Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

by M. Robinson

  “Well, if downing the drink wasn’t indication enough, let me count the ways. First, the last time you spoke to your intended, he told you to shut down your operation, and you told him to fuck off. Then immediately scheduled tonight’s event.”

  Until Simon Drakos met me, no one ever dared to tell him to fuck off without dire consequences.

  It was one of the first things I told him to do after discovering who he was a little over a year ago.

  Back then, I’d rather have shot him than marry him.

  We’d both broken so many of our hard-and-fast rules of life when it came to each other. He’d softened for me, letting me see a side of the hard man no one else saw. And I’d given him all my secrets, knowing he’d keep them safe.

  “Intended? Can you make it sound any more archaic?”

  “We’re Greek. We’re nothing if not traditionalist, especially families like yours.”

  She meant the syndicate ones who ran many of the trade and shipping routes on the east and west coasts of the United States.

  They ran by deals, rules, and customs set and followed from the time everyone lived in Greece.

  I’d had my chance to escape that world, and instead I’d run headfirst into it by falling for the head of one of the most powerful families.

  Idiot.

  “I won’t let him cage me.”

  “Then you should have stuck to the bargain you made when you first met.”

  “I really wish I never told you about it.”

  As the first daughter born into the Mykos family in four generations, I had an obligation to fulfill a marriage contract negotiated by the heads of the Mykos and Drakos families nearly a hundred years ago. The agreement stated that my Great Aunt Julia would marry the eldest Drakos son, and in exchange, the families would divide a large Swiss trust. The marriage never occurred since Julia ran away with her bodyguard and essentially started a long-running feud between the Mykos and Drakos families.

  The last thing I’d wanted was to marry anyone, so I’d arranged for a meeting with Simon to negotiate terms to gain my freedom from the shackles of a life I’d fought tooth and nail to escape.

  However, Simon had learned of my underground clubs and used them as leverage against me. One year in his bed for my freedom and his silence.

  As fucked-up as our situation started, I couldn’t imagine being with anyone but the asshole. And now here I was, going through with a damn farce of a wedding that my family still wasn’t quite sure I’d even show up to.

  Simon and I hadn’t seen each other in nearly three weeks, and the last time we spoke was five days ago when the incident with my choice of words had occurred.

  It was only a matter of hours until I would have to deal with the aftermath of that conversation.

  Yeah, I needed to push him back into the box of things to think about later. At the moment, I had a room full of millionaires, billionaires, movie stars, and the like expecting a good time.

  “You did tell me about that bargain,” Penny said. “And I can use it against you. Now should I continue my list?”

  “Go right ahead,” I muttered, as if I was going to be able to stop her.

  “Second on our list is that your family, meaning my extended in-laws, think we are on our way to New York for a Christmas gala in the Hamptons.”

  I held in a sigh.

  Attending the Christmas Gala at the Morelli mansion in Bishops Landing meant only one thing for me: The start of all the crazy family antics that would last until my New Year’s wedding.

  “Third,” Penny continued. “You’re using a property owned by your overprotective cousin, my husband, for a game night. Which he is clueless about. And fourth, you’ve checked the door three times in the last hour as if you’re expecting one person in particular to appear.”

  Penny’s husband, Hagen Lykaios, was one of my three cousins in Las Vegas, related to me through my mother’s side of the family. Luckily for me, the Lykaios brothers were protective but not insane like my four brothers when it came to watching over me. And as long as I continued to perform well as the managing horticulturist in the botanical garden at the Ida Casino, no one was the wiser about my other activities.

  Well, Penny and the other two Lykaios wives, Amelia and Henna, knew. But that was because they enjoyed betting in an underground game or two, and they could keep secrets.

  “I only checked the door once,” I corrected, trying to resist the urge to look at it again.

  “Once is more than you normally do.”

  She was right. I hired the best when it came to security.

  If my six-foot-three, gorgeous green-eyed Greek showed up, nothing would stop him.

  “What’s actually worrying you?”

  I remained quiet for a moment before saying, “In addition to telling my fiancé to fuck off, I had a courier deliver my rings to him with a note attached saying the same words.”

  A decision, I’d regretted within minutes of handing off the package to the courier.

  “But aren’t you guys already—”

  “Yes,” I responded, cutting her off.

  “Then why would you do that? It’s not as if you changed anything.”

  “He pissed me off.”

  “A bit dramatic, even for you.”

  I shot her a glare over my shoulder. “You’re one to talk, Miss I-flew-to-a-Greek-island-because-my-man-hurt-my-feelings. Besides, as you like to remind me, we’re Greek. We have tempers.”

  “Whatever. All I can say is good luck to you when Simon gets you alone.”

  “Hopefully, if my luck holds out, it won’t be until after the gala tomorrow night.”

  “Keep dreaming, Mykos. As soon as Hagen learns we never landed in New York, Simon’s going to know.”

  I glanced at my watch. “Our flight isn’t expected to land for another two hours.”

  “The shit I get into with you.”

  “I’ve kept your life interesting for the last few years.” I glanced toward my lead dealer, who tilted her head to the left. “This set is about to end. Let me go freshen up, and then I want to play a few rounds. Maybe it will help the night go faster.”

  “I’m always willing to take your money, Mykos.”

  “Keep dreaming, Lykaios.”

  Chapter Two

  Around five in the morning, I stepped out onto the central balcony of the penthouse and sighed. The outdoor heaters warmed the space, keeping the cold at bay long enough to enjoy the giant terrace.

  Decembers in Vegas got cold. Not New York City cold, but cold.

  My body ached from head to toes, and all I wanted to do was sleep for a few hours. The last of the cleaning crew had left, and the suite was clear of any evidence connected to the poker club.

  I drank down the glass of water I held before setting it on a nearby table.

  Yawning, I stretched my arms above my head. I’d better get in a few hours of sleep before my eleven a.m. flight to New York.

  I’d sent Penny home to Hagen right after the games ended, a little after two, to head off the explosion that was his temper from learning our plane landed in New York without us. And I’d called my family to calm them down.

  Then there was Simon.

  Thinking of his name sent a shiver down my spine.

  I’d called him, but couldn’t get hold of him, and he hadn’t responded to any of my texts. Which only meant he either learned before Hagen that we’d never gotten on the flight or about the game and was pissed to holy hell.

  I’d try calling him one more time before I crashed.

  That was when I heard the distinct sound of ice in a tumbler, and I froze.

  Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I turned slowly and locked eyes with piercing green ones.

  Shit.

  Of course, he’d gotten into the penthouse without me knowing. What the hell was the point of having the best security if everyone was scared of him?

  He leaned against the doorframe, one hand in his pocket as the other swi
rled his drink.

  He wore dark denim jeans and a fitted long-sleeve Henley shirt that accentuated the muscled body underneath. His hair looked as if he’d run his fingers through it a few times, a sharp contrast to how he wore it on a normal basis, but it looked stylish and made him seem young and almost approachable. That was until you studied his eyes and saw danger and calculation.

  The very eyes trained on me and telling me without words that I was in so much trouble.

  And instead of being terrified as any normal person would be, my nipples beaded, and I had the urge to squeeze my thighs together.

  His lips quirked at the side as if he’d read my body’s reaction.

  The pull toward him was visceral and had pissed me off in the beginning. Now, I accepted it.

  He loved playing up his devil-in-the-dark reputation of showing up to exact his wrath when someone least expected it. Now, it seemed it was my turn.

  I opened my mouth to say something, but he put a finger to his lips. “You don’t get to talk. You’ve said plenty, especially in your note. Now, it’s my turn.”

  Goosebumps immediately prickled my skin, and I couldn’t help but press myself against the half-wall that made up the balcony railing.

  “What does ‘fuck off’ exactly mean?”

  He took a step toward me, pausing to set his drink on a side table and then continuing in my direction.

  “As far as I’m concerned, the only one getting fucked is you. Your mouth, your cunt, your ass.”

  He moved closer as if he was a predator stalking his prey.

  “Si—”

  “You’re going to listen and follow directions. Then, if I’m satisfied, I’ll let you talk. Just because you’re the only woman I’ve ever bent for, doesn’t mean I’m not the asshole you first met. Loving you doesn’t change who I am at the core. I’m still the bastard who blackmailed you into sleeping with me for your freedom. If you want me to treat you like him, I will.”

  He’d tried to scare with this type of bullshit from the beginning. It had almost worked. That was until I saw the man underneath the shell.

  It wasn’t going to work now.

  I lifted my chin, daring him.

  When he was right in front of me, he gripped my jaw, tilting it up. “Do you think sending me the rings changes anything? There is no out for you. Our families have a hundred million reasons for this marriage.”

  I narrowed my gaze, ready to respond, but he pushed his thumb into my mouth, holding my tongue down.

  “And even after the big ceremony, you don’t get out of it because you’re mine. I told you to run as far away from me as possible. You had your fucking freedom. You could have walked away, but you chose me.” He released my tongue and then traced my lips before shifting his hold from my face to my throat, giving it a light squeeze as his other hand gripped my waist. “There is no going backward in this relationship. I will fuck you, use you. You’re my wife, my whore, and anything else I want you to be.”

  My heartbeat accelerated, and I swallowed as a chill went down my spine and my core contracted.

  “Right now, you’re my whore. Get on your knees.”

  If it wasn’t for the blaze in his green irises, I’d believe he felt nothing for me. Something I recognized as the way he handled hurt and pain.

  Similar to the mask he’d worn the day he’d ended our arrangement and told me to make a life away from him. And just like tonight, his eyes had given away his true feelings.

  “Nyx, I gave you an order.”

  “We—”

  He increased the pressure on my throat, cutting off my words. “Do it, or I’ll make you.”

  Releasing a shallow breath, I lowered, the skin of my knees pressing into the rough surface of the cement of the terrace.

  He fisted my hair in a painful hold. “Take me out.”

  This was going to be punishing. I had no doubt.

  Immediately, I followed his directions, pushing up his shirt and freeing his engorged, weeping length from his jeans. I fisted him at the root and then pumped up and down.

  I craved the taste of him, even when he pissed me off. Of course, I shouldn’t want him to this level, especially when he behaved like this, but then again, we weren’t a conventional couple.

  Brushing my hands away, he grabbed hold of his cock and positioned the tip at my mouth, a bead of precum coating my lips. “Open.”

  I’d barely followed his order when he pushed in, hitting the back of my throat and forcing me to swallow to keep from gaging.

  He groaned, and the hold in my hair tightened as he began a brutal, relentless pace. I could do nothing but clutch his jean-covered thighs, knowing he controlled this situation.

  His hips rocked back and forth as I closed my tear-soaked eyes and lost myself in the rhythm of his movements.

  “Oh no, you don’t. Open your eyes. I own your mouth, and you are going to watch as I take it.”

  I lifted my lids, staring into his angry, desire-clouded eyes. His movements grew faster, and his breath grew more and more ragged.

  God, he was a stunning man.

  A tingle shot into my pussy, and the need to touch myself overwhelmed me.

  Before I could go through with my impulse, a rumble came from the back of his throat, and he gritted out, “Take every drop and don’t look away.”

  In the next second, he clenched his eyes tight, throwing his head back, and came in hot, deep spurts, making me gasp for air and swallow at the same time. He continued to thrust, working the rest of his orgasm.

  When the pistoning of his hips finally stopped, he pulled free of my mouth and used his thumb to collect the cum that had dripped on my chin and then pushed it into my mouth.

  “Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are? No man in his right mind would ever let you go.”

  Loosening his grip on my hair, he straightened his clothes and then offered me his hand.

  I couldn’t help but wince as I rose. The hard surface of the terrace had done a number on my knees.

  The calculated quirk of Simon’s lips told me he wanted it to hurt, giving me visions of punching him.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he said as he pulled me toward him, pinning my arms at the base of my back. “I know all of your tricks.”

  “You don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

  He walked me backward until he had me trapped between him and the balcony railing. “I know everything about you. And sending me the rings told me you wanted my undivided attention. Now you have it. What do you want to tell me, Nyx? Besides ‘fuck off.’”

  “That I don’t respond well to orders.”

  “Liar.” He shifted my wrists to one hand and then ran a finger over my swollen lips before brushing his mouth against them. “What happened only moments ago proves it. And if I check your pussy, I bet I’d find it dripping.”

  “That’s not the same thing, and you know it.”

  “It’s still a lie.” He traced his fingertips down the column of my throat, over the open neck of my dress, across my abdomen, only stopping when he reached the hem at my thigh.

  “You don’t scare me.” I jerked my arms, but his grip was too firm.

  “Another lie.” His palm pushed under the fabric above my knee. “You gave up your freedom to stay with me, and now you want to run. What does that say?”

  “I hate you,” I said through gritted teeth and immediately cried out as he slid inside my underwear and cupped me between my legs, intensifying the pulsing deep in my core.

  “Another lie. Would your cunt drip like this for someone you hated?”

  “Simon, please. I don’t want to do this right now.”

  “Too bad. You don’t have a choice.” He teased my wet pussy lips, stroking up and down and causing me to whimper.

  “I can’t think when you’re touching me like this.”

  “Do you ache? Do you need to come?”

  “Sssimon,” I moaned.

  “That’s not an answ
er.”

  “Yes, please.”

  He plunged a finger deep into my core, followed by another, and then a third, making me gasp and my body bow. The pleasure-pain of it was almost too much for me to handle, and if Simon wasn’t holding me up, my legs would have given out.

  He pumped in and out, working me in a way meant to drive my need higher and higher.

  I couldn’t help but rock against his wicked hand as a sheen of sweat broke out over my brow. His thumb strummed my clit, bringing me closer to the peak I needed to go over.

  Just as I felt the spasms of the muscles deep in my pussy, he eased his tempo, dropping me out of the release I needed so desperately.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You know exactly what.”

  Tears burned the back of my throat. “I do hate you.”

  “Look me in the eyes and say it.”

  He knew damn well I couldn’t do it.

  “Asshole,” I muttered, turning my face away from him.

  “I never denied it.” Simon’s thumb circled my aching clit, causing a desperate sob to escape from my lips. “But you’re the one who came back after I set you free. After I told you I wasn’t the type of man you deserved.”

  He started thrusting again and brought me to the cusp of release two more times before he pulled out of my body, licked his fingers, and released his hold on me.

  I braced myself against the railing and gasped for air as tears streamed down my face. “Simon, let me come.”

  “No. You don’t get to come. Only my wife gets to come. And you don’t seem to want that role.”

  “That’s not true. I fucking married you.”

  “But now that it’s about to go public, you’re getting cold feet.”

  “You have no idea what it feels like to get a taste of freedom and then have to give it up again.”

  Something passed in his eyes before he masked it. “You’re right. I don’t. But you forget something. None of us are truly free, least of all me.”

  He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his wedding band, the one I’d given him during our secret wedding.

  “Did you know the only time I’ve ever had any freedom is with you? So here, I’m just returning the favor.” He set the ring on a table near him and left the terrace.