Page 73 of Marrying the Mobster
“You’re still owed your pound of flesh,” he murmurs against my ear, sweeping one arm toward the wall of torture tools waiting to be used. “Take it,gatita. Take what’s yours by right, as my queen.”
He kisses my neck before releasing me, melting into the shadows and giving me free reign. I move with slow steps, my gaze roaming over gleaming blades, heavy bludgeons, garrotes, saws and axes, and a collection of medieval-looking things I don’t even know how to name, let alone use. I take a hammer and a pair of sharp garden sheers from the wall and turn back to Viktor.
For the first time, he looks nervous, his gaze darting from the hammer I hold in one hand, to the shears I clutch in the other.
My upper lip curls into a sneer as I stand over him, drunk off the fear in his eyes. He was so frightening before, which seems ridiculous now. He smells like a sewer and has lost at least thirty pounds in his time of captivity. It almost seems unfair to attack a wounded animal who can’t put up a fight … almost. I was helpless when he knocked me unconscious and took off my clothes. I was wounded when he slapped and punched me and put his hands in places that made my skin crawl. Now, it’s time for him to pay for it.
His first bloodcurdling scream is the sweetest; uninhibited and echoing through the dark room when I bring the hammer down on one kneecap, then the other. The chair shakes beneath his weight as he thrashes and howls, but it’s nailed to the floor and the straps are buckled tight. He isn’t going anywhere.
“Look at me,” I command, holding up the hammer stained with his blood. “I want you to look at me and remember this moment for the rest of your life … the moment you finally realize that you fucked with the wrong bitch.”
His eyes well with tears and he lets out another pitiful scream, which breaks off onto a broken sob when I drop to one knee and bring the hammer down onto his bare foot—the one he used to kick me in the chest. I shatter his shin next, strangely hypnotized at the way the skin and bone make a hollow dent, like a crater.
“I can see why you get off on this,” I say, as if we’re talking about caviar instead of torture. “It’s intoxicating, knowing someone is at your mercy and can’t escape. Is that what gets you hard, you sick fuck?”
Viktor’s only reply is another chorus of screams as I use the hammer to destroy his left hand … the one he slapped and punched me with, the one that left its fingerprints on my breast. Then, I toss the hammer aside and lift the shears. My chest burns and my arms ache from the effort it took to swing that hammer hard enough to break bones. But I’m not finished with him yet. There’s still his other hand … the one that pawed at me when I was at my weakest. The one that violated me in the worst of ways.
I stare down at that hand, strapped to the arm of the chair, his fist clenched as he squirms and moans in pain. I press the sharp tip of the shears between his knuckles until he uncurls his fist. Then, I grip his index finger between the shears and look into his eyes. I want him to know exactly why I’m doing this, to remember how his own actions led to this outcome. I feel nauseous as I remember him groping between my legs, fingering me through my panties and trying to force his way in.
With a sharp cry, I close the sheers and twist, cutting through flesh and grunting as I wrench and crack the bone. Viktor has lost his voice by now, and his screams are now rasping wheezes as I toss the finger aside with bloody hands and move on to the next. By the time I finish, leaving him only with the pitiful stump of his thumb, he’s out cold, his chin slumped against his chest.
Panting and snarling like a deranged animal, I drop the sheers and stand in my moment of triumph. I thought I had freed myself of Viktor, but Diego knew better. He knew that this was what I needed to truly put it all behind me. Now, I’m ready to live my life as a new woman … with the man who is responsible for making me stronger, harder, fiercer.
Diego appears at my side, holding one of the blades over the flame of a lighter. “We don’t want him bleeding to death,” he says, heating the knife until it glows red. Then, he presses the flat side of the metal against the stumps of Viktor’s hand, filling the room with the scent of searing flesh. Viktor doesn’t stir, but when he wakes up, he’ll be in for a world of hurt and a long recovery. I doubt he’ll ever walk again, and he’ll never be able to grip a gun or swing a fist with the same lethal accuracy. He’ll be walking prey, marked with the shame of having crossed the king of the Pérez Family.
Diego turns to face me then, his chest heaving and his eye burning like hot coals. Through his sweatpants his cock is at full-mast, tending the fabric. “Fuck,gatita,” he growls. “I don’t think I’ve ever found you sexier.”
The tension between us has finally reached its breaking point, and I can’t wait another minute. I don’t take the time to be concerned that the dark atmosphere of this room is adding to my arousal, making me feel powerful and closer to Diego than I ever have. There’s nothing left to question. After all, I let myself fall in love with a kidnapping, murdering loan shark with a mean streak. He’s ruthless and cruel and flawed … and he’s all mine.
I pull my shirt off over my head while holding his gaze, leaving streaks of Viktor’s blood along my belly. Diego seems frozen in place, lips parted as he watches me peel off my sports bra, then kick off my shoes.
“Elena,” he says. “Are you sure … right now? Here?”
“Yes,” I reply, shimmying out of my leggings. “I’m ready. I want you so fucking bad. Get over here.”
That’s all it takes to close the distance between us. Before I can push my panties down, Diego is on me, lifting me off my feet and carrying me to the surgeon’s table. The cool metal kisses my back, and his lips crash into mine with unleashed passion. I moan and arch under him, submitting when he takes my arms and stretches them over my head. His fingers clench around both my wrists, while his other hand runs down my body, squeezing each of my breasts and working my nipples into stiff peaks.
“I missed you,gatita,” he rasps, kissing his way down my neck and licking at one of my aching nipples. “I missed you so fucking much.”
“Yes,” I moan, each lap of his tongue at my nipple sending jolts of intense pleasure between my legs. My clit throbs, and I know it won’t take long for him to get me off. I’m so wound up, wanting him so badly it hurts. “I missed you, too.”
We’re both beyond taking things slow, the reunion of our bodies too important, too urgent for romance and sensuality. We’ll have that later tonight, when the end of the day and the privacy of our bedroom brings us into a cocoon of happiness and love. This isn’t about feeling cherished or being reassured. This is a new contract between us, forged in fire and flesh and blood … the start of our new lives, for real this time.
Diego releases my hands, and I tear his shirt off over his head as he curls his fingers in the sides of my panties and yanks, tearing the fabric. Then he spreads my legs wide and pushes my knees up toward my chest, lowering his head between them. He flattens his tongue against my pussy and drags it up my slit, swirling over my clit and lapping up my wetness. I grip his shoulders and grind against his mouth, leaving streaks of crimson over his bared skin. Diego moans with his face buried in my cunt, as if I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted. He licks and sucks and makes me wetter and wetter, tonguing my opening and the tight pucker of my ass.
In a dizzying move, he snatches my legs back down, jerks me up and spins me around. He grips the back of my neck and pushes me so my torso is flat against the cold steel. Using one foot to push my legs as wide as they’ll go, he fumbles with his clothes for a few seconds before the blunt, wide head of his cock press between my ass cheeks.
I grab hold of two leather straps, the buckles biting into my palms as I push back against him, welcoming him into my body—whatever part of it he wants to fill. All of me belongs to him, and allowing myself to acknowledge that feels like freedom to me. It feels like coming home.
“Beg me,” he commands, gripping his cock and using it to tease me. His head slides along my slick folds as he coats himself in my juices.
“Fuck me,” I moan, arching my back and wiggling my hips to rub myself against him. He’s so close to being inside me, and I can’t wait another second. “Please, Diego … I need you. Fuck me hard and fast.”
Diego grips my hips and slams into me with one forceful stroke, pushing me against the table. The hard edge of it digs into my groin and puts pressure on my pulsing clit. Tangling one hand in my hair, he yanks until I see stars, and drives in and out of me in a dizzying rhythm. Harsh grunts emit from him with each stroke, his pelvis smacking against my ass as he takes and takes and takes. Each battering thrust ripples through my entire body, filling every space and leaving room for nothing but him.
I come within seconds, my body having starved for his touch for weeks. Pushing my hips back into him, I scream my ecstasy, my pussy contracting so hard I can hardly breathe through the spasms of pure pleasure. Diego waits until I’ve gone limp beneath him to pull out, then he fills me with two fingers and starts working me toward another climax. My insides twist into knots, and I can’t decide if what I’m feeling now is pleasure or pain. I’m too sensitive after the first orgasm, but Diego teases my G-spot with relentless precision, coaxing more wetness from me, pushing me back over that steep edge.
The second climax is more powerful than the first, and Diego has to pin me down with his other arm to keep me from falling to my knees. His fingers curl and twist inside me, making it last, making me scream for him in mindless euphoria. Then, he’s circling my anus with his slick fingers, using my own juices as lubricant. The stretch and burn of a finger invading me comes next, his cock slipping back into my core, where I’m still sopping wet and throbbing. He’s impatient, but so am I, pushing back onto that finger, then accepting a second, letting him take what he wants. His palm smacks one ass cheek, then another, adding more unbearable heat to the fire tearing through me. I feel like I’ve been drugged, all the tension leeched from my body and making it easier for him to prepare me to take his cock.
