The only time my hard-on had gone done was when I stepped into the room with Marco. Fucker could make anybody’s blood pressure drop just from having to deal with his arrogant ass. But then as soon as Amara had come in my deflated cock had become semi-hard instantly.
And I hadn’t cared to try and hide it, didn’t even bother adjusting myself. I didn’t know if anybody had seen how hard my cock was getting, how the fucker tented my pants.
I continued to stare at Amara, smirking at the fact she’d refused to look at me since we’d sat down for dinner. I knew I probably shouldn’t have approached her after she left her father’s office, really shouldn't have called her those little pet names.
And when her bastard of a father at point-blank asked me if I Amara was “sufficient” for me, as if she were a piece of fucking steak I was buying from the butcher. I hadn’t given a shit about formalities.
I was protective of her instantly, and hearing her father speak to her as if she meant nothing pissed me the fuck off. I’d left without saying shit to my brother or Marco, just turned and left right in the middle of Bianchi’s ramblings and went after his barely legal daughter.
Clenching my teeth as I got enraged all over again, I forced myself to look away from my pretty fiancé and narrowed my eyes at her father. Amara’s mother looked depressing as she sat beside Marco, the woman as dainty as her daughter, but I could tell she’d been trained to be quiet and obedient. Meek.
That wasn’t something I wanted in my life. I wanted a wife that had a passion and fire to match my own chaos.
And I saw that burning in Amara’s eyes the short time we’d been in each other’s presence. She knew her place in our world, but she also had a spark, a fire of life behind her eyes that turned me on. Excited me, like a predator who just spotted a gazelle anticipated the hunt.
Her brother Gio sat on the other side of Marco, and Amara’s younger sister Claudia sat beside her mother. When I looked at my pretty fiancé I felt a stab of lust that she was looking at me out of the corner of her eye. I held back a grin, not sure why I was so pleased she showed interest in me.
It would make all of this easier, make our time together when we were alone and I had her naked and spread for me all that more pleasurable.
I thought back to when I’d cornered her in that alcove, both of us hidden by shadows so it was just the two of us. I swore I’d smelled the sweet scent of her wet pussy as I inhaled deeply, as I held her arm and stroked her gently, as I watched her pupils become blown from her desire when I told her I’d be the only one to touch her as I brought her pleasure.
That had been a bastard thing to say to her, so sweet and innocent that she'd never heard such filth in her life. And fuck, that wasn’t even dirty by my standards. I had a shitload of nasty stuff I wanted to tell her… make her do. Do to her.
Fuck, my cock jerked in approval at all of that.
My skin tightened, a sensation I had when I was being watched, and I let my gaze move away from Amara to look at Gio. The bastard’s focus was trained on me and he didn’t bother concealing his disapproval. I lifted my glass up and tipped it in salute to him before downing the rest of it.
Staring at Amara’s brother, I lifted the now empty glass, signaling the wait staff to refill it. A second later I was topped-off and taking another pull of liquor. If the bastard thought he could be intimidating by glaring at me, he didn’t know nearly enough about who and what I was.
If he thought the fucking Cosa Nostra was dangerous, he hadn’t seen anything yet. As if he read my thoughts he narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. I suppressed my laugh when I heard Dmitry growl low in his throat, a warning for me to behave.
I looked at my brother and lifted an eyebrow, silently telling him I thought I was doing pretty fucking well at being a gentleman. I’d never given a shit about what anyone thought or said, and certainly didn’t abide by rules and “behave”. But because an alliance with the West Coast Cosa Nostra was important to our organization, I was going against the grain here and listening to “reason“.
I looked back at Amara, a stab of lust slamming into me when I saw her blue eyes trained right on me. She looked away quickly and I could see her shoulders tense. But I continued to stare at her, knowing she felt me watching her.
I liked making her feel on edge, a little uncomfortable. It turned me on to know she thought how I acted, how I blatantly watched her was no doubt inappropriate.
I leaned back in my chair and kept sipping on my liquor, filtering out the conversation around as I blatantly eye-fucked her in front of her entire family. But I didn’t give a shit who saw me or what they thought. She’d be mine soon enough by law and tradition, hell, she pretty much already was mine since the engagement was official between her father and me.
She brought up a piece of fruit from her salad and I watched as she brought it to her mouth, her lips closing delicately over the fork as she pulled the bit of strawberry off.
My cock jerked hard at the sight of that, at the thought that I’d have her on her knees, the plump pink lips suctioned around my cock, her gaze trained on my face as I forced her to take it all.
I’d throat fuck the hell out of her, watch as tears streamed down her throat because I wouldn’t be gentle, wouldn’t give her time to get accustomed to my huge dick. I could all but hear the sound of her gagging as I envisioned shoving into her mouth so deep she’d swallow around the crown obscenely.
I was going to have fun with her. Fuck, I was going to ruin her for anyone else but me.
Chapter
Nine
Amara
I stared at myself in the mirror, not recognizing the woman looking back at me. The wedding dress was gorgeous, the white lace and Swarovski crystals weaved into the silk, the fabric molding around my curves and hinting at my womanhood.
Although most of my skin was covered so it was still modest and showed my innocence, it also would let everyone know I was a woman now, with a womanly body that only my husband would ever get to enjoy.
Those thoughts had my belly clenching.
It was a gorgeous dress even if I didn’t pick it out, even if I didn’t have a choice. In any of this. But what difference did it make? It’s not like I’d be wearing it for more than a day anyway, the material probably ripped off my body by Nikolai as soon as we made it into the hotel because he was a beast.
I closed my eyes and breathed as that thought conjured up a hundred different images of what would happen on my wedding night. I wasn’t stupid enough to think Nikolai would take his time with me, that he’d be gentle, that he’d make love to me. I was sure he wasn’t a virgin and experienced. He’d probably pleased more women than I’d be able to comprehend.
For the past three weeks I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Nikolai, about our inappropriate, impromptu alcove meeting where he touched me, where we’d shared that forbidden act. I could still smell his cologne, had even shamelessly thought about touching myself when I was alone in bed at night to the memory of how dark and spicy it had been, how it wrapped around me.
I’d pictured his big body hovering over mine, and imagined how it would feel to have his body heat pouring off his naked, muscular form and seeping into me, surrounding me.