4. Marcus
M y barely controlled anger is thrumming through my veins, my body practically vibrating as I storm through the club. Even people who don’t know who I am know to get the fuck out of my way.
The crowded dance floor parts like the Red Sea as I march through, pulling Chloe behind me.
She shouts at me, but the loud music and the sound of my own heart pounding in my ears, blocks her out. I know my grip on her arm is tight enough to bruise, but I don’t fucking care.
Before I pulled her away, my club security was taking care of that arsehole, making sure he knows he’s never welcome in this club again. I’m sure they will be issuing him with a strong warning about the consequences if he talks about what happened tonight as well.
He’s about to learn very quickly that he messed with the wrong person, and given the fact I own half of this town, it’d be really fucking easy to kick him out. I try reminding myself that option is a bit extreme, but when I’m battling my anger, it’s better than killing him.
Just as I reach the back door, that leads to the alley, where we receive our deliveries, Miles steps in front of me. My face contorts into a scowl as I make sure to hold Chloe back, so she can’t hear whatever lecture he’s about to give me.
“What the hell are you doing, Marcus? I thought our job was to stop the Santoro siblings from going off the rails? Unless your plan was to do something so fucking reckless that it eclipsed anything they do, then in which case, you’ve succeeded,” he growls, his hand on my chest, a warning to take a second to think through my actions.
The only problem is, I’m not thinking clearly. Far fucking from it. “I can’t keep an eye on them both. So get your arse back inside and find Jacob. Keep him out of trouble whilst I deal with Chloe,” I state firmly, letting him know there’s no room for negotiating.
Miles narrows his gaze at me, and those piercing blue eyes of his stare at me like he’s trying to read into what I’m not saying. I almost want to squirm under the intensity. He’s always known me too fucking well.
“Maybe I should take Chloe home and you should concentrate on Jacob?” he asks.
I shake my head, my glare narrowing until it’s his turn to squirm. “No. Just do as you’re fucking told, for once, and get out of my way.”
My ice cold tone leaves no room for argument, and with an exaggerated huff, he moves away from the door.
Just as I’m about to step around him, he reaches out once more and places his hand on my arm. This time when I look at him, there’s a softness to his face that’s almost as annoying as his penetrating stare. This is his concerned face, and just for a moment, it makes me regret whatever’s about to happen.
“Don’t do anything stupid that you can’t take back.”
Before I can say anything more, he gives me a small head nod and walks away. The brief pause has given me time to catch my breath, and I’m no longer being driven by the rage flooding through my veins.
Now that I can’t hear my own heart pounding in my ears, and I’m calming down, I’m thinking clearer. Miles’ words of warning echo through my head and logic makes me question what the hell I’m doing.
Or it does until the annoying fucking woman behind me brings it all flooding back.
Chloe’s hand hits the side of my arm just a second before her loud, screeching voice seems to vibrate through me, given how close she is to my ear.
“What the fuck are you doing? Let go of me, you arsehole.”
I have no idea how long she’s been shouting obscenities at me, but it’s not until she hits me and is yelling in my ear that I hear them.
Suddenly, all the rage and irritation comes flooding back, pushing my calm away, like the sea bashing over a sandcastle, as ice floods my veins.
My grip on her arm tightens further, but I care even less now. With my other hand, I press the employee code into the security panel, waiting for it to flash green, before I push the door open, pulling Chloe out with me.
The alley at the back of the club is completely empty, and there are only two ways to get in. One is by car, under a security barrier that’s manned by staff at all times, and the other is through the door we just used. Since there are no deliveries expected tonight, it’s no great surprise that it’s empty.
I pull Chloe until we reach a dead end. With tall buildings on either side, and a large brick wall behind us, there’s very little light at this end of the alley, just a faint flicker of the security light above the door and the moonlight above us.
As soon as we reach the wall, I quickly spin Chloe around and press her back against it—harder than I initially intended, but my anger is running the show once more. I take a step forward, crowding her with my body, as I tower over her.
She gasps when my chest makes contact with hers, and I watch as she tries to take a step back before realising there’s nowhere to go.
Her piercing silver eyes are wide as she stares at me with a mixture of fear, confusion, and what I’m pretty sure is attraction.
She’s not attracted to you, dickhead. She’s scared of you , I tell myself.
She has every reason to hate me, to fear me. It’s how I’ve been trying to make her feel about me for years.
From when she was eight-years-old, and told me she had a crush on me, so I pushed her over… I’ve spent all my time and energy making her see that I’m not the good guy.
She deserves a nice bloke who can give her the world, not someone like me. Particularly since her father would have cut my cock off, and that definitely would have broken the fragile peace treaty.
Making her hate me has been my plan for years, and I thought it was working. But recently, as she’s been going more off the rails, it’s been getting harder to stand by and do nothing. I can tell there’s something going on with her, and I want to know what it is.
I’m very aware I shouldn’t care, and that it’s not my responsibility to try and fix Chloe. In fact, I should be putting all of my effort into sorting out Jacob’s issues, but watching her let that fuckwit put his hands all over her was the final straw.
Jake has been rebelling since our final year of high school, worsening after we were handed the key to the kingdom, and it was always going to happen. Whereas, Chloe’s path to self-destruction is something I didn’t see coming, and that bothers me much more than it should.
Her tiny voice pulls me out of my own head as her breath flutters over my face. “What are you doing?”
There’s none of the bravado she’d had before in the club when she was yelling at me. Now her voice is small and timid, not something I’ve ever associated with Chloe. She’s always been feisty, not afraid to go toe-to-toe with me.
As she stands here beneath me, her body trembling, her eyes wide and fearful, my heart thuds. What the fuck am I doing?
Then the image of that guy's hands all over her flashes onto the back of my eyelids, and the anger floods back.
“The better question is: what the fuck were you doing?”
Upon hearing the accusing edge in my tone, her gaze narrows and the timid girl from before fades away, bringing back the one who loves to argue with me.
“Well, I was dancing before some dickhead jumped the guy I was with,” she snarls, leaning even closer, so I can see her nostrils flare.
“That wasn’t dancing, Chloe. You were a step away from letting him fuck you on the dance floor,” I grind out through gritted teeth, as I ball my free hand into a fist, to stop myself from touching her. My other hand remains flat against the wall above her head, helping me to cage her in.
Chloe manages to get her hands up into the miniscule gap between us, and once her palms are on my chest, she tries to push me away, letting out a small scream of annoyance when she’s not able to move me.
“Are you calling me a slut? Don’t you dare fucking try and slut shame me, Marcus. I’ve seen you and Jacob do much worse with girls on that very dance floor,” she shouts as she punches her fist into my arm.
Using my free hand, I grab hold of both her wrists, lifting them until I can use the hand over her head to grip them both. With her hands restrained above her head, her chest arches in a way that makes her tits look fucking amazing, and it takes all my effort not to stare at them.
I keep my gaze locked on hers, but when her pupils dilate, making her sparkling silver eyes almost black, my cock twitches, hardening even quicker than before.
“I didn’t call you a slut, and even if I did, that wouldn’t be a bad thing.” My voice is deeper and more gravelly than normal, as the anger thrumming through my veins is replaced by something much more potent.
Remember all of the reasons you’re supposed to stay away from this girl! No matter how much I shout it in my head, all the reasons I’ve been focused on for the last few years empty from my brain. My dick is running the show now, and it’s going to get me in so much trouble.
Her brow furrows and she looks at me confused. “What does that even mean?”
She pulls her lower lip in between her teeth, biting down on the bright red shade that makes me imagine smearing it in some very dirty places. I shake my head, trying to concentrate, but she’s so fucking distracting.
“You say the word slut like it’s a bad thing, and I don’t think it is. If the girl chooses the right person to be a slut with, it can be an incredibly powerful experience,” I reply, loving the way her eyes widen with each word.
“Powerful?” she repeats, the pitch raising at the end to make it sound like a question.
“Absolutely. I think if a woman trusts me enough to become a slut for me, that’s a massive honour. She’s willing to give up a little bit of her control, and that’s a big thing, but at the end of the day, she’s still the one with all the power.”
She shakes her head like she disagrees. “How can a woman giving up her control make her powerful?” she asks incredulously.
The corner of my lip tilts up into a smirk, and I’m actually shocked this woman doesn’t know how fucking gorgeous she is and the power that gives her.
“You hand over just a little bit of control, but in return, you get so much more. A good slut has the power to make even the most controlled man lose his senses. A little moan, a sensual kiss, the right touch, you can have even the most important man dropping to his knees to worship you. That’s the power of being a good slut.”
She takes a moment to mull over my words before the corner of her lip tips up into a mischievous smirk. Before I can say anything, she rolls her hips against me, rubbing herself on my hard cock, as if to prove my own point.
A groan I wish I desperately could hold back rips from my throat, and her eyes widen almost comically as her smile grows. I’m losing control of this situation very quickly, and I had a point to make when I dragged her out here.
My grip on her tightens as I pull back slightly, trying to give my dick a bit of space, as I really don’t want to blow a load in my pants, like a teenager who just discovered porn.
Once I’ve made it clear she’s not to move, I gently trail my hand up her body, my fingers ghosting over her ribs. Her breath hitches and her eyes flare dark again.
As soon as I reach the top of her ribs, I lightly brush my fingers over the swell of her breast, before trailing them across her chest to her neck. I spread my fingers out, until they’re encasing her throat, and she’s forced to tilt her head back a little to accommodate me.
I grip just hard enough to let her know I’m the one in control, but it’s not enough to hurt or take her breath away—not yet, anyway. I lean forward until my lips are almost against her ear, and I can’t help the cocky smirk that grows when she shudders beneath my touch.
“But you can only be a good slut with the right guy,” I whisper against her ear. “That fuckwit in there…he was not the right man.”
I press down on her throat, letting her feel how angry I was that she let that jizzbag touch her, when it was painfully obvious she didn’t want him to.
All the confidence she had before seems to leave her, and when she speaks, it’s barely above a stuttered whisper. “H-how do you know h-he wasn’t the right guy?”
It takes all of my control not to roll my eyes. There’s no way that arsehole would know what to do with a girl like Chloe, and I’d bet good money on him having a small cock.
I use my grip on her neck to lift her chin slightly as I lean back, making sure she has no choice but to make eye contact with me. When she tries to close her eyes to avoid me, I squeeze her throat. They pop back open, and at first she looks startled, until anger flares in her molten gaze.
“When you were with him, you looked like his touch repulsed you. I bet you were drier than a fucking desert. When you become a slut for the right guy, your pussy will be dripping wet,” I growl, my mouth practically salivating at the thought of finding out if she’s wet for me.
She shakes her head, disagreeing with me. “It takes more than some dancing and a bit of harmless touching to get some girls wet.”
A harsh laugh rips out of me. “That’s what women tell themselves to excuse the dickless idiots they’re with.”
Her brow furrows and she glares at me, but still she doesn’t fight to get away from me.
“Bullshit. It takes a lot for some women.” Although she tries to sound fierce, she’s a lot less sure now than before.
“That’s bollocks. You’ve just never been with the right guy,” I say, leaning in closer until my breath hits her ear. “And I can prove it.”
I slowly drag my tongue over her earlobe before pressing my lips lightly against the spot on her neck just below her ear. It’s barely the ghost of a kiss, but her breath hitches, and I can feel her heart racing beneath my fingers around her throat.
I keep my lips just hovering over the same spot, leaving her in suspense over if I’m going to kiss her again or not, as I let go of her arms.
“Do not move your hands from above your head or I will punish you,” I state firmly, and she does as she’s told, not moving even a little.
With my free hand, I move it down to the hem of her dress that’s sitting high up on her creamy thighs. I tickle my fingertips over her skin, feeling her shiver beneath my touch.
I snake my hand underneath, bunching it up as I lift my hand further. She’s barely breathing, frozen beneath me as she waits on bated breath for my next move.
As I reach the lacey fabric of her knickers, I run my finger over the outside of the fabric, swiping through her slit, and as soon as I feel her wetness seeping through, it takes all my control not to fall apart.
My cock twitches in my boxers, straining to be free, to the point it’s almost fucking painful. I want to wrap my fingers around my length, as squeezing always helps to relieve some of the throbbing tension, but I don’t have a free hand, and there’s nothing in this fucking world that’s going to make me take my hand away from Chloe’s cunt.
“I thought you said you don’t get wet that easily, Chloe?” I ask, my voice low and dripping with sex.
She tries to shake her head, but given my grip on her throat and my lips against her neck, she doesn’t manage it. “I-I don’t.”
My smirk grows as I hook my finger into her knickers, pulling them to the side. She gasps lightly as the cool air hits her exposed pussy, and I press my lips against her neck, sucking on her flesh until I leave a mark.
I then swipe my finger through her warm slit, groaning as I feel how hot and wet she is. Her moan flutters over my face, and as I look down at her, I take in the blush of her cheeks, the way her mouth has fallen open slightly as she clamps her eyes shut, completely lost in the moment.
As I pull my finger away, her eyes open and she watches me raise my hand until it’s between our heads. We can both see her glistening juices dripping off my finger. Her cheeks flush bright red, and she pulls her lower lip between her teeth, clearly embarrassed that I proved her wrong.
“You look like you’re dripping wet to me,” I point out, before I lean forward and pull my finger into my mouth, sucking her taste off my skin.
My eyes roll at her sweet, salty taste, and I want to scream at myself for such a fucking reckless move. I should have known that as soon as I have one taste of her, it will never be enough. I want to consume her.
Our gazes are locked together, and her eyes widen as she watches me swallow the taste of her from my finger. Her mouth opens and then closes, like she wants to snark back at me, but for once, she’s lost for words.
I decide to capitalise on the moment, and I move my fingers back between her legs. This time when I slide through her slit, I seek out her clit. As soon as I find her hard nub, I circle my fingers around it, spreading her juices as I do.
Chloe’s head falls back as a moan escapes from her lips, and she rocks her hips to try and press my hand against her greedy cunt even more.
She looks so fucking dirty, her legs spread wide for me, rocking her hips against me with her dress up around her waist, her head thrown back against the grungy alley wall.
She’s a rich mafia princess, who always looks so perfectly put together, and I love watching her turn into a dirty slut just for me. I meant what I said to her before, there’s nothing negative about a woman being a slut for the right man.
I may be the one in control of her pleasure right now, but she’s the one with all the power. She says stop and I’ll walk away without hesitation. She’s the one getting all the pleasure, while my cock is straining painfully, trying to get free.
As I rub my fingers over her sensitive nub, her back arches off the wall as she tries to move my hand to where she needs me the most. I press on her throat, just enough to make her neck ache, and to grab her attention.
Her eyes fly open in shock. “Stay still, slut,” I growl.
“I-I’m not…”
Before she can finish her sentence, which no doubt was to tell me she’s not a slut, I cut her off by pressing one of my fingers into her wet hole. Her loud groan echoes through the alleyway, and my dick throbs.
Her hot, wet cunt clamps down on my finger, and even with just one inside her, she feels tight. I can only imagine how amazing she’d feel gripping my cock as I press into her.
As I work my finger faster, her cries of pleasure get louder, and she forgets all about my instruction that she’s not supposed to be moving.
She rocks against me, meeting my movements with one of her own as she chases her release.
I can feel her walls tightening as her pussy gets even wetter than I thought possible. She feels so fucking fantastic. Way better than my shitty imagination has been able to conjure up over the years.
“Oh, fuck… Marcus.”
As soon as my name tumbles from her lips, it’s like someone douses me in a bucket of cold fucking water. Suddenly, I remember who she is, and all the major fucking reasons I’ve stayed away from her over the years. I’ve been deliberately treating her like shit so that this very scenario doesn’t happen.
She’s my best friend’s sister, the daughter of our rival mafia family…and if that’s not enough, she’s fucking engaged to someone else. Another powerful family that would have no qualms about going to war with us over me taking so mething that belongs to them. Yet, all of that seems to have fallen from my brain.
Recently, I’ve watched her go off the rails piece by piece. I’ve been so caught up with Jacob that I’ve managed to ignore Chloe’s rebellious behaviour. But seeing her throw herself at a guy, letting him touch her, when she very clearly didn’t want him to, it was the final straw. She has to have more self-respect than that.
As I said to her, I’m all for her being a slut, as long as it’s with the right guy and it’s what she actually wants. If his touch repulses her, she should have enough self worth to kick him to the curb.
The way she moans my name brings all this flooding back, and I’m so fucking confused. I love the sound of my name on her lips, and I want nothing more than to hear her scream it at the top of her lungs as I give her the orgasm I know she craves. But, I don’t think that will achieve what I need.
I brought her out here to teach her something, and I can’t let my own desire get in the way of that. Besides, if I want to avoid starting a war, I need her to go back to hating me…which means there’s only one possible way this can go.
She rocks her hips against me with a desperate desire to reach the finish line she’s so close to. Her walls flutter around my finger as I flick my thumb over her clit, dragging a deep guttural moan from her lips.
As I feel her start to tighten around me, I quickly pull my finger from her pussy, taking a step back, so my body is no longer crowding hers. She slumps forward as she cries out in frustration, and it’s only my grip on her throat that’s keeping her from falling to the ground.
Her silver eyes are wide open, and while she stares at me, a mixture of emotions flick across her face—confusion, desperation, need, anger, and then hurt. It’s the look right at the end, when she’s jumped straight to the wrong conclusion, that is like an arrow to my heart.
She drops her hands from above her head and begins to pull her dress down, covering herself as her cheeks flush red. Humiliation rushes through her, and she tries to drop her gaze to the ground, but she can’t because of my grip.
Wrapping her tiny hand around my wrist, she tries to pull me off her, but I’m too strong. “Let go of me,” she grinds out, trying to sound strong, but I hear the way her voice cracks at the end, breaking my heart.
She thinks I did all this to mess with her, and that I didn’t really want her. The lack of self-confidence drips from her pores, and I want to find whoever caused her to feel this way and rip their flesh from their bones. No girl this gorgeous should ever feel this low about herself.
I step towards her, closing the gap again, loving the way she gasps at my movement, her body betraying the way she wants to behave.
“I didn’t stop because I don’t want you. I stopped because only good little sluts get to come, and you were not a good little slut tonight. You let that dickhead touch you, when you didn’t want him to. You were willing to let him do things to you that you know you didn’t want. You need to learn to put your needs first, to control?—”
Before I can finish what I’m about to say, Chloe cuts me off. Her voice is full of anger, and my heart breaks as a tear drops from the corner of her eye.
“That’s bullshit. I have no control. You say that I’m the one in control, that I have all the power, yet you're the one who can leave me here like this.”
I reach up and swipe her tear away, brushing my thumb along her cheek in a far to tender way.
“This is different because I’m trying to teach you. I’m trying to show you that you do have all the power, even if you don’t realise it,” I explain, not entirely sure how else to show her.
She lets out a harsh humourless laugh. “If that were the case, I’d be in bliss after an amazing orgasm right now. Instead, I’m frustrated, feeling dirty, and so fucking humiliated.”
“And you don’t think this hurts me?” I snap, as I grab hold of her hand and pull it down between our bodies. I press her small palm against the front of my trousers, forcing her to feel how fucking painfully hard I am right now.
Her eyes widen almost comically, but instead of pulling her hand away like I expect, she shocks me by gripping my length, squeezing in the most fucking ball-tingling way. A low groan rips from my throat and I pull her hand away, watching as her lips tip up into a smirk.
“See…I told you, a good slut has all the power.”
“But I’m not a good slut, otherwise you’d have let me come?” It sounds like a statement, but the way she phrases it at the end is definitely a question.
“Correct.”
“If I promise to be a good slut for you, will you make me come?” she asks, looking up at me with those fucking hypnotic eyes.
No! No, Marcus, remember all the reasons from before. You stopped for a reason.
“We both know you can never be my slut. You belong to someone else, remember?” I point out, hating the way her eyes darken with anger at the reminder.
“Another fucking choice that was taken away from me, forced on me,” she grinds out, and I get the feeling she’s talking about so much more than just her arranged marriage.
“What other choices have been taken from you?” I ask, hoping I’ve caught her in a moment of weakness and that she’ll answer.
Instead, she pushes at my chest, and this time I let her move me back a step. She takes in a couple of deep breaths, like she’s bordering on panicking, and tears are glistening in her eyes again.
“I’ve never made a single choice my entire fucking life,” she snaps.
“And you’d do things differently, if you were the one in control of making the decisions?” I ask.
She nods, but there’s a sadness to her. “There’s no point even thinking about it.”
“What if I say I can help you?”
Her eyes narrow in suspicion, and even I’m not entirely sure where the hell I’m going with this.
“Help me, how?”
“I’m not sure yet, but if I could give you some time, so you can make different choices in your life, what would you say?”
She lets out another humourless laugh. “I’d say you’re talking out of your arse. We both know my life is set on a path that can’t be altered.”
“I might not be able to alter it, but what if I could delay it? Buy you a little time? A short period where you’re allowed to do whatever you want, be who you want. It’ll only be a taste of freedom, but it’s better than nothing,” I explain.
Though I’ve got no fucking idea how I’ll make it happen, if she agrees to it, I’ll move Heaven and fucking Hell to give her what she wants.
“I’d ask what you want in return?”
Her suspicious gaze locks on mine, and the corner of my lip lifts further, widening my smirk. She knows me too well—of course, there’s something I want from her. Well, actually, there’s a lot I want from her, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“If I do this for you, I want your help getting Jacob back on the straight and narrow. He’s falling off the rails harder than you are, but I need him to get his shit together. If not, your father is going to hand over the reins to that dickhead you’re marrying, and I can’t allow that to happen,” I explain, killing two birds with one stone.
“Jake doesn’t want to rule. Getting him to get his head on straight won’t be easy,” she replies timidly.
“But if we work at it together, we stand a good chance.”
She nods like she agrees, but she doesn’t say anything. The silence sits between us, and I can almost see the gears turning in that pretty little head of hers.
“So if I help you get Jacob to take responsibility, you’ll buy me some time away from this arranged marriage?” she asks finally.
I give her a nod, before clarifying, “I can’t guarantee how I’ll do it yet, as I don’t exactly have a plan, but I’ll buy you some time before you have to get married. I’ll get you out of your father’s house, so you can live a little.”
She bites on her lower lip again, like there’s something more she wants to say, but she’s trying to pluck up the courage. I want to tell her to just spit it out, but I don’t. I give her the time she needs, until finally she lets out a little sigh.
“What if I ask you to show me how to be a slut? How to take back all the control?”
My breath hitches and I’m sure my heart fucking stops for a moment. I never, even in my wildest fucking dreams, imagined Chloe would say those words to me. Of course, I want to show her how to be my good little slut, but if I do that, there’s no going back. It’ll put everything at risk.
“Let me think about it,” I reply, not able to turn her down like I should.
Given the smile that spreads across her face, she seems pleased with my answer—she shouldn’t be.
“Be careful when you make a deal with the devil, Mio. You might not like what happens.”
Her eyes widen, and my cocky smirk grows as I drop my hands. I start walking backwards, not wanting to tear my eyes away from her. She’s leaning against the wall, face flushed, panting like she can’t catch her breath, with her skirt up around her waist.
She looks like the perfect slut, and it fucking pains me to walk away from her, knowing how wet and desperate she is.
Just before I turn around, I make sure to give her one more thing to think about. “When you rub your pretty little pussy tonight, make sure it’s me you're thinking about when you come. It will always be me you think about from now on, even when you’re married and he’s fucking you with that tiny dick of his. I’m going to ruin you. Make sure you think about that when you fuck your pussy with your fingers later.”
Her mouth drops open, but I see the way her body trembles at hearing my dirty words. I turn around, not able to look at her anymore without wanting to walk back over and fuck her against the wall.
My cock is throbbing painfully, and even using my hand tonight won’t be enough. I bring my fingers to my lips, trying to drag the last little taste of her off my skin, knowing it will have to be enough for now.
She may have been the one making a deal with the devil, but I’m the one who’ll end up in Hell. Chloe Santoro will be my downfall, and I’m not even sure I care.