Page 44 of Filthy Little Games

“I was just thinking I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want you, and I don’t know why. What it is about you?” I find myself being brutally honest with her, probably telling her more than I should, but I can’t seem to stop myself. “And it’s not just because you’re beautiful, and now you’re my wife. That’s what makes you so dangerous.”

“I’m dangerous?” she replies with a huff of laughter. “No one’sever been afraid of me. I don’t have any scary nicknames, either. That’s all you, Mr. Angel of Death.”

“Just because I have scary nicknames doesn’t mean that you owe me anything. In this marriage, it’s you who holds all the power.”

“I wish that were true,” she replies with a sad smile.

“I killed a man in a fit of rageforyou before you were even mine.”

She blinks at me as if in surprise. “That’s...that’s why you killed Izaiah?”

“I couldn’t stand seeing him near you, and when he held that knife to your throat I…snapped. I know you were concerned I might let him kill you so I wouldn’t have to, but the thought never crossed my mind. It should have, but it didn’t.”

Leaving her with that truth, I go into the closet and lock up my cell and hers in the safe. When I return to the bedroom, Zara says, “Izaiah…that wasn’t just revenge for your brother?”

“I don’t make stupid, spontaneous mistakes like I did last night. After he confessed, I should’ve waited, come up with a foolproof plan, and made his death look like an accident once I found out if Emilio was involved. But I couldn’t wait.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks redden, and I have no idea why. So, it’s my turn to ask, “What are you thinking about?” I pull the covers back to climb into bed next to her.

“Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me before,” she says softly. “Even just being spoken to with respect is new. Most of the time, Izaiah was drunk or high or both when he came over, and he had other plans for my mouth rather than talking to me like a person.”

Fuck.

Now, I’m unfortunately thinking about her on her knees for that piece of shit.

“Our conversations were short, usually him giving me orders.”

“Orders?” I ask, then instantly regret it.

“Orders, you know, like telling me to suck harder, swallow like a good girl. And my least favorite of all, he would make me tell him who I belonged to.”

I loathe hearing what Izaiah did to her, with her. It seems so one-sided, I ask her, “Was he always a selfish bastard? Did he ever give you what you needed?”

“No. It was always about him. Izaiah barely touched more than the back of my throat.”

Jesus Christ.

“How about we make a deal that neither of us will ever say that fuckingstronzo’s name again?”

“Deal. I prefer Piece of Shit anyway.”

“And that piece of shit never got you off?”

She shakes her head, her curls still damp and pulled up off her delectable-looking neck. “Never.”

“That’s a shame,micetta mia. I would give anything just to make you moan for me.” Moan, scream, rake her fingernails through my hair or down my back. The list of things I want to do to her is long. And there’s no point in pretending I don’t want her when she’s married to me and sharing my bed.

“Anything?” Zara asks. Before I can answer, she reaches for my hand and places it on her thigh, and I’m beyond stunned. Even more so when she slips my palm up underneath the hem of my tee she’s wearing. “Would you kill another man for me?”

“Just tell me his name.”

Fucking hell. I’m certain I’m dreaming when she lets my fingertips brush over her bare pussy because she’s not wearing any panties.

And while this almost feels like another set up, I plunge headfirst into it again as she presses harder against my hand.

“Being married to the mafia has some nice perks.”

“You have no idea how nice the perks are yet,” I assure her. “Want me to show you a few of them?”

---