Arranged Mafia Marriage

Theresa

The climax grips me, my orgasm pounds through me, and I come all over my fingers. That’s when he comes down my throat. I slump against him; my eyelids can’t seem to stay open. The next moment I am being hauled forward and onto his chest. I snuggle into the muscled expanse of his chest and drag my fingers through his hair. My hand brushes his temple and he winces.

“Oh, shoot. I brushed against your bandage,” I try to sit up, but he doesn’t let me.

“Fuck that,” he pulls me in and I curl up against him.

The heat from his body pours over me, surrounds me, cocoons me. I can’t stop the sigh of contentment that spills from my lips. He wraps those massive arms around me and tugs me even closer as I pillow my cheek against the hard ridge of his pec. “Tortiglioni,” I murmur, “it’s more like tortiglioni.”

“What?”

“Fat and thick with ridges across it.”

“Hmm,” he drawls, “are you talking about what I think you are?”

“Am I talking about your magnificent dick, you mean?” Barely are the words out, when I slap my hand over my mouth, “Forget I said that.” I squeeze my eyes shut.

“You think my dick is magnificent?” He chuckles and the vibrations crawl over my skin.

“Like you need any more praise to bloat your already swollen head.”

“You talking about the one on my shoulders?”

I sneak a glance up at him. “What else would I be talking about?”

His eyes gleam and I huff. “That was a terrible joke.”

“No more than you comparing my dick to a tortiglioni.”

“Hey, you’re the one who started it with your food porn talk.”

“Had to come up with a comparison to get you on the right track,” he explains.

“And how did I do?”

“You passed with flying colors.” He smirks. “In fact, I think you should move into this room with me so whenever the mood strikes, we can trade more food porn talk.”

“Hmm, no,” I glance around the room, “I don’t want to be the third wheel when you are ‘working out,'” I make air quotes with my fingers, “with Sheena.”

“So you met her, eh?”

“Not like I had a choice. She came to my room and introduced herself, and speaking of, I’d better get out of here before she comes back.”

“She’s not coming back tonight.” He tightens his arms around me. “I’m done with the physiotherapy sessions for the day, though I do need to have a bath.”

“So go have a bath,” I murmur.

“I am going to need help; I am not strong enough to bathe myself.”

“A likely story,” I huff.

“Would I lie to you?” His voice rumbles under my cheek.

“You know you’d lie to get your way with me every single time.” I sit up, and this time, he doesn’t stop me. I take in his features, the slight flush in his cheeks which hadn’t been there earlier, the way his hair is mussed up as if he’s been running his hands through it. Overall, he looks healthier and more relaxed. If I hadn’t seen him shot with my own eyes and then tried to stop him from crumpling to the ground, I wouldn’t have believed it myself. He looks so much healthier, so much more like Xander. I bite the inside of my cheek.

“What’s wrong?” He scowls, “What did you think just then?”

I shoot him an annoyed glance, “Jeez, can’t I have some privacy with my own thoughts, or what?”

“No,” he snaps, “tell me what went through your mind just then.”

“Xander,” I hunch my shoulders, “I couldn’t help thinking how much you look like him when you’re relaxed.”

“But I am not him.”

“Of course, I know that, and I have accepted it. In some ways, that makes it worse, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” I glance away. “I need to go.”

“Not until you tell me what you’re thinking about.”

I push off his chest, but he grabs my arm and hauls me close, “Look at me, Sunshine.”

I turn to glance at him. He peers into my features then nods, “Now, tell me what’s troubling you.”

“You,” I burst out. “You’re troubling me. I should be mourning Xander. Instead, I can’t stop myself from tumbling into bed with his triplet. One who looks so very like him. It feels like I am being unfaithful to his memory.”

He holds my gaze. “That’s understandable,” he finally says. “It hasn’t been that long since he died, so his memory is still fresh in your mind. But why did he not claim you as his when he was alive?”

I open and shut my mouth, “You know what? I am not having this conversation with you.” I try to pull away but his grip tightens.

“You’ll leave when I allow it.” The low hush of his voice causes that same strange feeling to coil in my chest.

“You’re not my keeper.” I scowl at him.

“But I am responsible for your safety.”

“You can barely take care of yourself, let alone-” I squeak as he flips me over and braces himself over me.

“Oh, wow,” I blink rapidly, “you’ve certainly made a lot of progress in the past few days.”

He leans his weight on his arms. His biceps tremble and he scowls. “Maybe not as much as I thought I had, apparently.”

Sweat breaks out on his forehead, and he finally lowers himself onto the bed next to me. “Damnit,” he growls, “I really need to speed up my recovery.”

I laugh, “Seriously, you have made tons of progress. You’re not a superhero, you know.”

“Aren’t I?” he grumbles.

“Oh, my god.” I turn and take in his features which have lost some of that healthy flush I’d noticed earlier. “Do you seriously think that you can be back on your feet so quickly after getting hit by a bullet.”

“I do.” He juts out his chin.

I burst out laughing. “You sound so confident, I almost believe you.”

“Everything is in your mind.” He taps his temple, the unhurt side, “If you believe in it, then it will happen.”

“Is that your motto?” I ask. “Is that what makes you tick? This belief that you can do anything you want?”

“You don’t believe me?”

I raise my shoulder, “I’ve had to fight hard for everything I want, so I am not sure what to believe.”

“What if I tell you that I can walk to the sofa?” He gestures to where a settee is pushed up against one wall of the bedroom, “and back.”

“Then I am sure you can.”

“Want me to prove it to you?” He repositions his sweats around his waist, rolls over to the side, then pushes up to sitting position.

“No, really, I don’t. Besides, I don’t think it’s safe for you to exert-”

He swings his legs over the side of the bed, then draws in a deep breath. “Here goes.” He pushes up to his feet, sways. I reach for him, but he rights himself. He takes a step forward and his legs tremble, but he stays standing. He takes another step, and another. His confidence seems to grow with each step he takes. He keeps his pace steady until he reaches the sofa, then sinks down onto it. He rolls his shoulders, his breathing heavy. He straightens his spine, raises his chin, and looks at me, “Well, what do you think?”

“I think,” I shake my head, “I think you are pushing yourself too hard.”

“Fuck that.” He rises to his feet. “I am going to walk back to you.”

“No, Axel, seriously, don’t-” But he’s already taking a step forward, then another. A third step and his body sways.

“Fuck,” he swears. His body trembles and he stumbles a little.

“Oh, hell.” I jump off the bed and walk over to him.

I reach for him, but he holds up his hand, “I can do this.”

“Let me help-”

“On my own,” he says through gritted teeth as he glares at the bed. “I am fine. I can walk without any one’s help.”

He chants it like it’s a mantra. It’s as if he believes if he says the words enough, they’ll become true. He takes another step, sways again from side to side. Sweat beads on his forehead, trickles down his temple. He takes another step and almost stumbles. I move toward him when he growls, “Fuck this.”

He pushes forward, placing one foot in front of the other quickly, until he reaches the bed, then collapses onto it face down. “Fuck,” he growls, the sound muffled against the mattress, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Hey,” I walk over and sit down on the bed next to him, “you okay?”

He doesn’t answer.

I touch his shoulder and my fingers come away wet with his sweat. His musky, earthy, male scent surrounds me and my nipples tighten. My core clenches. Goddamn, but this man is sex on a stick. I run my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. So soft, unlike the rest of him. I draw my fingers across his neck and over the ridge of his shoulder. His muscles bunch. I trail my finger down to the swell of his biceps. I poke at the muscle, which doesn’t give a millimeter. “Holy shit,” I whisper, “you really are a man of steel.”

He turns his head to glare at me, “I am no fucking Superman. In fact, I always hated the bastard.”

“I guess with your growliness and general grouchiness, you’re more of a shoo-in for Batman.”

“No thanks, not a fan of the bat ears.”

I walk my fingers down to his forearm and tug at the fine hair there.

“What are you doing?” he asks in a soft voice.

“Just, exploring.” Jeez, I really should take my hand off of him. I should turn around and leave while he’s still somewhat incapacitated, but if he’s truly exhausted from over-exerting himself, he’s not really a threat, is he?

I drag my fingers down to the back of his palm and trace the veins there. “Guess you work out a lot, huh? Your veins are so prominent.”

When he doesn’t reply, I glance up to find him watching me with a predatory look in his eyes.

“Oh, shit.” I pull back my hand, but he flips on his back and grabs my wrist. He tugs and I fall over onto the bed. “I… I…didn’t mean anything by that,” I swallow, “I was just curious.”

“Want to see what your touch can do to me, huh?” He moves up toward the headboard, then pulls me closer. He presses my palm to his chest and I feel the thud-thud-thud of his heart against my skin.

“Is your heart beating faster because of your earlier exertion?”

“You mean, when you sucked me off?”

“No,” I scoff as my face reddens, “I mean, because of your crazed walk to the sofa and back, trying to prove some god-knows-what point.”

“The point I was trying to prove is that I may be weaker than usual, but I am not defenseless.”

“Trust me, I’d never mistake you for that. Ever.”

“And my heart is beating faster than usual, due to your proximity.” His forehead furrows, “I can’t believe I said that.” He shakes his head, “I am not supposed to feel anything for you.”

“Gee, thanks,” I strive to keep my voice light even as my heart rate ratchets up. He feels something for me? OMG, he feels something for me! Is that good or bad? Considering, he’d shot at Christian, had threatened to hurt Aurora’s family until she agreed to help him out, oh, and he’d also lied to the Sovranos about Aurora wanting to kill Christian. All in all, he’s proven himself to be a psychopath and a sociopath, and a misogynist, and someone who would not hesitate to lie simply because it causes more trouble for everyone else involved. Exactly the kind of man I should avoid. The kind I find attractive. I bite the inside of my cheek. What does that say about me?

I should be going out of my way to avoid this guy. I should stay as far away from him as possible. I should turn around and leave right now, while I can, before I do something that I am going to regret for the rest of my life. I try to tug my wrist from his grasp, but he tightens his grip.

“Where do you think you are going, Sunshine?”

“Just t-to-to my room.” Goddamit, and now I am stuttering. Why the hell am I stuttering? It’s not because of his nearness. Definitely not because of the way he’s watching me with that intense gaze of his. Certainly not because the heat of his body surrounds me, overwhelms me, sinks into my blood and seems to coil in my lower belly. Absolutely not because he draws me closer to him…closer still. The tips of my feet bump against his. A shiver runs down my spine.

“Nervous?” he asks in a silken tone.

“N-no. Of-c-course, not.”

“So why are you stuttering?”

“I-It happens. I t-tend to s-stumble over my w-words sometimes.”

“Hmm,” he looks me up and down, “we can’t have that now, can we?” He tugs on my wrist and I squeak as I fall into him. He wraps his arm around my waist and holds me immobile.

“L-let-me g-go.”Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

“Give me one reason why?”

“B-because I don’t like you?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” He smirks.

“N-neither. I am stating a fact.”

“Liar.” He leans in and drags his nose up the side of my cheek. A shiver runs down my spine. He closes his lips around my earlobe, then bites down.

My entire body jolts. “Oh…hell,” I whisper, “what are you doing?”

“Trying to stop your stuttering.”

He drags his nose down my cheek then licks my lips.

My nipples tighten and my belly clenches. “Don’t do that,” I whisper. “Please don’t.”