Monster: Made & Broken (A Mafia Bad Boy Romance) (12 page)

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Authors: Nora Ash

Tags: #Bad Boy Mafia Romance

BOOK: Monster: Made & Broken (A Mafia Bad Boy Romance)
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They don’t know,” he said, his voice softer than before.

It took me a little while to fully process that little tidbit. “I’m sorry… you had a video of your father ordering a hit on one of your brothers, and you haven’t told any of them? Why?”

Marcus’ full lips pinched and I saw regret cross his features. And fear. It was an odd emotion to see on the otherwise tough man.


I might not know a lot about what it’s like to be a part of a big crime family, but that seems really wrong. Do you not get along with your brothers? What’s to stop your dad from trying to kill one of them, if they cross him somehow?” Perhaps it was the glass of wine I had before Marcus came home that made me loose-lipped enough to air my shock, but the thought of hiding something this big from your family… I just couldn’t comprehend how he could keep a secret like that.


I won’t let him hurt them,” Marcus said, the gruffness returning to his voice before he emptied the wine from his glass and put it down again. “That’s why I kept that video. To blackmail him if he made a move against any of us.”

The video I had destroyed. I swallowed thickly, suddenly not feeling too great about the direction of the conversation. “Marcus, I…”


If you had refused Brigs, he would have hurt you.” He sighed, putting the plate of nearly untouched pasta down on the table. “We made a deal—your debt to me will be paid in kind. I’ll find another way to keep them safe.”

I bit my lip, not entirely sure if I should be relieved he wasn’t harboring a grudge, or deeply disturbed that he truly believed he was going to impregnate me. I settled on somewhere in between.


You should tell them,” I said, touching his shoulder lightly to draw his attention to me. “It’s the best way you can protect them. Let them know they could be in danger. Your brother who has the baby—Blaine, was it? Shouldn’t he be allowed to protect his own family?”

Marcus’ jaw worked once, twice, before he looked at me. The agony in his stormy eyes took my breath away.


It will splinter the Family,” he said, his voice not much louder than a whisper. “What’s left of it.”

My heart clenched as I stared into his pained gaze. How often did Marcus Steel ever show any vulnerability? Never, was my bet. It was probably the wine that made him lower his barriers now, but it didn’t lessen the impact. Without thinking I reached out and cupped my hand around his cheek, desperate to soothe the pain I saw.


He
killed
your brother, Marcus. You telling the others won’t splinter your family—he already did that. But it might make you able to glue some of the pieces back together. Think of that little kid,” I nodded at Aidan’s picture next to the TV. “You can’t let someone that innocent grow up in a family where his own grandfather might hurt his dad.”

In truth, I don’t know why I was so adamant that he tell his brothers of their father’s betrayal. It shouldn’t have concerned me—I was only here for his protection. But as I stared into Marcus’ eyes I felt the same draw as I had the first night we met. And I knew, despite everything, that I wanted this man to find peace.

Marcus looked at the silver-framed photo of his nephew for a moment. When he returned his focus to me, his eyes were dark with something else—something that made my heart skip a beat and my abdomen clench.


You’re right,” he whispered, a hoarse note to his voice. “A child can’t grow up like this.
Our
child can’t grow up like this.”

I blinked, not expecting that particular turn, but before I could voice an answer, Marcus’ soft lips pressed against mine.

I groaned into his mouth when he separated his lips and teased at the seam of mine with his tongue for access, my body already giving in to the delicious warmth of him. Perhaps it was the wine that made it so easy to wrap my arms around his neck and let him lay me down on the couch without a second thought to how swiftly the mood between us had changed. Where seconds ago my chest was tight with empathy for the big man currently pinning me to the sofa, it now flowed with warmth and just a trickle of excitement as his skilled lips danced over mine.

When he pushed my t-shirt up and bared my breasts, he finally broke our kiss to dip his head lower. I gasped and arched when Marcus closed his mouth around my right nipple, enveloping it in his heat. He swiped his tongue over the little bud until it pebbled under his ministrations and then sucked it deeply.

I whimpered, my fingers finding their way to his silky black hair of their own accord. I clenched my hands in his soft strands for every deep pull of his lips against my nipple until the stimulation became too much. But just as I was about to voice a complaint, Marcus popped his mouth off my now achingly erect nipple and gave me a deep kiss before he switched to the other.

I writhed underneath him, excitement mixing with rapidly mounting desire—a desire that crescendoed when he pushed a hand down my sweatpants and my panties, his fingers finding my clit without pausing to search.


Oh,”
I gasped, jerking hard underneath him at first contact, and again when he rubbed it none too gently. But it felt good, right—he wasn’t terrified of breaking me like he had been the first night we’d spent together, but he was obviously still in control. My body melted, swept away by the maddening bursts of pleasure he elicited from my heated flesh. I grasped at his shirt, desperate to feel more of his skin, and he pulled off my breast so I could get at his buttons, though he never paused his ministrations between my thighs.

The fire in his eyes as he looked down at me made my pussy clench and wet heat flood from my aching core. I wanted him—I wanted all that barely leashed ferocity, all the burning lust and every inch of his powerful body.
God
, I wanted his body! I’d succeeded in getting his shirt open and was greeted by the sight of stack after stack of strong, lean muscle in his abdomen and a chest and arms so strong I wanted to lose myself in his embrace forever.


You’re beautiful,” I whispered—and then gasped hoarsely when he, without warning, pulled my pants off my legs before he returned to my sex, this time pushing two fingers into me, his thumb taking over on my aching bundle of nerves. My pussy opened greedily for him, craving him ever deeper, and I arched my hips, lost to the feel of penetration. I wouldn’t have been ready for it so swiftly with any other man, but Marcus made my body sing.


No,” he said, his voice so rough with lust it was like gravel. The sound of it went straight to my core and I felt myself pulse around his invading fingers.

You
are beautiful, Evelyn. Every inch of you. I want our baby to look just like you.”

I blinked at the distinctly unexpected strand of dirty talk, but was quickly distracted when he forced a third finger into me, making my walls spasm from the hard stretch. I moaned, half in protest, but just then he curved his fingertips into the spongy place on my frontal wall and everything went white with pleasure.


I want to take you until your body gives in, until your womb is bathed in my seed. And then I want to see you grow round with my child. See your pregnant body writhe with pleasure when I make love to you over and over,” he growled, never letting up on the firm pressure against my pulsing G-spot.

I cried out, too wrapped up in the intensity of his touch to object to what he was saying. And, as he fucked me with his fingers and told me how he couldn’t wait to push into me and give me the baby he wanted so bad, I lost the will to protest. I came on his hand to the image of being round with child,
his
child, the ecstasy it brought sweeping me away like a torrent.

Marcus was on me before I could catch my breath, his fingers replaced by something bigger. Hotter. I wrapped my legs around his hips when he pushed in, hilting his cock in my still-fluttering pussy in one, smooth push.


Fuck!”
I whimpered as my channel struggled to adjust. He was so big even three of his fingers hadn’t fully prepared me for the deep penetration nor the sensation of feeling his hot, bare skin skin inside of me for the first time, and I clutched at his shoulders to make him stop for just a moment.

Marcus obeyed my unspoken plea, holding still deep within me while my shuddering core grew accustomed to his presence. He peppered my jawline and throat with heated kisses, fanning the flames in my already smoldering body.

We both felt it the moment I was ready for more.

Marcus lifted up on his hands above me, holding most of his weight in his arms—and then he moved.

I mewled at the sensation of his hard cock sliding halfway out of my pussy, only to drive back in the next second. He took me in long, hard thrusts, grunting every time he bottomed out inside of me, driving moans and cries from my lips.

It wasn’t like the first time we’d had sex. He wasn’t overly gently, wasn’t scared of hurting me anymore, but even though the savage fire in his eyes flamed with every stroke, he never lost his full grip on self-control.

Being underneath him, feeling him take me, was much like riding a barely tamed beast. I felt both supremely powerful and completely at his mercy. It was the most addictive experience in the entire universe.

When I began the climb for my second orgasm of the evening, Marcus was there with me. His hips, which had been pumping against me in strong, fluid motions, snapped down hard when I dug my fingernails into his shoulders and cried out in a wordless plea for more.

If I’d had any grip left on my conscience, I might have feared the minor pain would have snapped his self control once more, but I was mindless in my pursuit of the rush I knew lay just beyond my reach. I ground myself up against his body and cried out when he responded to my fervent demands by shoving his thick cock deep into me, pounding me over and over. I wailed in ecstasy and clung to him as I finally found my release. My mind flooded with endorphins and my body was alight with sensation as I gasped and cried out beneath the man who’d fucked me to completion like no one before him. I was only half-aware of his strangled groan of pleasure when he stilled inside of me, his fingers digging into my hips with bruising strength as the warm rush of his essence flooded into me.

Marcus collapsed on top of me, halfway squishing me into the softness of the couch, but I didn’t mind. I felt warm and safe and so completely, perfectly at peace.

Even when Marcus nuzzled his face against the side of my head and murmured, “You’ll make such a good mother,” I felt nothing but blissful pleasure as I closed my eyes and let the afterglow whisk me away to a dreamless sleep.

 

* * * *

Chapter 14

Evelyn

 

The first thing I noticed when I woke up the next morning was that someone—I suspected Marcus—had carried me from the couch to the bed, and also gotten rid of the rest of my clothes before tucking me in.

The second thing I noticed was the sticky downside of having sex without a condom.

I groaned with equal measures of distaste and misery as I sat up in Marcus’ wide king-sized bed, not entirely sure if the worst part of today was my wine headache or the residue of Marcus’ attempt at impregnating me.

Grunting, I scrambled out of bed, noticing first that Marcus was missing and then the glass of water and two aspirins on the nightstand by my side.

I swallowed both in three large gulps, sending the big brute a thankful thought as the painkillers slipped down my throat. Feeling mildly better already, I grabbed a fresh change of clothes from the weekend bag I’d packed when he took me to my flat and then shuffled toward the bathroom, intent on not looking like something a fraternity spat out after a long weekend.

Marcus’ bathroom was as luxurious and sparse as the rest of his flat, with black marble, glass and chrome dominating all surfaces, and I spent a good twenty minutes in the shower just letting the water wash away my headache and Marcus’ semen. When I wrapped myself in one of his fluffy towels after, I felt like a new person.

Unfortunately, when I lifted off the top of the toilet to reach for the plastic baggy stuffed full of birth control pills I’d hidden there the second Marcus left yesterday, my good mood vanished pretty instantaneously. The cistern was empty. Or, it had water and all the thingamajigs a water cistern should have, but there was no trace of my plastic bag, nor my pills.

I stared at the place the bag should have been safely tugged away as my brain went over every possible scenario that could have led to my birth control pills just up and walking out of there on their own. Unfortunately, it wasn’t having much luck, and I pressed both hands to my face with a groan when I finally accepted the truth.

Somehow, Marcus had been one step ahead of me.


You’ll make such a good mother,”
he’d said last night. I’d assumed it was just a wrap-up of the weird pregnancy fetish thing he’d had going while we were making love, but no. The bastard had probably seen me sneak it into my bag when we were at my flat and planned to pilfer it when I was zonked out on my orgasm high.
Fuck!

I stared down at my abdomen, suddenly having the oddest sensation of carrying around a ticking time bomb in my ovaries. This whole deal had been easy enough to agree to when I’d thought there was no way he was going to get me pregnant anyway, but now…? How the hell was I going to avoid ending up carrying his baby now?

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