Page 27 of Vicious Vows

"You're mine, Micah," he says with an air of possession. His voice is rough, a stark contrast to the softness of his touch. It's a reminder that this is not just about pleasure—it's about control. And yet, paradoxically, that only excites me further.

Before I can respond, he thrusts into me. A gasp tears through my throat, and my body arches against his, the sudden intrusion both a shock and a pleasure. My hands grip onto the sheets below me as my body adjusts to his size. He's gentle at first, setting a maddeningly slow pace that only amplifies the raw sensations coursing through me.

"Luke..." I whisper his name, giving in to him completely, entrusting him with my body, with my pleasure, with who I am. It's madness how much I trust this man, but in these intimate moments of shared desire and passion, it doesn't seem so crazy.

His hand continues to stroke my clit in time with his thrusts, and it isn’t long before I can feel the building wave of ecstasy cresting within me. My breath hitches, the room around us fading as I drown in a sea of pleasure that's both overwhelming and intoxicating. A guttural moan escapes my lips, echoing off the walls, but it isn’t until his palm connects with my ass in a hard slap that I spill over the edge. My body clenches around his dick, convulsing and spasming.

The tremors have my stomach doubling, screams buried in the comforter as he fucks me harder. Hair covers my face. His hand comes down on my ass again and again, and all I can do is rideit out, helpless against his erotic assault on me. Never has it felt this amazing. Never have I wanted to feel his cock throb inside me so badly.

"That's it... let go for me," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. His hand tightens on my hip, guiding me through the trembling aftershocks of my release. And then he thrusts deeper, quickening his pace until his own climax hits him. He cries out, burying himself deep within me as the world shatters around us. There is a moment of pure, raw intensity where we share each other’s ecstasy, our bodies intertwined in a dance of carnal desire. I can feel his heart pounding against my back, matching the rhythm of my own.

Gradually, he slows his thrusts until he's finally still, collapsing onto me. His heavy weight is comforting, grounding me as reality seeps back into my senses. The room is filled with the scents of sweat and sex, a testament to our lust-filled encounter. And when he rolls to the side, pulling me against his chest, I feel no different than I have any previous time we’ve had sex—sated, comfortable, and connected.

Except for one thing. This time, I know the dangerous things at play in his world. Men willing to brazenly cheat at his games and infiltrate his businesses for nefarious purposes. But what if those same men, the ones from whom I’m stealing, come after me?

Can he stop them? Or will I be the next casualty in this war into which I’ve been forcibly conscripted?

20

LUKE

The alarm on the slot machine to my right sounds as the man seated at it pulls the handle and hits the jackpot. To him, it’s a big one, two thousand dollars for the few pennies he’s inserted into the contraption, but to me, it’s all in a day’s work. Wins like that happen once or twice a month at the very most, and if it keeps people believing that their little pocket change can transform into millions, then let them play. By the end of the day, he’ll be down a few hundred dollars, and all those winnings will be sown back into the fertile soil of my empire.

“He seems happy.” Vic nods at the man as we pass by the man who struggles with his little bucket of change as the slot attendant strolls up to him.

“Give him all the free beer he wants while he’s here,” I tell him, knowing the best way to keep a man behind a machine like that is free drinks. We make enough to give every alcoholic in town his fill in liquor. They’d drop a hundred bucks an hour in drinks, but the way gamblers work, they spend far more than that on bets.

“I heard our card counters are down for the count?” Vic isn’t in the loop of what’s going on higher up in the business, but only because we’ve been preoccupied with other things, namely securing Micah’s family interest. Heat has turned up a lot with folks scoping out her father’s jewelry store and home. My gut tells me the Russians have gotten wise to my plan, but the only play they have is to hurt her or her family. They’ll never get near my riches, and unless they hire their own hacker who is smarter or more talented than Micah, they’ll never beat me at my own game.

Her family, on the other hand, is her weak spot, evidenced by her attempt to get out of my security measures to go to them and her friends. With my guards in place following my protocols, she’s untouchable and her work is untraceable. But her father and brother are vulnerable. I know if something happens to them, she’ll blame me and never forgive me, so I’ve already increased security there. As for the friend, I haven’t seen him and he’s on his own if he isn’t even bothering to talk to her.

“In county lockup awaiting trial,” I tell him, realizing he has been so busy guarding the store, he doesn’t even know the latest news.

“Well, that’s good. That was a good save on Micah’s part with the camera. Imagine how much gold they could have moved, how many times they could have accessed the vault.” He pushes his sleeves up and then presses the elevator call button as we stop to wait for it.

I do think about that. I think about it every night as I go to sleep how Micah saved our asses with her quick thinking and fast wit. I also think about how she’s grown quiet on me now. She’s in my bed again, but she isn’t the same. Her presence seems hollow and cold now, even withdrawn. I see her checking her phone more often, a worried expression on her face as she’s hacking.

“Why don’t you go on up to talk to Chris? Let him know we need machine thirty-four swept now. And if you see Mark, have him call me. I’d like him to do a check on the jewelry store. We have a few guys over there, but I think we should double up now.” I button my suit coat and step back from the elevator as the doors slide open.

I want to head home, be with my wife now, see if I can get through to her and find out why she’s sullen and distant all of a sudden.

“Sure thing, Boss. You sure you’re good alone?” he asks, and I nod at him. This is my property, complete with security cameras at every angle. There isn’t a blind spot in the building other than the restrooms, and only because state law doesn’t permit those.

Turning, I head toward the back door, weaving through the staff-only portion of the casino. I receive a few head nods from casino staff and swipe my badge at the back door to let myself out. It’s a chilly day, fall beginning to settle over the city, and I walk briskly toward my car, using remote start to get it prepared for my short drive home.

But as I round the corner of the building, I’m taken by surprise as two large men with full beards and menacing eyes cut me off. They stand between me and my ride home, chests puffed out, arms crossed over their chests.

“Mr. Santoro,” one of them says in a thick Russian accent, “we need a word with you.”

His friend, whose eyes seem to bore into me, steps forward and stands a bit straighter. The black leather jackets they wear are embroidered with an insignia, a sickle and a hammer with a redstar, just like the flag under which they serve. They’re not here to talk. Their posture makes it clear.

“Fellas, I don’t have time to talk. I have to get home to my beautiful wife.” I sidestep, trying to pass them, but the larger of the two steps in my way, preventing me from proceeding. “I said, I have to go.”

I’m hot under the collar as a default, but these assholes are making my temper flare. I grit my teeth and take a step backward. If I have to, I’ll put them in their place, but I will not throw the first punch. I don’t feel like going downtown to be processed for assault charges today.

“I said we should talk, Mr. Santoro.” The first man pushes his friend backward and stands toe to toe with me. He’s easily a few inches taller than me, but I’m still not intimidated by them. My security cameras are getting this all on tape. Besides, I know what I’m capable of and even two men this size are no match for me.

“You should make an appointment,” I tell him, looking him directly in the eyes. Men like this only have one thing in mind and it isn’t talking.

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