be a good thing. I’m the big bad wolf, the devil.” He leers at me, but when I look at him, I only see the Massimo my heart wants.

  The man I’m drawn to, the man who makes my heart beat the same way it does when I think of my dreams.

  “Still want me?”

  “Don’t you want me to want you?”

  “No. Because you deserve better.” I think it’s a lie. I think he wants to believe that, and it’s true but it’s a lie. His eyes darken to that of an afternoon sunset as he gazes long and hard at me. “I’m a selfish bastard, Emelia. You must know that by now. So, I want you to want me whether or not it’s good or bad.”

  I take charge now and finish undoing his buttons. I take off his shirt, and he allows me to. I start undoing his belt while he runs his thumb over the hard peaks of my nipples.

  “What are you going to do to me?” He smiles.

  “I want to suck your cock,” I answer. My ears burn at my words. I’ve never said that before, and I’ve never done this before. I know he’s wanted it. I have too.

  His lips part as he watches me.

  I push down the band of his boxers once I’ve unzipped his fly. As I do so, his cock springs free and I run my fingers over the length. He’s completely erect and ready to be inside me, but I’m having him first.

  I lower to my knees and lick off the precum on the tip of his mushroom head. It tastes salty and masculine. It’s the taste of him.

  I secure a grip on the base and pump up and down, then take him right into my mouth. He groans with pleasure I’ve never heard come from him.

  I have no idea what I’m doing, but there’s no way I’m not going to do this properly. I don’t want him thinking of someone like Gabriella when he’s with me. Or comparing. I suck harder when I imagine her doing this to him, and he laces his fingers through my hair.

  “Fucking hell, Emelia, you are fucking perfect.”

  I take that as a sign I’m doing a good job, so I continue sucking hard. He thrusts into my mouth, fucking my face. He goes deeper, and I take it. He tightens his grip on my head, and I take it. He pumps so hard I think I might choke, but I take it because I know I’m pleasing him.

  When I start to massage his balls, he groans out loud but stops pumping. He runs his fingers through my hair, and I stop sucking.

  “I want to play with you in a different way tonight, Emelia, and finish inside you,” he groans, pulling me up. The pleasure-filled expression looks beautiful on his face. Pleasure I gave him. “I want to be dirtier, darker with you tonight, Princesca. Let me.”

  He’s still erect and looks like he’s ready to blow but exhibits enough control to kiss me so hard my lips burn.

  “What are you going to do?” I ask. There’s something dark indeed lurking in his eyes that hardens his face with raw desire. It intrigues me to find out what he means by dirtier and darker.

  He moves us to the wall with the wardrobe, releases me, and pulls on a curtain I assumed covered the window. As the curtain opens, I see it’s not a window.

  My mouth falls open when my gaze lands on a large metal St. Andrews Cross unit by the wall and a little table that holds an assortment of restraints. Chains, handcuffs, ropes, and a whip.

  BDSM. That’s what this is. That’s what I’m looking at.

  In only a few weeks, I’ve given away my first kiss, lost my virginity, and now look at me. What am I doing now? What am I agreeing to?

  “Are you scared, Princess?” he asks. My gaze drifts from the cross to him. “I want to tie you up and fuck you. I want to live out a wild, dark, reckless fantasy I’ve had of you since I saw you at the charity ball.”

  The thought of a man like him fantasizing about me is what hooks me and pulls me into the fantasy of allowing him to tie me up and do whatever he wants to me.

  “Does that frighten you, Princess Emelia?” he asks again.

  “No,” I answer. I’m not sure if I meant to say that, though, because truthfully, I’m frightened and everything inside me should be telling me to run away. It’s just not. My brain isn’t working more than to tell me to say yes.

  Agree. Agree to everything this man wants to do to me.

  The flame of satisfaction lights up his eyes. Desire blazes deep within them, with molten heat so hot his stare burns me up.

  “Will you allow me to tie you up?” He moves away from the curtain and takes my hand. Lifting it to his mouth, he plants a kiss on my knuckles. “You can say no. I give you freedom to tell me to fuck off because this is too much. But I want you like this.”

  I want him to want me.

  “I… want to,” I answer and swallow against the desire that burns the back of my throat.

  “You have to trust me. This is us. It would be as simple as that. You and me.”

  “Yes,” I answer. It’s the easiest yes I’ve ever given because I want that too.

  “Your safe word is Red, Princesca. I will not hurt you, but if I do anything you don’t want me to do or you want me to stop, you say Red. Understand?”

  “I understand.”

  He closes his hand over mine and ushers me to the cross. While I look over the structure, he takes a pair of leather cuffs from the table and secures one cuff to the left side of the cross, pushing the chain through the little hoop at the top.

  He holds out his hand to me, asking for mine. I give it to him. He then secures th
e cuff to my wrist and repeats the same thing on the other side.

  Before securing my ankles, he takes off my panties. When he’s done and I’m tied up, I realize I’m completely at his mercy.

  I’ve more than given over my body to him. I’ve given him my choice and my mind. My heart made me do it.

  He steps out of his pants and boxers, shedding his clothes so we’re both naked.

  Walking over to me, he crouches down and buries his face between my thighs to start a slow suckle on my clit. He sucks, and the slow softness makes me more aroused.

  The chains on the cuffs on my legs are slightly longer so I can move just enough and he can position me how he wants to eat me out. The cuffs around my wrists are long enough so I can bend forward. All are adjusted to move me into whatever sexual position he wants me to be in. I shuffle against his ruthless tongue as he thrashes over my opening, tantalizing my body.

  “Oh God!” I cry out, throwing my head back. “Fuck.” I come before I can pull in another breath. Wetness flows from me right into his mouth. As he drinks, he reaches up to massage my nipples. With the restraints on me, I can’t move in the way I would to take the pleasure. It feels good but painful in a strange way because of the overload of intense pleasure.

  “Massimo!” I scream. He answers with a dark chuckle.

  “Scream my name, Princesca. Scream until you can’t talk. I’m not finished with you yet.”

  I rasp out a breath when he dives back in and continues feasting on me. This time, his tongue feels amazing, and the fact that I can’t move more than what I am holds me in the grip of pleasure to take what he’s giving my body.

  Dirty, dark, dangerous pleasure I’m now drunk on and greedy for when he feeds me more. I come again, screaming. No words come out, just a sound that tears from my lips, of raw, primal pleasure.

  Massimo gets up and licks his lips, licking up the nectar from my pussy that dripped down the side of his mouth.

  His cock looks like it’s bursting, but he still emits that air of control. I want to touch him, but he’s in charge of what we do next.

  He moves behind me, grabs my hips. Lining his cock up with my entrance, he plunges into my pussy. I gasp when my body jerks forward.

  He starts to fuck me. It feels so damn good I can barely breathe. I feel so amazing that I forget I’m restrained.

  He pumps into me hard, and I take his hard thrusts. He grabs a fistful of my hair and pounds into me, making our bodies slap together. The sounds fill the room. Our groans and moans join the orchestra of hot sex.

  Another orgasm takes me, and he lets go of my hair. He rocks my body with his deep, rough strokes as I writhe against him, chains clinking.

  The warmth of his fingers moves across my back like a trail of fire and circles over the tight rosette of my asshole. When he pushes his fingers in, my knees buckle, but he holds me up and slows his pumps.

  “Baby, please let me take you here. Let me,” he groans. I know I should be mortified, but I want to give everything to him. So I do

  “Yes,” I say, and he pulls out of me.

  He coats my asshole with my juices, working his finger inside and around the area. Hyped up on pleasure, I’m only mildly aware of what he’s doing until I feel the fat head of his cock pressing against my ass.

  My eyes widen as he inches in. It feels so strange.

  “It’s okay, baby, I promise you’ll feel good really soon,” he soothes me and strokes my back gently. He’s so gentle I can’t believe it’s him.

  I groan and he stops. “Red yet, Princess? You can say Red. You’re the boss of me tonight.”

  His words grip me. I try to look back at him, but my hair falls forward.

  “No. I want you to…” I rasp, and he strokes me again.

  Slowly, he moves in until he’s deeper. A blast of pleasure races through my blood. Holy shit, the new sensation feels amazing.

  What feels better is when he starts moving slowly inside me and goes deeper. That’s when I mewl so loudly I’m sure everyone in the house and the surrounding areas can hear me. Shit.

  The sound seems to encourage him because he starts pumping harder. I’ve adjusted to take his thrusts, so as he fucks my asshole, all I feel is raw, undiluted pleasure that shatters me from the inside out.

  I come again, and as I do, he floods me with a fierce cry, sounding like a warrior in battle. The warmth of his cum sprays into me, claiming that part of me like he did when he took my virginity. There’s nothing left to claim. This man has taken it all.

  We calm. My knees cave worse than before. Even when he catches me, I can’t right myself.

  I’m completely spent and drained. There is nothing left of me. The heaviness of exhaustion has come to take me whole.

  He holds me up with one hand while he undoes the cuffs. One at a time they go, releasing me from the mercy of his fantasy. I know he enjoyed it, but the pleasure he gave me was unlike anything I’ve experienced. Like a drug I crave more of. More of him.

  He scoops me up and carries me to the bed. I’m so drained I barely register that he’s left my side. It’s only when he wipes a warm rag over my mound that I figure he must have left me to get it. After he cleans me, he gets in bed next to me and I manage to roll into his arms so he can hold me.

  “Are you okay, Princesca?” he asks.

  “I’m tired.”

  “I’ll take care of you.” It sounds like a vow.

  Is it?

  I hold his gaze. It’s like I’m seeing him for the first time. There’s a sparkle deep in his eyes. It’s the same as what I saw in the painting his mother did. It’s his soul. That’s what she painted in his eyes. She provided a window to his soul, and I see it.

  “I see you,” I say.

  Slowly, he shakes his head, and just like that, the sparkle is gone. “Don’t...”

  It’s good advice.

  Don’t.

  I could apply to it anything, but I know what he means.

  Don’t fall for him, that’s what he’s trying to tell me.

  I’ve thought about my heart a lot tonight. Cautioning myself the same. He’s collected pieces of me. I thought I had nothing left to give.

  I do. I have my heart and my soul. That’s what I have left.

  He doesn’t love me. I don’t think he does. I don’t think he can.

  So, I must never allow him to take the last two things away from me.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Massimo

  I step out onto the terrace, gaze up at the stars as memories of last night come back to me.

  It was the twinkle in Emelia’s eyes and the way she looked at me the whole night that I’ll always remember.

  I see you…

  That’s what she said to me. I knew what she meant. She could see inside me, past the wall I built, see deep down to the real me.

  Just like at the ball, I dropped my guard. At the ball, when I first saw her, she was so striking I couldn’t keep that wall up. The same thing happened last night. I allowed her in.

  But I ruined it. I squashed the connection like a bug. Crushed it before it could take full bloom, suffocated the blossom of the feelings people share after they do what we did.

  She trusted me with her body last night when she allowed me to tie her up. What she didn’t realize was that she trusted me with more than that. She trusted me with trust. The element of trust. People don’t think of it as a concept that’s as important as love, friendship, compassion. It’s the same.

  We had sex twice before morning, when she woke in the early hours. It felt good to have her in my bed finally, but there was something different about her.

  Did she heed my warning? Don’t fall for me.

  I mustn’t fall for her either. It wouldn’t be hard to. I’m already on the edge.

  There are, however, so many reasons why I can’t love her. So many reasons why I shouldn’t. And she mustn’t give me her love either.

  We’re a contract. Love is a weakness I can’t afford
. Women are just women in my world.

  The women at the house last night were good examples, although I admit it’s clear that my cousin Matthew is in love with his wife. That’s his choice, and I’m happy for him. All the other men there with wives cheat. I hate it, but what did I think I was going to do?

  Marry Emelia and accept her as my wife the way you should, or would I have women on the side like most of the men in my family?

  Pa was not like that with my mother, and while my brothers are sex-crazed animals, I know when they love, they would love hard. The same way I would.

  That’s why I can’t do it, and I know that’s why they don’t either.

  Love burned my father. Love burned Tristan. The last thing I want to do is fall in love the way Pa did and lose my girl.

  With Emelia, it would be hard if I lost her or if I failed her in some way. I can’t live my life in fear.

  Fear makes you weak. As boss and as a member of the syndicate, I can’t be weak in any shape or form. Emelia was a plan that is unfolding nicely. The wedding is a week and a day away. Things are in motion. I’m about to have it all.

  I make my way back inside when my phone buzzes in my back pocket. Pa’s here. He wanted to see me.

  I just got back from the club. Emelia hasn’t seen me yet.

  Pa’s already lighting up a cigar in the sitting room when I get down there.

  I walk in and close the door. He wants to talk to me, but I need to talk to him too. The situation with Vlad is rubbing me the wrong way.

  “Hey, Pa,” I say, sitting opposite him.

  “Son, you look like shit.” He smirks, looking me over carefully.

  “I’ve seen better days.”

  “Talk to me. I’m all ears,” he offers.

  I sigh and run a hand through my hair. “I don’t know what to do about Vlad. I’m not sure if he’s still in LA. He doesn’t normally stay in one place for too long.”

  “There’s every possibility that he’s left. At the same time, he could still be here. It’s all a matter of why he’s here. He and the Shadows.”