Owned by the Italian Mafia Boss: A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Possessive Mafia Kings Book 1)

It’s been two weeks since we married, and the best and only sexual experience of my life. He’s been different during that time. He’s been…sweet.

And sweet is not in his nature. That’s how I know he’s trying.

Every day for the last two weeks, he has come to the library with me, gotten everyone coffee and stayed at my side. Ethan stays far away from Carmine, and Carmine tends to give him deadly stares, but the last two weeks have been great. He’s even helped me study for the exam that I have tomorrow.

We’ve stayed up late studying, fallen asleep, and woken up with flashcards sticking to our cheeks. We’ve laughed and kissed, but the one thing I haven’t been able to do is to take the next step with him. After Carmine gave me that amazing orgasm, I felt like I couldn’t please him and turned him on myself.

Sexually, I’ve kept him distant.

But we’ve grown closer.

The laughs, the coffee, the study sessions, all because of my big exam tomorrow.

And he never missed a day. He never told me he couldn’t because of work.

He was—is—there for me.

“No! Not again, not again. Please, not again.”

Unable to sleep because I was thinking about Carmine and worried if I pass my test tomorrow, I flipped over to see what Carmine was talking about.

“Don’t. Father, not again. Not again.” The pain in his voice has me scooting closer. He still won’t talk about the scars on his body, and I still can’t touch them.

“Carmine?” I whisper, trying to wake him gently from his nightmare.

He begins to scream. It’s loud and heart-wrenching, the kind of sound that reaches into the soul and shreds it to pieces. The tendons in his neck are tight, and he is gripping the comforter for dear life. He begins to thrash, and I want to cry for him.

I’ve never seen him like this. I’ve never seen him in a nightmare. He doesn’t dream.

“Stop! I’ll be a man, just stop!” he screams, a singular tear running down his chin.

“Carmine!” I roll on top of him and shake him awake, needing him to see that his real life is with me now. He doesn’t wake up right away. “Carmine! It’s me. It’s Delilah. Wake up, my dark side, wake up,” I beg him, hoping he knows what it means.

He’s my dark side, the darkness I’ve always craved.

“Carmine!” I take his face in my hands and press my lips against his. His chest is sweating, his forehead is hot and his breathing is fast.

His eyes snap open, and I’m flipped to my back.

There’s no recognition in his gaze. His pupils are blown wide, his hair is a disaster and his fist is held in the air.

“Carmine! It’s me. It’s Delilah. Your Sweetling, it’s me,” I sob, closing my eyes to prepare for the hit. “It’s me.”

I press my hands against his chest to push him away, my fingertips drifting over the puckered scars, and he finally blinks, shaking the dream from his head.

Sweat drips from the ends of his hair, and when he finally sees me, he drops his hand and jumps off the bed to get away from me.

“Why did you do that?” he yells at me, pain and regret clear in his tone. “Why did you try to wake me? Never, ever do that again. I almost fucking hit you!”

I sit up and knee-walk on the bed to the edge. “It’s okay. You weren’t in your right mind, Carmine. You had a bad dream.”

“It isn’t okay!” He roars, slapping his chest. “I never want to hurt you. Ever. Hurting you would kill me.” He grabs at his hair and rubs his hands down his face. “Fuck!” he punches a hole in the wall, and I jump. “I can’t believe I did that. I almost attacked you,” he says through broken breaths. “Stay away from me. This can’t work. It can’t. I’m not good for you. You don’t get it. You don’t understand,” he mumbles while not looking at me. “How did I ever think this could work? I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Carmine—”

“I almost hit you!” he yells at me again, taking a step forward and reaching out to me, but he drops his hands. He’s afraid to touch me now. “Do you know what I would have done to myself? I am a man of many sins. Sins that will follow me forever, but that is one I refuse to live with. I’m ashamed. Tomorrow, I’ll cancel the contract. You can go home.”

I jump off the bed and run to him, but he backs away from me, holding out his arms for me not to come closer.

“Carmine, no. No! I refuse to give up that easily. You don’t get to give up, either. You were in a nightmare. You can’t control that. Next time, I won’t wake you. I’ll go into another room, okay? We don’t give up. Not after…” I try not to let my emotion show. “Not after everything we have been through the last few weeks.”

“I’m a man who is always put together,” he says, tracing the scars on his chest and shoulders as he speaks. “I am not weak. I am not a weak man. I’ve proved myself. I’m not weak.” He sags against the wall and bends over. “I’m not weak.” He runs his hand through his hair, and I take a step forward, touching his face to bring him to the present with me.

He flinches but then leans into my touch.

“I know you’re not weak,” I say. “You’re the strongest man I know.”

“You’re a fool for staying with me. What if you’re pregnant, and I hurt you? I can’t do that. I couldn’t live…” he swallows, staring at the floor. “I couldn’t live if I hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t. I believe that. You’ve had plenty of chances to hurt me, and you haven’t. This won’t be any different.” I slide my fingers down his neck and touch a scar. “What happened? Why do you have these? Your father did this? That’s who you were yelling at in your dream.” I take his hands and drag him back to bed, wanting him to be comfortable talking to me, but I can’t get him to move.

“He cut me with a knife. Some are deeper than others. He was teaching me how to be a man. He cut me every day when I was a child, until one day I didn’t cry anymore.”

“Carmine.”

“I’m not proud of this,” he begins. “I never wanted you to see me like this. I’m not this man.”

“I wouldn’t care.”

“I fought every day. The pain was so much. Sometimes, I’d wish he would kill me. It’s been so long since I’ve had a nightmare, and I almost hurt you.” He grasps the back of my neck, and his brown eyes lock on mine, filling with tears. “I’ll never hurt you, Delilah. With my last fucking breath, I’d never put a hand on you, but I am not a good man. I’m damaged. I am unable to be put back together. Too many pieces of me have been taken. My mind is broken.”

He winces when I touch the scars on his chest, his skin still damp and sticky from sweating during his nightmare. He’s trembling, barely able to keep still, and his nostrils flare as I examine every battle scar. His fists flex, and his veins protrude as his muscles bulge.

“You are not broken,” I whisper, and kiss the scar running from one shoulder to the other. “You are not weak.” I kiss another scar, and his shoulders relax. “You are a good man.” He turns his head but doesn’t look at me. “You’re a good man to me, and that’s all that matters. I don’t care what you do to anyone else, as long as you come back to me.” I stand in front of him and kiss the scar on his chest.

His chest heaves as he stares at me, then, with his signature hand around my throat, he drags me to bed, slamming me on the mattress.

We’re naked.

I don’t know how I’ve forgotten that in the last ten minutes, but his cock is hard, curving up to his stomach to his belly button. The head is flared, a dark blush color, while he’s thick and long. He trimmed around the base, and as he curls over me, his thumb pressing against my jugular, I know I want him more than ever.

“If you knew the things I want to do to you, you would not call me a good man.”

“Then don’t be a good man right now, Carmine.” I fight against his hold on my neck and push forward until we are nose to nose. “Show me how bad you’ve been dying to be.”

He slams his lips to mine, skimming his fingers down my arms. Goosebumps rise in their wake. Carmine intertwines our hands, clutching them together as if it’s the only thing holding him to the ground.

The way he kisses me this time is different. It’s desperate like he’s searching for anything to help him make sense of his life. His tongue slides against mine, and he settles himself between my legs. His cock slips between my pussy folds.

He moans, breaking the kiss to catch a breath before melding our lips together again.

“You feel so good,” he mumbles. “Already so wet, so hot for me, Sweetling.” He lets go of one hand and grabs the meat of my thigh, digging his fingers into the flesh. “Are you sure? Delilah, there will be no turning back,” he growls, dipping his hand between us to align it with my entrance. “I’m going to fill you with my come over and over again until your body has no choice but to have my child.”

“I don’t have a choice anyway,” I remind him, nipping at his chin. “I agreed to it. Take me, Carmine. Take the last thing that’s meant to be yours.”

He rips the covers off the bed. “I want nothing in my way.”

He curls over me, a flash of worry pinching his brows as he inches his way in.

I release his hand and grab his shoulders. He pauses, staring at where I’m touching his scars, but it’s brief.

“Hold onto me, Sweetling.” He kisses either side of my cheeks before settling against my lips.

My fingernails dig into his skin, and I hope I don’t add more scars to him.

While I whimper, he moans, struggling to breathe as he sinks further.

“Fuck,” he curses, then owns my mouth in a searing kiss.

I squeeze my eyes shut when he hits the barrier. He stretches and fills every part of me.

“You feel so good, Sweetling,” he croons in my ear. “Nothing, no one, has ever felt as good as you feel to me. Your pussy is perfect. All mine. I know it hurts.”

I nod, biting my lip as he presses a little harder. Tears fill my eyes as I open them, staring directly at him.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, I promise.” His hand automatically lies across the side of my neck, his thumb sliding back and forth across my jaw. “So beautiful,” he whispers in awe, before dipping down and sucking a nipple into his mouth.

I cry out when he slams forward, claiming my virginity as his while lashing his tongue across my hardened peak. He cups my breasts, groaning as he has his way with my body.

He kisses his way up my chest, sucking gently on my throat, before taking another kiss.

“You’re all mine now,” he states. “The only cock you’ll ever know.” He kisses me again, gently and sweet, and doesn’t move. He gives me time to adjust to his size, the pain and intrusion.

“So big,” I mumble, wiggling under him.

“And your pussy is taking every inch it was meant to.” He plucks my left nipple, pinching and tugging until I’m moaning in pleasure.

“Move,” I beg him. “Please, move.”

“Why is every part of you perfect.” He wonders aloud, as he slides out only to ease his way in again. His eyes close, and his mouth opens as he makes pleasurable noises I never thought I’d hear from him. He is a very vocal lover, and I want more.

“More, Carmine. Please.” My hands wrap around his firm ass, gripping his cheeks to pull him tighter against me, Another inch invaded my sensitive entrance.

Hooking one hand around my shoulder, he leans on his elbow and stares at where we are connected, watching himself sliding in and out of me.

“Ah, damn,” he groans, throwing his head back in ecstasy. “Delilah.” His nostrils flare as he picks up speed, our skin slapping in the room that will hold this moment forever.

“Oh god,” I shout, scraping my nails down his chest.

He slams against me now, gripping the headboard for leverage as he thrusts his hips with more force. “That’s it, Sweetling. Take my cock, take the only fucking cock you’ll ever know. I’ll be the only man you’ll ever need. I’ll give you everything.”

He reaches down and circles my clit, sparks flying through my body.

“Carmine!” My thighs begin to tremble, and I become wetter, the space between us slippery.

“Yes, call out my name, Sweetling. Let me hear you.” He moves us suddenly, standing beside the bed; he drags the edge, lifts my legs to place them on his shoulders, and fills me once more. We moan in unison, and as he begins a punishing pace, my breasts bounce with the force he uses. He stares, watching the movement hungrily.

He’s obsessed.

“I can’t wait until you’re pregnant. I can’t wait until your tits fill with milk and your belly becomes round. You’re going to be so fucking sexy. I’m going to love it just like I love you,” he admits, and doesn’t catch himself.

I don’t say it back because it has to be the heat of the moment. I don’t think he means it. I’ll wait until he says it while we aren’t having amazing sex.

“Carmine. I’m…I’m…”

“Yes, that’s it, Sweetling. Come.”

On his command, unable to disobey, I do as he says and shatter. My muscles clamp around him as spasms work their way through my body.

He spreads my legs apart and aligns his chest with mine, kissing me again before his breath becomes unsteady and sharp. Carmine groans and gasps. “Ah, fuck, Delilah.”

He plants himself as far as he can and fills me with every stream; he thrusts harder, wanting to claim my womb.

When he is done, he doesn’t roll off me. Instead, he kisses me tenderly, slow and easy, both of us trying to catch our breath. Our bodies shake from the explosive orgasms, and without breaking the connection between us, he moves us up the bed.

“We’ll fall asleep like this, so nothing drips free,” he says, wrapping his arms around me and kissing the side of my forehead.

I don’t know why that makes me smile, but it does. Maybe this life with him won’t be so bad. Maybe we will be happy.

“Are you okay?” he asks me, trailing his hands up and down my arms. “Did I hurt you?” he asks.

I sigh in contentment, not ever wanting this moment to end. I’m falling in love with him, and I want nothing more than to tell him, but I can’t. I want us to tell one another when sex isn’t involved. Only loving me while he’s inside me isn’t love.

It’s just sex. It’s use. It’s a transaction between two people, as we originally agreed upon.

“No. You didn’t hurt me. I mean, it hurt at first, but it doesn’t hurt anymore. It felt good. Really good,” I admit, and I’m happy he can’t see my face because I blush, suddenly feeling shy.

“You feel amazing. I’m addicted.” He presses a kiss against my shoulder, and I involuntary contract my muscles around him. Carmine hisses, gripping my hip with force. “You better stop if you don’t want another round.”

“Who said I didn’t? You’re the one who stopped. Do you think you can go again? Is your age catching up to you?” I tease, wanting to take it a step further. “You probably can’t keep up with a young woman like me. Maybe one of your brothers can help me out.”

He flips me onto my back; this time, both hands are wrapped around my neck, squeezing tightly. I can’t breathe, and my entire body reacts. I love it.

“You fucking dare bring my brothers into our bed while it’s my come inside you, my cock, me with my hands wrapped around your throat. It’s your virgin blood on me.” His cock is still solid as he begins to thrust. Lifting me by my neck, he tosses me off his length and throws me onto my stomach. His hand shoves my face into the mattress, and I struggle, wanting to get away but driving him crazy.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He wraps my hair around his wrist. “And to think I was going to take it easy on you because you were a virgin, but now I’m wondering if you just want to be my slut.” He grips my hips to keep me still enough for him to thrust inside me.

“Yes,” I groan, loving this position, loving the sting of pain from losing my virginity.

“Bring my brothers into this bed again, and I will make sure you can’t walk for a fucking week, Delilah. Do you want them?” he sneers, driving unapologetically into me again. “Are you imagining them inside you right now?” I hear the insecurity in his voice. It’s barely there, a slight hitch in his throat, but it’s there. “No one will be able to fuck you better than me,” he threatens. “And I will kill them if they ever laid a hand on you. You know I would.”

My screams are muffled by the mattress. I move up the bed with every thrust until my head hangs over it.

“They will never get the chance to touch you like I am!” he roars, thrusting harder, and the urge to come hits me full force. All I feel is pressure. It builds and builds until I don’t think I can take anymore. I turn my head to look at him, but he shoves me back down. “You don’t get to watch me fuck you.”

“I don’t want them! I don’t.” I shake my head, my fingers curling over the edge of the mattress. “I only want you. I only wanted to make you angry.”

He yanks me back by tugging my hair, bringing his lips to my ear. “I am. Mission accomplished. I’m furious, Delilah. Tell me again. Tell me you only want me. Tell me it’s my cock that you want. No one else’s.”

“Yours, Carmine. I’m yours. I’m yours. Oh, God, I’m so close.”

“You come when I tell you to, damn it. You better not come, or I won’t fuck you again for weeks.”

“Carmine,” I pout. “That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair. I don’t give a fuck what you have to say right now.” He continues to batter me, his cock plummeting in and out, his sack slapping against me while I hold in my orgasm. Tears brim my eyes, and a burn begins to spread through my stomach.

“I have to, please,” I sob. “Carmine. Carmine. Carmine,” I chant his name with his every thrust.

I’ll have bruises on my ass from how hard he is holding me, but I don’t care. I want them. I want every mark he wants to give me.

“You’re not so sweet, but this pussy is,” he grabs my cheeks and thrusts me back, fucking me harder. He pauses, shouting his pleasure as he comes. “Now, Delilah. Now!”

And I do; I stop holding it in and cry into the mattress, milking his cock of every drop.

My vision sways, and darkness creeps in from the sides.

He pulls out of me and rolls me over. He kisses me, and I taste his sweat, the heat of his breath, and I drink it all in.

“You’re mine, Delilah,” he repeats. “I own you.”

“I know,” I say, our foreheads pressed together as we try to catch our breath.

I never expected to be owned, but I am in every single way. My life is his.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.