The Marriage Debt (De Vos Mafia #2)(18)

He raises his brow. “No?” A chuckle follows. “We’ll see about that.”

Shit.

“I’ll do it,” I quickly say, and without thinking, I lower, past his half-hard dick, all the way down to his boots. And while I’m still panting, my tongue dips out to lap up the saltiness straight from the floor.

“Good. Clean up the mess you made,” he says, watching me do it. “I like this side of you, bunny. Eager to please.”

I feel so dirty doing this, yet I continue anyway. What other choice do I have? As my father said, make Luca happy, or else …

So I close my eyes and lick up the floor until not a trace remains of my refusal to swallow.

“Good girl,” Luca murmurs as he tugs the leash again to pull me back up to my feet.

I know he can see the hatred in my eyes, and I know he doesn’t give a shit. But I still want him to know.

“You can keep up the charade all you like,” he says, and a sudden swipe of his finger along my slit makes me suddenly aware of how sensitive I’ve become. Just one swipe is enough for my entire body to zing.

He’s so close I can feel his breath on my skin as he hovers near my lips, almost close enough to … kiss. “I know deep down you want me.”

The air is thick with tension, every second feeling like it lasts an eternity as he stands before me with our mouths only inches away from each other.

Instead, he brings his finger to his mouth and licks up my juices right in front of me.

God. Why does he have to be such a goddamn infuriating jerk and sexy at the same time?

“And one of these days, I’m going to make you say it, wife,” he murmurs, swirling his tongue along the tip of his finger in a way that it resembles him licking … a clit.

My clit.

And the mere sight makes me swallow with greed.

But then he pulls away, zips up, and releases the leash, leaving me barren and with a certain kind of need I can’t pinpoint. And without saying another word, he opens the door and walks out, closing it behind him.

Click.

The lock slipping into place is the only noise I hear before I’m left with nothing but the silence of my own rampaging heart, wishing it could scream.





Chapter 8





Luca



* * *



Clutching my glass of rum, I stare through the windows of my penthouse at the beautiful view. Watching the common folk go through their life down below has always been one of my favorite things to do. But today, it barely manages to brighten my sour mood.

“Something wrong, sir?” asks my most trusted guard, Marco. He comes inside and places a new set of guns and knives on the table for me to inspect.

When I part my lips to respond, there’s that scream again, and it interrupts my train of thought.

“Want me to give her some meds to shut her up?” he asks.

I turn to face him, and I point my glass at him. “Never, ever suggest that again.”

He averts his eyes in submission. “Of course, sir. My apologies.”

I stare him down for another second before taking a big sip of my rum. “Are these from the new shipment?” I put down my rum and pick up one of the guns.

“Yes, sir. Our seller told us this is a new line.”

I play with it a little, tugging on the handle. Checking the chamber is empty, I pull the trigger.

“I like this one. I think I’ll keep it with me for now,” I reply, and he places the bullets on the table for me.

“I can order more if you like,” Marco says.

“I want to test these out first before we do,” I answer. “But keep them on our side. Pay them extra for the wait.”

“Of course,” he says.

Another squeal makes us both look up at Jill’s door.

“Perhaps she wants some food?” he asks.

“No,” I respond.

We’ve had more than enough at the party. And still I don’t feel satisfied.

I used to love bingeing on food, liquor, cigarettes, and drugs. Anything I could get my hands on. But now that I have her in my clutches, nothing will ever come close.

Ecstasy.

That’s what she gives me.

Like snorting cocaine straight out of the bag.

She’s addictive, the right kind, and I don’t know how to stop myself from consuming her until nothing is left.

All I want right now is to go back in there and fuck her every orifice until she screams my name.

But doing so would make her despise me. Hate me. Loathe me.

And the thought of that … stops me.

She already hates me enough.

Fuck.

My hand turns into a fist against the window, and I bang on it. “Goddammit!”

“Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” Marco asks.

“Leave me,” I growl. “I need to think.”

“As you wish.” He nods and exits the penthouse to go back to his own room farther down the hallway. Marco never questions my authority, and he knows not to try.

But she … she defies me every step of the way.

And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on.

She’s right. I am sick.

But I don’t fucking care.

I take another sip of my rum.