Arranged Mafia Marriage

I walk over to him and lace my fingers with his. “That was almost poetic.”

“More like intellectual masturbation, but then, you like men who are introspective, I take it. Those who are in touch with their emotions and all that shit.”

I try to pull away from him, but he doesn’t let go.

“That’s why you like The-Actor-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, isn’t it?”

“You’re like him, you know,” I say, more to throw him off balance than anything else.

He looks askance. “Me? Nah.”

“No, really. That’s what I thought the first time I saw you-that you’re hot, and sexy, and bear more than a passing resemblance to him.”

“You think I’m hot and sexy?” His lips curl in a smirk.

Of course, he pretends he didn’t hear the last part of what I said.

“Forget I said that; it’s only going to swell your already Texas-sized head.”

He laughs. “You say the most random things.”

“So I’ve been told.” I glance around the space. “Are you going to take me to see the frescoes?”

After admiring the ancient paintings in the next room, we leave the spectacular, dome-shaped building, and drive down the hill on which it’s located. We pass through the old town, and back onto the road that curves through the mountainside, with the blue waters of the sea crashing on the shores not far below. The ride takes my breath away. He follows the winding route up another hill and toward a structure that was built overlooking the waves below.

He escorts me from the car, pausing only to pull a picnic basket out of the boot before guiding me to the gorgeous, white-washed bungalow with pink and white bougainvillea trees flowering around it.

The two cars with the security detail drive up and park at opposite ends of the circular driveway.

When I ask Seb about the basket, he explains that Francesco put it together. He guides me to the door of the bungalow, which is opened by a man who introduces himself as the caretaker. He welcomes us inside, then leaves the house. Seb leads me through the luxurious, yet comfortably-furnished rooms, then up the stairs and to a sheltered patio on the upper floor. I take one look at the view and gasp. The old town is stretched out below us. Beyond that, the translucent waters of the harbor are encircled by the curving hill with homes built into it. The sky is dotted with clouds that already blush with the setting sun.

I turn to find he’s laid out a thick blanket. On it, is a bottle of prosecco chilling in a bucket, with two prosecco flutes next to it. There’s a plate of cheese, another with pickled artichokes, sun-dried tomatoes and olives, and a third with flatbreads.

“This is quite the spread,” I murmur as I walk over to him.

He glances up from placing a bowl of figs, grapes and walnuts, and another with what seems like some kind of jam, next to the flatbreads.

“It’s a snack.” He pats the rug next to him. “Sit with me, Princess.”

I step out of my shoes, then sink down beside him and place my handbag next to me. He puts his arm around me and draws me close. I rest my head on his shoulder, and let the silence wash over me. It’s hard to believe we are less than half an hour away from the town center we left behind, and only a few hours out of Palermo.

He pulls me closer and I sink into that wall-like chest. I draw in a breath, and the brine of the sea, laced with the darker, edgier scent of him, teases my nostrils.

“You like being in the Mafia?” I bite my tongue almost as soon as the words are out. What kind of a question is that, anyway?

To his credit, he doesn’t seem offended. “It’s the only life I know,” he admits. “Michael and I were close growing up. He had a lot of responsibilities thrust on him from a very young age. I’m the closest in age to him, so I understood how it felt to try to protect our brothers from the wrath of our father.”

I glance up at him. “Your father… Was he-”

“He was a bastard.” Seb stares into the distance. “My mother was his mistress. When she passed, he took us in. Any gratefulness I felt toward him dissipated when I realized he was an abusive motherfucker. His wife-Michael and Luca’s mother-was too weak to stand up to him. Michael, being the oldest of us, took the brunt of his beatings, until he grew physically strong enough to defend himself. He tried to protect us from our father’s wrath, but he wasn’t always around. When he turned eighteen, he went to LA to study. In the period of time before we went to join him, our father had free reign. He took out his anger at having Michael escape him by beating up me and Luca, who were the next in age.”

“You and Adrian are half-brothers to the rest of the Sovranos?”

“We’re half-brothers to Michael and Luca; Christian, Axel, and Xander are half-brothers to all of us. They had a different mother from Michael and Luca’s mother, and from my and Adrian’s mother.”NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

I widen my gaze. “Your father sure did get around, eh?”

“Bastardo couldn’t keep it in his pants,” Seb agrees.

“So, you and Michael seem to share a special relationship.”

“Well, I’m the older sibling, and so is he. We didn’t realize that Christian, Axel and Xander shared a different mother until very recently. Luca always had a chip on his shoulder for not being born as the older son. He’s always wanted to be Don, for as long as I can remember.”

“And now you’re handing over your title as Capo to him.”

“Michael should have made him Capo when he took over as Don from our father. I never really wanted the title.”

“You don’t strike me as someone who’s selfless.” My forehead furrows.

“Oh, trust me, there’s nothing particularly selfless about this. My aim has always been to look beyond the Mafia, to bring us into the next century, so to speak.”

“Hence, the venture into media and tech?” I interject.

“You were listening in on our conversation?” He doesn’t seem upset about it.

“Hard not to listen, considering you guys were talking right in front of me.”

“And what do you think of it?”

“Of what?” I blink.

“Of my heading up Trinity Enterprises with the Kane Company and the Bratva, and starting a media venture of my own.”

“You’re asking me?” I sit up. “You want my opinion?”

“You’re my wife. Of course, I want your opinion.”

I glance down to where my hand rests on his chest. The ring he gave me catches the sun’s rays.

Did Fabio ask my opinion on anything? No, he’d been a typical Italian male, or so I’d thought. Right from the start, he told me he expected me to be a stay-at-home wife to take care of our child and make sure there was a hot dinner waiting for him when he came home. It had been a one-way conversation, that one. No wonder it came as a shock when he discovered my other proclivities.

And now, here’s Seb. Also an Italian male. And a Mafia guy, at that. I guess I expected him to be similar. Even though our marriage is only an arrangement, on some level, I thought he’d have the same expectations. At every turn, though, he surprises me. He’s shown himself to be far from the chauvinist I pegged him for. Oh sure, he’s dominant and has a big ego, but he’s also fair and sensitive to my needs. And now, he’s asking for my opinion on a possible career shift?

I shake my head. “Are you sure you’re for real?”

He laughs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Forget it.” I glance away.

“No, tell me.” He notches his knuckles under my chin and tilts my head in his direction. “I want to know.” In a firm voice, he adds, “No secrets, Princess. What was that about?”

“You’re so dominant, and yet, you’re surprisingly… considerate,” I finally say.

“Because I asked your opinion on something?”

“Not something. This is a big deal for you, Seb. I get it. You’ve probably spent a lot of time trying to work out how to make this parallel move, so to speak. And you have the opportunity now, but you ask me for my opinion on it.” I shake my head. “It’s mind boggling.”

“You’re my life-partner. It shouldn’t surprise you that I ask you to weigh in on changes I’m thinking of making that could affect not only the two of us, but also our daughter.”

I know I’m gaping at him, but I can’t stop myself. “Are you always this thoughtful? This is a chance for you to pursue your dream career, but you’re still thinking of how it would impact me and my daughter?”

“Our daughter,” he corrects me. “Why are you so surprised? You should know by now, I’ll always do what’s best for the two of you, I-”

I throw my arms around him. Honestly, I surprise even myself with the intensity with which I cling to him. “You are incredible, you know that?” I bury my nose in the space between his neck and his shoulder. I draw in a huge lungful of his scent, and hold my breath. I’ll never get tired of how good it feels to be plastered to him, to push my breasts into his rock-hard chest, and cling to him.

He rubs my back and it’s both soothing and arousing. That’s the thing. That’s what’s different with this guy. Right from the beginning, I’ve inherently trusted him. I feel safe with him. For the first time since Avery was born, it doesn’t feel like the ground below my feet is unsteady. I feel reassured, like I can finally look forward to the future with some level of confidence. Like I can breathe. Like I’m not slowly getting strangled under the weight of my worries. And yet… I’m going to betray him. I shouldn’t feel this secure with him when, ultimately, it’s not his actions but my own which are going to secure a future for my daughter and myself, right? Tell him, tell him now. Tell him everything and ask him to help you. And what guarantee do you have that he won’t turn on you then? What if he gets upset that you’ve kept the truth from him this far? What if he decides to walk away from you? Then you’ll have lost your one chance to ensure Avery is safe. I glance up into his face to find him staring down at me. I reach up and press my lips to his. He doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t return the kiss. He simply stays still as I dart my tongue inside his mouth. I swipe my tongue over his teeth, and a groan rumbles up his chest.

His chest planes flex, and bam-bam-bam, I feel his heart rate ratchet up. That only emboldens me more. I wind my arms around his neck, tilt my head and deepen the kiss. I suck on his tongue, and begin to grind myself on the thick column between his legs.

Another growl vibrates up his throat. Then he cups my butt and squeezes. A shudder runs up my spine. A pulse flares to life between my legs and I squeeze my thighs around his waist. I try to kiss him even more thoroughly. That’s when he flips me over so my back is on the rug, and his weight presses down on me. Without breaking the kiss, he stares into my eyes, then unhooks my arms from around his neck, twists my arms up and above my head, and shackles my wrists together with one hand. He slides the other hand between us and I hear the sound of his belt being unbuckled, his zipper being lowered. He shoves my panties aside, and the next moment, he’s inside of me.

One second, I’m empty. The next, he’s filling me, stretching me, as his thickness scrapes against my inner walls. He’s so big, so deep inside that I swear, I can feel every single ridge of his cock. He stays there for a second, even as his shaft throbs inside of me. He tears his lips from mine, and without taking his gaze off of me, he pulls out. He stays there, poised at my opening, with his dick nudging my slit. Then he lunges forward with enough force that my entire body jolts. He stays there, with his balls pressed against my inner thighs, before he begins to move. Out and in and out again. Every time he fucks me, I move up the rug a little. There’s a muffled thud as something hits the ground next to us, the prosecco bottle, probably, but neither of us glance away. He doesn’t take his gaze off of mine for a second. Those golden-brown eyes of his are ablaze with so much emotion. So much everything. My throat closes, and a tear squeezes out from the corner of my eye. He bends, licks it up, and for some reason, that’s so erotic and so intimate, I can’t stop more tears from streaming.

He pulls out, then lunges forward with such force that he hits that special spot deep inside of me. I lock my ankles around his waist and he brings his hand down to cup my face. He peers into my eyes as he slides his thumb inside my mouth. At the same time, he drills into me again, and he goes so deep, I swear, I can feel him in my throat. Another sob wells up, even as the climax swells from our point of contact. It shudders up my spine as he slams into me again and again. The orgasm rips through me and I gasp. A cry wells up. He closes his mouth over mine, and swallows it, even as he continues to fuck me through the climax. My entire body shudders, my core clenches down around his dick. He brings his hand down to squeeze my nipple as he thrusts forward and inside me. I tilt my hips up trying to take him in even deeper. That’s when his muscles go solid. His shoulders shudder, as he growls and comes inside me.