Page 4 of Paying the Mafia Don

“Make your choice. Will you marry me or not?”

I hear it. Hear Lynn’s voice loud and clear screaming, yelling, begging me not to do this crazy thing. Still, I give the only answer I can.

“Yes.”

Chapter 2

The wedding happened in a blink. My family in Kouris is having a fit. No Gataki has ever been married in a courthouse. But I had the wedding lace, orchestras, and flying doves with Eden, and not one of those things made a damn bit of difference. Besides, what better place to start a business arrangement than in court? A judge is better suited to witness this union than God.

Her parents didn’t attend. My men drug her father to a rehabilitation center, with her mother objecting to the violent removal more than her father did. She cried and pled for her husband. For her daughter, she was dry-eyed. My mother would carve, with a butter knife, into pieces the flesh of any man who’d take my sisters. She’d make a mama bear seem as harmless as a bunny when it came to protecting her children.

I looked at the date on my watch. One week down, one week left to go. She’d requested time to wrap up the last days at school. Saying she couldn’t stick her young students with a substitute teacher for the final two weeks. I understood. Since it was the same reason, I hadn’t flown Cassandra out to meet us. I didn’t want any disruption at the end of her school year. I gave in on the time schedule but not the living arrangement. She moved in with me the day we married. I paid her debt; she was mine. Besides, if anyone wanted to strike at our family, her living arrangement in an unsecured duplex was too soft of a target. She needed to understand that she was a Gataki now. Even if I hadn’t claimed her—yet.

I told myself it was because I wanted to wait until we returned to Kouris. That my monastic patience had nothing to do with her sad puppy dog eyes. She said she’d never allowed herself to be sold. Did she regret coming to this marriage with a purchase tag? Too bad if she did. She made her bargain. I delivered on my part of the agreement, and she’d damn well do the same. And fuck sorrow, shame, disillusionment or whatever else was going through her beautiful mind. I’d witnessed enough kidnappings to know the stages of shock—disorientation, disbelief, fear, negotiation, hopelessness, acceptance. The acceptance stage is when the person breaks. Leave a person alone long enough for all hope to die and you can get all the information you need. Because it’s never their strength you’re fighting. You’re fighting their hope, their intrinsic belief that they will get through this—survive.

I’d never broken Eden. Blinded by her beauty—and pussy. I believed every lie she told me. When I found out she lied about being a virgin, I believed her story about being taken advantage of and hiding it from her family out of shame. Believed when she disappeared for hours with her bodyguard, that she really was wandering through fields looking for fresh flowers or admiring a museum’s artwork. Shopping, visiting relatives, or spending time on the beach, she had more stories than a library. Valentina had yet to tell me any tall tales. But she wouldn’t get the opportunity.

She thought my reprieve was to help her get acclimated. She didn’t see how I gave her space while still slowly closing the walls around her. The trick was to cage her without getting caught. A task that I met with increasing difficulty. Her dark brown Bambi eyes could chain a man. Her curves would bring him to his knees. I imagined being inside her would sink fish hook barbs into a man’s cock and he’d never want to release. I tasted that jail cell on her lips when we kissed at the end of our courthouse ceremony.

She’d opened her lips briefly. Giving me a small taste of the warm, sweet honey that must flow through her veins. Flooding me with images of her wrapping her long legs around my waist while I fed her my thick cock. Valentina’s heat and wetness would wrap around me as I thrust into her over and over. Her nails would rake down my back, her breathless moans and whimpers would beg me to pound harder. I’d give her what she wants. What she needs. She’d scream my name when I slammed my cock home one last time. Only after I’d coat her womb in my cum, and would we collapse. Once I’d seen it in my mind, I couldn’t unsee it. My biggest concern was that I’d wanted Eden with the same desperate avarice. A lustful greed that blinded me to everything else. I’d sworn I’d never let my dick lead me around again. But every time I watched Valentina, laugh, cook, walk, hell, breathe, my hard-on lengthened as if preparing for her bridle.

I’d let her enjoy her Friday night. But all this schoolboy longing would end on Saturday. She would not get my soft. I’d exposed my soft underbelly to Eden, and she’d stabbed me in it—repeatedly. The fuck if that shit would ever happen again.

***

The sun was sinking into submission when Valentina finally returned home from work. I didn’t worry about where she was. The bodyguards, two of them, following her, said she’d spent some time with her best friend, Rosalyn. Rosalyn had been our solo wedding guest. Valentina’s best friend’s eyes had spit fire at me when she threatened me if I ever hurt her friend. I didn’t laugh. I took her words seriously. Loyal friends were invaluable. It was always a good sign if a person had someone willing to take on a mafia don for a loved one.

“Welcome home.” I drop a brief kiss on her forehead before escorting her inside. I take her purse and sit it on the table in the entryway. Valentina lets out a heavy sigh. My brow arches when she babbles, fully aware that she’s broken one of my rules. “I know I’m late. I’m sorry. Lynn called on my way home. We stopped to grab a bite, and time got away from us. She kept me talking longer than I wanted. It didn’t feel right to just walk away. Considering… You know. Last day and all…” A lump bobbed in her throat, and she swallowed hard.

She’d dressed casually in her school’s jersey t-shirt and jeans. I stifle my growl at the curves those jeans showcase—my curves. I let her yammer and stammer. She’s nervous. Good. When she pauses, I ask. “Would you like something to drink?”

Her eyes widen a bit before she nods. “Yes. That would be great.”

“What would you like?” I lead her into the kitchen. “Wine, juice, milk, beer?”

“I’d love a glass of wine.”

I pour it, hand it to her, and pour one for myself. “To the end of your school year.” We clink our glasses, and she looks away. Her eyes avoiding mine. Her father is a poker player. It’s obvious she is not. She tries to mask her nervousness by taking a second sip that becomes a gulp and she coughs.

“I think I should explain…” She pulls her lip into her mouth to bite the corner and my dick hardens.

“Okhi.” I set my glass on the counter and take hers. Her tight jeans and the way she’s playing with her lip shoot all my plans to wait until tomorrow to claim to hell. “No need.” I tug her lip from her teeth and rub the reddened flesh with my thumb. Her breath hitches against it. It’s the first time I’ve invaded her space since our wedding. The rapid rise and fall of her shoulders tell me she’s anticipating this as much as I am. Has she been craving my touch? Going a little mad every time, we pass each other in the hall without connecting? Did she wish I would just fuck her and get it over with? If so, her wish is about to come true.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” She tries apologizing again when I pull her between my legs.

“I’m sure you are.”

“I’m not usually late.” Valentina quivers the words out.

“I know.” Dipping my head, I tip her chin up to claim her lips, and she stiffens. I stroke my tongue across her lips. She tries to hold them still. But they flutter under my caress. My dick is so hard it is painful. I clench my jaw and cup her neck to keep myself from devouring her. “Relax.” I breathe into her mouth. I stroke her lips with mine again, and this time, she opens. Allowing me to slip inside. The small tentative flick of her tongue against mine spears me. “That’s it. Good girl.” She jerks back. I let her. She needs to relax, but she also needs to understand that she’s mine.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Her eyes widen, and she licks her lips. “I just don’t know… What are we doing?”

I drag her between my legs again and lick across her lips. “We are getting to know each other.” Her breath stutters, and she melts into me. “And this is what I want to know. What do your lips taste like? Your skin? I want to know what you sound like when I lick you here.” I trail my finger between her breasts and down to her navel. “And here.” I dip my finger in and out of her belly button. Her head falls back, and I kiss her neck. She moans and shudders. I slip my finger under the band of her jeans, and her head pops back up.

“Stop.”

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