Toxic Love: A Dark Enemies To Lovers Mafia Romance
Toxic Love: Chapter 15

There’s a chance I might be crazy. Like, legit psycho. Because five minutes ago, I literally tried to stab this man at the altar. And now I’m moaning sinfully into his lips as he pins me to the bookshelf and kisses the ever-living fuck out of me.

Which part of that scenario makes me more psycho? I don’t know.

All I know is, it feels like I’m coming alive when his lips crush to mine.

I whimper as his teeth sink into my lip again. I can feel him suck, tasting my blood as I cling to him and mash my lips to his. His hands slide over my hips, pinning me against the shelves, then slide up my ribs and forcibly grab my wrists before shoving them high above my head.

This should be hitting every single trigger in the world for me. This should be pushing me back into that black hole in my head from seven years ago.

Instead, Dante’s touch makes me ache. It makes me crave more of him.

…and it makes me very, very wet.

Deep down, I know that’s screwed up: that after what I’ve experienced, it’s precisely the roughness in his touch and the forceful way he’s capturing me and caging me against the wall that has me melting for him and aching for more more more.

That has me dripping wet.

But I just don’t care.

Dante keeps my wrists pinned above my head with one hand. He uses the other one to capture my jaw as his tongue dances with mine. The possessiveness of the touch makes my knees weak as I eagerly suck his tongue deeper into my mouth.

His hand drops to the laced bodice of my wedding gown, yanking the ties loose and pulling it open. Heat pools between my thighs and my breasts spill free, and when his strong hand cups one of them, I shiver against him.

Dante groans as his fingers twist and pinch my aching nipples, sending electric shocks zapping through my core that have my thighs clenching tight. His hand slides lower, grabs the hem of the dress, and bunches it up to my waist.

His mouth drops to my neck, his teeth raking over the delicate skin there as his hand slips between my thighs. His hand cups my throbbing pussy through my slick panties, and my eyes roll back in ecstasy as something dark and volatile sparks inside me.

Oh fuck…

“Now, which part made this little pussy so fucking messy, dear wife of mine,” Dante snarls savagely into my ear. It’s that roughness and savagery that ratchets up the heat and the ache for him even more.

“Was it stabbing me?”

I gasp sharply as he nips hard at my neck.

“Or was it knowing that now I’m going to fuck that stabbiness right out of you.”

I shudder, pleasure humming through me as his finger drags along my seam through my drenched panties.

“Or maybe, little hurricane,” Dante rasps into my ear, “that’s exactly what you were hoping for when you tried to hurt me. Is that it?” he growls. “Were you trying to provoke me into pinning you to the wall like a bad girl and taking this pussy for the first time?”

I gasp as his fingers slip under the lace of my panties. He sinks into me, and when two of his fingers slide deep and curl against my g-spot, there’s no stopping the whine of pleasure from tumbling from my lips.

“Next time you want me to fuck you,” Dante murmurs thickly against the shell of my ear. “You’ll ask me nicely. And when you do…”

I cry out as he starts to thrust his fingers in and out of me roughly, sending explosive heat and pleasure sparking like wildfire through my body.

“When you do, little hurricane,” he hisses. “You’ll fucking say please.”

He suddenly hooks his other hand under my ass and lifts me up. I whimper, my arms and legs wrapping around him instinctively as he holds me against his body with one hand, keeping the other between my thighs and fingering my dripping pussy with deep, rhythmic thrusts.

His mouth slams to mine in a bruising kiss as he turns and storms across the room. My heart lurches into my throat when he lets go and gravity takes over. The second I land on the couch, he’s on me again.

Dante’s lips crush to mine, hungrily tasting my mouth and sucking my tongue into his. He moves lower, nipping at my neck, then my breasts, finally wrapping his lips around a soft pink nipple.

I hiss in pleasure, my hands sliding into his hair and gripping hard as he bites down and then slips his mouth lower.

And lower.

My eyes fly open as he shoves my dress up to my waist and yanks my panties off. Suddenly, his mouth dives between my thighs, and when I feel his tongue drag up my slit, it’s like sticking my finger into an electrical socket.

Holy. FUCK.

My hips jerk off the couch, and I slam a hand over my mouth to muffle the humiliatingly loud whine of pleasure that’s only overshadowed by how embarrassingly wet I am. I feel this insane need to apologize for the mess I’m making of his furniture, but before I can even open my mouth, Dante’s burying his between my legs and tonguing me deeply.

Sweet Jesus.

It’s like nothing I’ve ever known. My fingers can’t hold a candle to his tongue and lips. All I can do is writhe and moan, my vision blurring as he wraps his lips around my aching clit and swirls his tongue over it. He sinks two fingers back into my greedy pussy, stroking them against that rough spot inside as he sucks on my clit.

When I feel the first spank of his palm on my ass, it’s like someone’s poured napalm on the fire roaring inside of me. When he does it again, the spark catches in a whooshing roar. And when his tongue bats over my throbbing clit, the whole thing explodes.

I bury my face in the crook of my arm as I scream my release. It’s the single most explosive orgasm of my life, and his mouth stays right where it is through every rolling, thunderous wave. My hips buck and grind shamelessly, my vision blurs at the edges, and my pulse roars in my ears as I come hard against Dante’s tongue.

There’s still a ringing in my ears as Dante stands and shrugs off his suit jacket. My eyes drop to the bloodstain on his shirt as he unbuttons it and drops it to the floor, baring his ridiculously chiseled chest and abs.

When I realize what’s happening, my pulse quickens. But there’s no apprehension, and there’s no part of me that feels I should tell him to stop, that I don’t want this to go further.

Because I do.

I’ve never been able to even sit through an entire dinner date with someone. But there’s something so volatile and unapologetically possessive and forward about this man that it’s not that I can’t say no.

It’s that I don’t want to.

His pants open and slide down, and when he peels his briefs down over the grooved lines of his hips…

Holy fuck.

I stare at Dante’s very large, very thick cock as he wraps his hand around it and strokes leisurely. His thighs push mine open as he moves between them, and when he eases the fat head of his dick against my swollen pussy, my breath catches in my throat.

I could say no. I could tell him to stop, right now. He might be cold, and he might be the devil. But I’ve known rapists, and Dante isn’t one.

But I’m not going to say no. Because for the first time ever, I fucking want this.

Dante leans over me as I shiver at the feel of his cock dragging up and down my slick pussy, still wet and glistening from my orgasm. His hand moves up, cupping my jaw before two fingers brush over my lips.

They’re wet.

From me.

“Open your mouth,” he murmurs darkly.

I do, and when his fingers slip inside, I close my lips around them.

“Good girl,” Dante growls, making my eyes bulge as his mouth teases over my neck all the way up to my ear. “Now suck.”

I whimper, my cheeks hollowing as I do as he says. My tongue wraps around his fingers, tasting myself on them.

I taste sweet.

I’m still moaning around his fingers when I feel his cock sink between my pussy lips. My eyes widen, my pulse skips.

My whole body quivers and shudders as he pushes into me.

Holy fucking shit.

He’s so fucking big, it feels like he’s ripping me open. But then the pain turns into something molten and throbbing—something all-consuming and wild as he sinks deeper and deeper into my tightness.

It takes me a moment to realize the whining sound I’m hearing is me and the whimpered, panted moans around his fingers are mine.

He keeps going, burying inch after inch into me as the pressure builds and builds and builds. As he groans and drives the last inch into me, it’s like I’m breaking apart.

Because suddenly, I’m coming.

I scream, my hips bucking off the couch and my legs wrapping tight around his muscled hips. My body shudders and wrenches as the orgasm explodes through me.

…I just came from one thrust.

“Good girl,” Dante murmurs low in my ear as I gasp for air. “Making my cock extra wet so that I can fuck you better.” I shiver as his finger slips from my lips, his hand cupping my jaw at my throat. “Imagine what I’m going to do to you when I actually start to take you.”

His mouth slams to mine as he pulls out and thrusts right back in. My face caves, and I whine into his lips as I cling to him.

Then, Dante truly starts to fuck me.

He’s not gentle, and he’s not tender. His coiled muscles clench and flex against me as his swollen cock pounds deep. His mouth devours mine, and his hands are everywhere as I cling to him and moan.

And it’s so. Fucking. Good.

It’s fast and wild. It’s a blissful agony I’ve never known, and I find myself trying to memorize every moment.

Every groan from his lips.

Every ripple of his muscles.

Every thrust of his thick cock, touching me in places I didn’t know could be touched.

There’s a frenzied madness to the way our hips slam together and the way my nails rake down his shoulders and biceps. The way his hand wraps around my throat as he bites down on my lip and buries himself deep inside.

I’ve done everything I can to forget the one other time I’ve felt this sensation, but it wasn’t even this sensation at all. That time was just violence and pain; humiliation and shutting my mind off from the rest of me.

This time, I let it all wash over me. Every sensation. Every nerve buzzing and exploding.

Dante Sartorre’s no knight in shining armor, but I was never looking for one anyway. What he is, though, is the man who’s taking my virginity.

For real this time.

And Prince Charming or not, and even though this whole marriage is fake, and we’re not really a couple…I want this to be what I remember.

This is what I’m going to consider my first time.

For years, the mere idea of having sex with someone made me feel dirty. And even if I ever did get the slightest flicker of desire for physical intimacy with another person, it would be extinguished by my self-loathing and anger.

But right now, here with Dante, I don’t feel bad about this at all.

I feel freed.

The pulsing, throbbing wave inside me crests higher and higher. My vision blurs, and I lose myself in the sensation of his body pressing to mine, being so deep inside of me, being as close to me as another human can be.

In the sound of his groans and his grunts of pleasure mixing with the whimpered moans of my own. In the feel of his skin against mine, and the intoxicating scent of him invading my senses. One of his hands pins both of mine above my head, and the other clenches possessively on my hip, driving me to his pace.

The tingling throb in my core surges hotter and hotter, until there’s no stopping it.

“Oh fuck…”

I choke as the orgasm hits me like a train, slamming into me and wrenching my body hard. I feel myself clamp down around his thrusting cock, my thighs squeezing tight around his grooved, muscled hips.

The release explodes out of my mouth with a cry of pleasure, just as Dante slams his lips to mine. He swallows my moans, his tongue dancing with mine as he pounds as deep as he can into me. I can feel him throbbing and pulsing, the heat of his cum flooding into me as I drown in the madness of it all.

Then, it’s over.

Every inch of my skin tingles. Every nerve ending thrums and buzzes with an electricity that leaves me shaking. Dante lingers for a moments, his lips brushing against mine as our eyes lock.

Holy shit.

I mean holy. Fucking. Shit.

Slowly, he slides out of me, and I wince slightly at the delicious soreness between my legs. His gaze drops, frowning, and I tense, glancing down as well.

Shit.

There’s some blood on his dick, and a little on my thigh.

“It’s fine,” I blurt quickly, before he can say anything.

Dante slowly raises his eyes to mine. For a second, I think he’s angry. But then I realize it’s more a look of concern.

“Are you hurt?”

“No,” I shake my head. “No, you’re just…” My face heats. “Big.”

He doesn’t respond. But his brow slowly furrows deeper and his sharp blue eyes lock on mine. “Are you on birth control?”

I consider lying for a second. I mean, in a way, I am. The combination of the protein blockers and some of the other meds Dr. Han has me on has made it, in his words, “extremely unlikely, to a near-certain degree” that I could become pregnant. I never pushed for specifics because, well, not having sex is also a great way to avoid pregnancy.

“No.”

The second I say it, something dark flickers in his eyes.

“Shit,” he hisses.

“It’s fine,” I mumble.

“No, Tempest, it’s not,” he growls. “I can do fake marriage.” His eyes narrow on me. “I’m not doing fake parenting.”

“Well, me neither!” I spit.

It’s his insinuation that I for whatever insane reason would want to have a kid with him that pisses me off the most. I awkwardly get to my feet and turn away, my face red as I pull my panties back up, shivering when I feel them cling to the wetness from us both. I shove my skirts back down and start to retie the bodice.

“You should have told me you weren’t on birth control,” Dante mutters.

I whirl on him. “I can’t get pregnant anyway, asshole, so it’s a moot point!”

“Why?”

I ignore him as I turn on my heel and march to the door, wincing a little at the soreness between my legs.

“Tempest.”

“Fuck you, it’s none of your⁠—”

“Thirty minutes ago when I fucking married you,” he snaps at my back. “It very much became my business!”

A roaring sound fills my ears as I angrily fumble at the lock on the door.

“Tempest—”

“Fuck you!”

“Why can’t you get⁠—”

I snap, and I turn on him, all the rage at the unfairness of everything that I’ve been trying to hold back for so long finally erupting out of me.

“Because I’m fucking dying, okay?!”