Page 20 of The Mafia’s Bride (The Women of the Mafia #1)

But the bigger part wants to crack open Sloane’s heart, peer into the darkness and see every hurt. Take all those broken, black pieces, examine them, see what has hurt her before and fix it. Show her that someone will always be here, always love her.

I swallow hard.

Only a few weeks, a handful of meetings, and I’m a simpering fool for this fallen angel.

My hands travel lower, over her belly button, to the small scrap of lace she calls panties and rub along her seam. Her hips buck sharply, instinctively, begging for more.

I watch her face. Her eyes are half open, green gone under the black of her pupils as she stares at my finger, lips parted.

A haze of lust coats her chest and cheeks, the pale pink a reminder of our wedding colors.

My hand goes back, sensing the wetness there and I add a slight pressure against her clit.

She whimpers and it’s like hearing an angel sing.

“Sloane, look at the mess you’re making.” I pull my finger back, holding it to her face. Wetness glistens under the soft hotel lights. “Clean it.”

She glares but her face is too flushed, body too primed to explode. I’ve barely touched her but the command, the dominance, is doing something to this woman.

She wants the commands, she wants to be made to do it.

“Do I need to take you over my knee?” I challenge, eyebrow raised. My cock twitches at the idea of marking her pale flesh. “Don’t test me, little menace. You’re not in charge here.”

She snorts, but it’s a facade. “You’re certainly not in charge.”

“No?”

Swiftly, I’ve thrown her over the vanity, her plump ass into the air. Within seconds, the strips of her panties are torn, the fabric fluttering to the floor, the sting of pain causing a hiss to release through her red lips.

“In this marriage, menace, I’m the one who commands you. And, if you behave,” my hand massages her ass, spreading her cheeks wider, “I’ll let you command me. But not before you learn to follow my word.”

Her violent eyes look at me in the mirror, daring me to do more. “Fuck you. And fuck your control.”

I laugh, the sound echoing around us.

There’s more here than simple stubbornness. She’s lashing out at me, at her clan for always forcing her to follow the rules.

My wife doesn’t like rules, but I’ll need her loyalty—inside our marriage and outside it.

One harsh slap falls to the left side and she shrieks. Quickly, my hand rubs away the burn, easing the pain. “One. How many more do you need to change your tune?”

Sloane heaves, breasts jiggling over the vanity top. “Did you just spank me?” She tries to push up, but my hand goes to her neck, keeping her firmly down. Her cheek presses into the wood, so she can only see me in the mirror. “What the fuck, Alessio?”

“We’re married now, Sloane. You can call me Lex. Now. Who do you belong to?”

She curses me, trying to search for the knife. Thankfully, it fell to the ground, stabbing directly into the plush carpet below our feet. “Not to fucking you. ”

Another harsh slap, the sting vibrating into my hand. “Wrong. The contract gave me complete control of your life. I’m to provide you with financial security, physical safety, and happiness in any way I can. That means I own you.” Another solid hit that has her legs bucking and her knees shaking.

Fuck, I can see her arousal dripping down her leg.

Seeing my handprint on her ass, feeling how incredibly turned on she is, how she’s breaking for me, turns on the manic, primal part of my soul. I want to claim her, keep her, so she never leaves.

I lean down, dragging my tongue against the red skin, kissing away the aches. Her body trembles, and I know her makeup is ruined, tears rolling down her cheeks. Just like I told her would happen.

This is a woman used to walking over people to get her way. Used to people avoiding her because of her temper, using her for a quick photo-op. She’s never had someone withstand the hellfire she rages, never stayed long enough to endure.

I’m different. I meant what I said. She can’t escape me, she’ll never be without me. And I’ll submit to her when I know she can follow me. In this life, it can be the line between life and death, prison, or being taken by another family.

My fingers tease her entrance, pushing into her slick heat. She mewls, nails raking into the wood as if to stop from floating away. Her ass pushes against me, begging me to give her more relief.

Not yet, I won’t. This is a learning exercise for Sloane.

I need her to know that I’m not going anywhere, that this is it. For us both.

I pick her up by the back of her neck, turning her so she faces me. She protests, my fingers leaving her wanting, frustrated.

“You’re such a slut, begging me for a good fucking, aren’t you, little menace?” My words float over her face making her eyes flutter. “This cunt is greedy. Do you want what I can give you?”

She licks her lips in thought. “Yes.” It’s a disgusted whisper. She’s ashamed by it.

Sloane O’Brien—now De Luca, ashamed by what she gets turned on by. Obviously, there’s something there, but I’m not looking to explore that right now. I just need her to want me, and only me.

“Did you like your punishment?”

Her cheeks grow hotter.

When she’s silent, I rub my thumb against her smeared lips, and the running black mascara. She’s a beautiful mess and it takes all my self-control not to throw her on to the floor and rut into her like a fucking animal.

She does this. Snaps my control, turns me into a mindless beast.

“It’s alright if you did, Sloane. There’s no shame here.” Wrapping that beautiful red hair back around my fist, I pull her close. I inhale her perfume and smile. “The only way you come, is by me. You don’t touch yourself, you don’t let anyone else touch you. Only me.”

She lifts her chin. “And why would I do that? We might be married, but I don’t fucking love you.”

“And I don’t fucking love you,” I say, though something tells me I’ll be eating those words soon enough.

I suck her bottom lip into my mouth, giving into the need to taste her.

“But I own you. So do as I say, and I’ll fuck you like I hate you.

Like the dirty fucktoy that you are, that you want to be. Understand?”

I shove her away, letting her see the evidence of my arousal.

“Goodnight, wife .”