Page 17 of Heartless Sinner

Her eyes flickered with surprise, and I merely shrugged. It was an antiquated custom, I could admit, but it was necessary in our world. Marriages were rarely between two people in love—they were alliances. They were political. Asking for the father’s (or, sometimes, mother’s) permission to marry their daughter was a sign of respect, and I owed Andrei at least that much.

“He’ll want to make sure I’m all right, too,” she noted. “If my father was attacked, then whoever is responsible might be after my brother, and myself, as well.”

Fury filled my chest at the idea of someone so much as touching Marla, like a dragon roaring in my chest. If someone had plans to try and attack or kill her… then it was a hell of a lucky break that she was with me tonight.

“Marla.” I wanted to reach out and take her hand, but for one of the few times in my life, I found myself hesitant. Would such casual intimacy be allowed, or would she outright reject the gesture? “Did you tell anyone where you were tonight? Or what you were doing?”

She shook her head. “No, absolutely nobody. I didn’t want anyone to speculate before things between you and I were solidified.”

Smart girl. “All right. Good. That means if you were a target, whoever is doing this probably went to your home.”

“I haven’t heard anything about Alexander,” Toby said of Marla’s remaining brother. “But he hasn’t been heard from for a few hours. He was supposed to be at a poker night with friends.”

“The game is held in the back of a Chinese restaurant,” Marla supplied, crossing her arms over her chest. “He’s a regular, him and some other sons from families same as us. They’re too low-level to get into the really high stakes games.”

“I’ll look into this. You should stay here,” I said to Marla, then glanced at Toby. “You’re with me. Let’s get some of our best security on this place. I need them watching her just in case. Nobody goes in or out except me and you.” It was in situations like this where trusting your men was paramount.

If Alexander Preston had been murdered, that meant Marla was now the heir to her family. And that was going to change things. Women could be heirs, of course, but the mafia were an old-fashioned lot. And woman or no, having only one heir left… that put a lot of pressure on Marla. And a lot of eyes on her.

Marla frowned, that stubborn one I was beginning to know intimately. “I’m not going to stay here. There’s no way my father will let you in if you’re by yourself. I have to come with you.”

“If they’ve managed to do anything to your brother and you’re the only heir left…”

“Are you suggesting that you can’t protect me outside of this apartment?” Marla raised an eyebrow.

Jesus, Christ. So, she was going to play it like that, was she? I’d just given this woman two orgasms and now she was challenging me on my skills as a capo.

You did want someone with fire, I noted to myself. I’d quite literally asked for this, I couldn’t get annoyed now. And she did have a point even if I hated to admit it. What reason did her father have to trust me?

“Fine. I want a full team.” I looked at Toby, who hurried to obey.

I gestured towards the bathroom down the hall. I had an open-concept living room and kitchen area by the front door so that nobody could sneak up on me either by entering the apartment or when I walked in, but further back I had a separate bedroom, office, and bathroom.

“You’ll want to clean up,” I told Marla.

She looked down at herself and went scarlet when she remember what we’d been doing just a short while ago. “Um, yes, yes I… um. I’ll be back.”

I pulled out my phone and placed a call to one of our runners. He was dating the manager of a 5th Avenue department store, and I had him borrow her keys to sneak in and get Marla something to change into. She shouldn’t wear a soiled dress while meeting her parents after a damn assassination attempt.

Speaking of which, I had to change my own pants.

While in my bedroom I could hear the water running in the bathroom sink down the hall, and my cock, which hadn’t ever softened completely, twitched again with renewed interest. The possessive, hungry part of my mind whispered that it would take Toby a few minutes to gather the team… surely I could fuck her against the sink, dive into all of that sweet, tight heat, feel her body contract around me…

I shook myself out of my lustful thoughts. The woman nearly lost her father, this wasn’t the time for a quick fuck. Besides, two orgasms or no, I wanted to take my time with her when I finally got her into my bed. I wasn’t going to be some two-pump chump the first time I slid my cock inside her.

Grabbing some tissues out of the nightstand, I took my dick in hand and stroked myself quickly, economically, grinding my teeth to keep the noises from escaping my throat as I imagined fucking Marla on the kitchen island the way I’d been about to before Toby interrupted us. The clasp of her tight body as I drove to the hilt, how she’d wrap her toned legs around my waist and take me infinitely deeper, and the way she’d look as I stroked her clit until she pulsed around my cock with yet another climax before I spilled my own release inside her, marking her as mine.

The filthy fantasy was enough to make me come hard and fast into the tissues, my chest heaving, and the sexual tension in my body finally dissipating so I could fully concentrate on the task ahead. The temptation to say damn it all and fuck someone hadn’t ever happened to me before. I’d always been a workaholic, and it was why dear old Dad was so damn frustrated with my single status.

But now… now I wanted to forget everything else and immerse myself in Marla, learning every little piece of her body, her mind—and we had what looked like the beginnings of a damn war on our hands.

I cleaned myself up quickly, put on a pair of jeans, a button up shirt, and leather jacket, and prepped for battle. We had to be prepared for anything.

When I emerged from my bedroom with my Glock tucked into the back waistband of my jeans, hidden beneath my jacket, I knocked on the bathroom door. “Marla? You ready?”

There was a pause, and then Marla opened the door. I noticed she had taken the opportunity to tone down her makeup and hair, both of which she’d styled for a date. She’d pulled her dark curls into a ponytail while washing away her smokey eyeshadow and dark lipstick, giving herself a more natural, understated look.

She understood the benefit of appearances, and how important they were. Everything I learned about this woman made me more certain that she was the perfect wife for me.

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