Possessive Mafia Vows (Ruthless Billionaire Mafia Kings #4)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

SIENNA

The nightclub. The heavy beat vibrating inside my chest. The sticky heat of too many bodies crammed inside a room, dancing and jumping and swinging each other around like they’re having the best night of their lives.

I lose track of time in the bottom of a shot glass that seems to refill itself on demand. I kiss lots of cheeks, I laugh a lot, head tipped back, raucous laughter that accompanies saying goodbye to the old year. Midnight comes and goes in a frenzy of dance moves that are probably nowhere near as elegant as I imagine in my fuzzy head.

Victoria is right behind me as we leave the restroom, and then she isn’t.

“V?” I push my way through the crowd that seems to close in on me like water filling a room. Panic creeps into my veins. Not for me, but for Victoria who feels out of her comfort zone if she walks the wrong way around the grocery store.

Then I spot Kenickie from Grease .

Or rather, he spots me.

His dark hair is pulled into a perfect quiff that flops over his forehead, but it’s the green eyes that hold my attention. Even in the flashing lights and the hazy atmosphere, I know they are the most perfect green eyes I’ve ever seen. And everything else vanishes.

Apart from the string of beads around my neck. The chunky beads worn by Wilma from The Flintstones , that choose this exact moment to break free and pitter-patter across the floor towards the leather-jacketed demi-God heading my way.

Dear fucking God, shoot me now.

He bends and picks up a stray rock, still warm from my skin, and hands it to me, and I instinctively take it.

To our left, a woman in a white vest and panties dressed as Ripley from Alien , skids on a bead, her arms cartwheeling as a guy in a floor-length black robe catches her. Ordinarily, I’d have been mortified and simultaneously trying not to laugh out loud. But it seems my body has been drained of every emotion other than rip-my-clothes-off-and-devour-me-now desire.

“Cat’s eyes.” I’m still staring when he stands right in front of me.

They crinkle at the corners. “Actually, I’m Kenickie.” He has a faint accent that I can’t place in three words, but I know I want to hear more when I reach up to touch the lines fanning from his eyes.

“You should meet—” I was going to say he should meet my friend Victoria who is dressed as Sandy for the costume party.

But he cuts me off with, “I think I already did.”

He places a warm hand on the small of my back and guides me into him so that our hips are touching. Anyone else, and I’d have slapped their hand away and told them to fuck off, but not my green-eyed Kenickie. The word ‘my’ has already slipped into my vocabulary, and when he raises my hand above my head and spins me around, I focus on the moment our bodies will touch again.

I don’t hear the song that’s playing. We’re dancing to our own tune, every touch of his hand against mine sending electricity through my veins and straight down to my sex. It’s inevitable that we will kiss before the night is over.

When we do, I know that one kiss is never going to be enough. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone more than I want him, and it comes to me in a flash of inspiration that we need to get the hell out of there before it’s time to go our separate ways.

“We should go watch the sunrise.”

I watch his face light up, his eyes glinting like emeralds.

“Where?” he asks.

“Anywhere.”

I slide my hand into his, so easily it’s like they were made to fit together and drag him towards the exit. I look for Victoria. She has literally vanished, but all that matters is that I have Kenickie until sunrise and I’m not going to waste a moment.

We burst onto the sidewalk like we’ve just jumped out of a giant cake— surprise —dragging the heat with us. Kenickie squeezes my hand. I’m like a magnet unable to resist when he pulls me against him, melding our bodies together.

“Mo leanbh alainn.” His lips brush my ear sending shivers down my spine.

I’d never have believed it possible to get so many sensations from my earlobe, but whatever he whispered, I’m already throbbing for him.

“What does that mean?” I can barely hear my own voice over the blood gushing through my veins.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he backs away from the sidewalk and down the alleyway between the nightclub and the building next to it, and I follow. My feet may or may not have touched the ground. It’s immaterial.

“Ta tu uaim.” His lips brush mine.

Whatever he’s saying, he had me at Kenickie back in the club, so I’m not going to question it.

He splays his fingers through my hair and pulls my face closer, those green eyes holding mine in the darkness that has folded us into its cocoon.

We kiss.

Fuck do we kiss.

I wouldn’t be aware if a bulldozer ploughed straight through the buildings on either side of us and buried us beneath a pile of rubble.

His hands are somehow underneath my dress, and do I stop him? Nope. I spread my legs wide, my lips still attached to him and embrace the thrill that shoots the length of my spine when he slides a finger inside me.

He sucks on my bottom lip, nibbling it between his teeth. He licks my face, my neck, my jawline. He sticks his tongue in my ear and curls his finger inside my pussy around the spot that sends my heartbeat racing and my already woozy brain cells reeling.

“What dark magic is this?” I tilt my head back against the damp icy wall and whisper to the night.

“It’s all you.”

He pushes his tongue between my lips and explores my mouth, while his finger rubs and teases and torments my clit, bringing me to the edge and holding me back.

He pulls away, just enough for me to stare into his almond-shaped eyes. “All I’m doing is waking you up. The rest is down to you.”

He makes it sound as if I’ve been sleepwalking all my life. But when he catches the spot again with his finger, it’s all I can do to lean on him to keep myself upright.

“Ta tu agam.” He kisses me long and hard. “I’ve got you.”

My orgasm explodes over his finger. My body shudders, uncontrollably, like I’ve just stepped out of a freezer. All I can think about is, if this was all me, why the fuck have I never felt anything like it before?

He holds me close. Patient. Working me expertly until he hears me whimper.

Then he slides his finger out of me and places it in my mouth. He watches me closely as I lick my own juices from his skin, his gaze so intense, I couldn’t look away if I tried. Then his tongue joins mine, licking and tasting and probing.

“I’ve never tasted anything so sweet.” He kisses my lips, straightens my dress, and holds my waist as if afraid to let me go in case I melt into a puddle of orgasm on the ground at his feet. “Have you?”

I shake my head. “No.”

He takes my hands in his. “Sunrise?”

I’d forgotten all about it, but there is no way I’m walking away from him until we’ve welcomed the new day and the new year together.

It’s an omen. Meeting him in the wee hours of a brand-new spanking-clean year. Like writing the first word on a blank page with a fountain pen. It’s a new story, and we are our own protagonists.

A sleek black car is waiting for us nearby. I don’t ask where it came from or where we’re going. From the first moment I set eyes on him, the world flipped on its axis, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if the vehicle grew wings and flew us high above the glass towers and glittering skyline of New York City.

He looks at me as he drives through the city and across the bridge, a smile tugging his lips permanently upward. “Best sunrise you’ve ever seen?”

He could’ve asked me how old I am, where I live, what I do for a living. All the regular questions people ask each other on a first date. Not that this can be called a date. He found me in a nightclub and made me come all over his finger, the kind of stuff most people only ever read about in a steamy romance novel. I don’t think it qualifies as a date.

He doesn’t even know my name yet.

But this is our story, and we’re writing it our way.

“The Grand Canyon.”

His eyebrows almost disappear beneath the quiff. “You’ve seen it?”

“I went on a road trip one year. Me and my best friend. Before things…” I shrug and stare straight ahead out of the windshield. “We didn’t sleep much that trip. It felt like we were chasing time, you know. Trying to trap it in a net for future use. So, yeah, the Grand Canyon. It felt like we were floating above the rocks in a sea of pink and lilac and gold.”

“A beautiful memory.” When he speaks, it almost sounds as if he’s singing a lullaby. “Mine would be at the Giant’s Causeway in Ireland.”

That’s where the accent is from. I don’t interrupt him though; it’s haunting to listen to.

“I’ll take you there one day. Legend has it that the Causeway was built across the Irish sea by a giant who was trying to reach a rival giant in Scotland.”

“Do you believe the story?”

“Sure, why not.” He shrugs, flashes an easy smile at me from the driver’s seat. “Everyone needs some legend in their life.”

So, that’s it. We’re talking about giants and sunrises when we both hear the screeching of tires across tarmac.

Blinding lights fill the car. Dazzling. I know that the world is dark outside, save for the street lamps lining the highway, but inside, we’re plunged into the kind of glaring whiteness associated with heaven in the movies.

Then, through the stark light comes something huge and rumbling and terrifying. A beast on huge heavy wheels. The car seems to slide out from under us, moving with a mind of its own.

Someone screams. And then the sound of metal on metal replaces the screams inside my head before the world turns from white to black as if every light on the planet has been switched off.