Page 53

Chapter 53

Nova

Massimo kicks the door shut. He's carrying me bridal style and hasn't stopped kissing me since he scooped me up after we signed the marriage license.

The marriage license, which I know is fake. Because the head enforcer of the Santoro mafia being legally ordained to perform real, binding marriage ceremonies is just a bit too much to truly believe.

And even though I know the stunning ring Massimo slipped on my finger really isn't mine to keep…I let myself believe the lie for now.

Because the way Massimo looked at me… The way he growled my wife… is demanding me to not overthink this.

I tear at his clothes, needing them off. Right. Now.

I pull on his tie to undo it from the precise knot, then whip it off. I'm half of the mind to ask him to use it to tie me up, but I can't formulate words right now. The only sound I can manage right now is a growl of frustration as I fight with the buttons of his shirt.

Giving up, I fist the material and rip. The buttons fly with the sound of shredding material.

Massimo makes a sound akin to a wild animal and tosses me onto the bed. As soon as I land, I scramble onto my knees as he fights with his suit jacket, shoving it off, then drags his ruined shirt off.

His hair is mussed. His dark brown eyes are wild. He looks on the verge of losing control.

I love this version of him .

The one he doesn't let anyone else see.

His movements are jerky as he undoes his pants, then pushes them down to free his iron-length. It stands hard against his chiseled abs, and my core clenches.

He's massive and beautiful. Every inch of him. And he's mine.

For now .

I shove that intrusive thought away.

"Come get what's yours. Husband ."

I love calling him that as much as I love him calling me his wife.

That decimates the last of his calm and control.

And he's on me like a force of nature.

My clothes stand no chance. They're shredded.

I don't even get to breathe before he's pinned me to the bed and slammed into me, full force, and to the hilt.

His pubic bone grinds into my clit, his balls slap my ass cheeks, and I might be bleeding from the force of his invasion into my tight channel. But I'm as incensed as he is, and I claw his back to get him closer.

I need him. I need everything he's giving me. I need everything he's taking from me.

I want to burrow under his skin and never leave. I want to walk through every fire of hell that I need to in order to be with him. I want the love I feel for him to be reciprocated, even if it's a sliver of what I feel.

I lose myself in him and his conquering of my body. As he claims my soul. I buck up to meet him thrust for thrust until we're both sweating and panting.

"I want your cum." My nails break his skin and drag down, scoring his back. Marking him.

"You'll get it all." His thrusts get impossibly harder and wilder. "I'm going to fill your tight little cunt." He bites my breast, then licks it to soothe the sting. "It's going to overflow with cum while still stuffed with my big cock." He hauls both my legs over his shoulder, and stars erupt when he hammers back in. I can't breathe as he hits that spot over and over again. "And then I'm going to do it all over again."

My body arches, taut and ready to explode .

"You'll be big and round with my child. Because I will fuck a baby into you."

My entire body seizes. With shocked disbelief, and for my orgasm making landfall as a Category Five hurricane.

I scream as the euphoric storm hits, slamming into me, and then carrying me away like I'm caught in the torrential, turbulent winds.

I'm suspended in ecstasy and bliss. I've never felt so free or so strong.

I reach for the one who is giving me pleasure that rockets me to another plane. Who is giving me strength—to find my own strength, to nurture my fire and fight—and to help me heal.

"Massimo." I need and want him so much it terrifies me.

"I'm here, princess." He kisses me. "My hellcat… My queen."

My eyes open to him looming over me—my massive monster, my beautiful beast. The weapon at my disposal to wield against my father.

"Give your wife your cum, husband."

He jerks, and pained pleasure coats his features at my words and the command.

With one final thrust—that feels like the door has slammed shut on any options of a future without him—he erupts. True to his claim, he fills me with his cum, and I feel it overflow around his shaft buried deep inside me, leaking down my crease and onto the bed.

"Mine," he growls.

I close my eyes to the pain that flares with his beautiful lie.

But I'll let myself try to believe it, if only for a short time, until my father's threat against the Santoros is destroyed.

I pull his face down to mine, needing to forget, if only for now, the painful reality that we don't have a forever. "You promised me two rounds, husband."

His chuckle is dark and deep against my lips. "That I did , my wife."

Massimo is trying to kill me. With sex .

It's been over twenty-four hours since we 'got married', and we haven't left his bedroom. I've lost count of the number of orgasms I've had or the times I've been stuffed with his cum.

I mean, I'm not complaining, but…holy hell.

"Come on, princess."

I groan at the delicious ache of my body as he lifts me.

When he walks us into the ensuite, my brows pinch in confusion at the steam-filled room and the huge tub that is filled with water. "How…? When?"

He chuckles, kissing my forehead. "I prepared the bath when someone was passed out after her last orgasm."

I sniff the air. "Is that lavender?"

"And rosemary oil."

He steps into the tub, and I moan as he lowers us into the water, submerging my wonderfully aching body. He kisses my forehead again, then arranges my body between his legs with my back to his front. "Relax now. The oils will help with any inflammation and soreness from our marathon of sex."

God, he's not wrong about the marathon of sex.

"Did you study botanical medicine on top of nutrition?" I tease, relaxing further as the heat and oil go to work.

The deep rumble of his laugh rolls through me, and I decide that's the best sound I've experienced in my entire life.

He moves my hair to the side and nuzzles my neck. "No, princess, I'm just an uneducated Don."

I snort. "You have a PhD in criminal underworld ruling and domination; you can't really get that at university."

"Hmm, you'd be surprised." His hands swirl through the water and cup my breasts. With their small size and his large hands, they all but disappear. "What do you want to do with your life, wife?"

My core and my heart clench when he calls me that.

But his question is a sober reality of how oppressed and controlled I was under my father's suffocating rule. "I've never allowed myself to even think about it. "

"You have the opportunity to do whatever you want, Nova. Any ideas of what that may be?"

My throat closes, but I force the words out. "To help women like my mother escape before it's too late."

Massimo stills, yet it feels like he's pulling me even closer, like he's trying to absorb me into him to shield me. "I'm sorry your mother couldn't be saved, Nova."

"Me, too." Tears fill my eyes, and I don't want to talk about this further. "Who is Vincenzo Pisani?" I ask suddenly, though I'm unsure where the question came from.

Massimo lifts and turns me so I straddle him, and he studies me. "Does that name mean something to you?"

"I don't know." I frown as there's a tingle of recognition, as if it's somehow connected to my mother. Like it's a blurred memory, but I can't get it to come into focus.

"Vincenzo is the Don of a family in Italy," Massimo explains. "He's a descendent of the founding family of the 'Ndrangheta."

Then there's no way my mother knew him. Our outings and travel were restricted to Boston. And coming from two different and rival mafia syndicates, Vincenzo would've never been a guest in the house, coming to see my father.

Yet… There's still something there. That vague recollection of a connection with my mother, but it starts to disappear if I focus to hard on it.

"Why was he here?"

"He was trying to get proof that I have you." At my confused look, he explains, "There were 'Ndrangheta Dons that voted against me killing your father; Vincenzo was one of them."

I gnaw on my lip. "So that's why the marriage?" Fake marriage, but I leave that out, not wanting to hear the actual word that will shatter the illusion I'm currently allowing myself to be under.

"They won't take you from me." His tone is fierce and sure. "I've promised you that your father would never get you back. You're free of him and his reign of terror."

"Not yet." A shudder wracks through me .

He cups my face, staring deep into my eyes. "Would you like to know how I dream of Silvestro Mancini's death?"

"Yes," I whisper, falling into the darkness in his eyes.

"He'll be beaten and broken. His skin flayed. I'll drop him at your feet; at your mercy but you'll have none to give." His thumb rubs along my jaw, and I shiver. "You'll slide a knife into his heart. Then, while he still draws breath, I will cut off his head."

I stare at Massimo.

Not in shock. Not in disgust. Not in horror.

I stare at him in lust—and in love.

And in that moment, I willingly and completely accept his darkness as it melds with the dark of my own soul.