3. Mia
3
MIA
T here is a heat in Leon’s eyes as he kisses my hand, that makes me momentarily breathless.
For a man who has only exhibited the iciest of demeanors since the moment I stepped into the room, this sudden shift is alarming.
It’s not fair, really. This would all be a lot more bearable if I could draw a very clear line under any physical attraction I felt for him. That way, I’d know for sure if I was acting out of duty as opposed to anything else.
Because logically, I know this man to be soulless, dangerous, and, quite frankly, controlling. I hadn’t missed how easily he’d spouted that nonsense about not tolerating male attention.
For that reason alone, I yank my hand from his grasp at the earliest opportunity.
But, objectively speaking, Leon Natali wasn’t the worst thing I could be looking at right now.
Which makes things a little blurry.
Leon Natali is confusing me with his stupidly intense eyes and gentle touches and his perfectly indecent scent of rum spice and black pepper.
My husband, ladies and gentlemen , I think sarcastically, having to prevent myself from rolling my eyes. What a sham.
“Congratulations,” my father whispers as he goes to kiss my cheek.
I let him, if only for the reassurance that he was still alive and that my decision to marry a mafia don was entirely warranted.
The thing is, there are only two people who would have the power to threaten my father’s life like that.
Fortunately for me, they’re both in this very room.
I turn on Teo Vitale in an instant. “There. Now I’m no longer a thorn in the Guild’s side. I hope you don’t mind taking a walk with me off the edge of Brooklyn fucking Bridge.”
“It was out of my hands, Mia.” The Guild’s don throws his hands up defensively. “I warned you this might happen if you didn’t join us formally.”
“Did I miss a memo? Last I heard, you wanted me to run a casino, not marry your brother-in-law!” I snap right back.
I can feel Leon shifting behind me, clearly growing impatient, but I stubbornly ignore him.
“Where is it you get off, Vitale? Pretending to be my friend, offering me a way out only to pull the rug out from under me? Not a word from you in months, and now this?” I begin to step forward. “I thought we had an understanding, but to threaten my fucking?—”
A hand wraps around my forearm, preventing me from throwing myself forward to strangle Teo with my bare hands.
“I think we’re all a bit tired of this blame game,” Leon’s voice is in my ear, low and bored. His breath against my neck makes me shudder involuntarily. “I have places to be.”
I try to pull my arm from his grasp and fail spectacularly. “Then leave,” I huff back at him.
“Not without you.”
I grimace. “Okay, so you put a ring on my finger, and suddenly I’m your property?”
“Technically, yes.” He sneers down at me in a way that makes me think he’s only saying it to get under my skin. Successfully, I should add. “But in this instance, we have unfinished business.”
I show him my ring finger as if it were my middle finger. “I think our business is concluded.”
He looks away, suddenly looking slightly put out as he examines the chandelier above us quite extensively.
But before I can question it, Cas approaches, pulling me into a half-unwilling hug.
There, with her lips close to my ear, she whispers, “You have to consummate the marriage.”
Oh.
Fuck.
Leon takes a very purposeful step away from my father.
I knew, logically, that this would have to happen eventually, what with the demand on this marriage being to solely produce heirs. But I’d been relying on the idea that I’d have weeks to prepare (and get very, very drunk) to maintain my sanity during all of this.
Now that safety net was being yanked away.
Leon coughs and turns to address Teo. “I assume that today's events will remain secret to all those who are not currently in this room?”
“Mia’s safety will be our collective priority until a child is born. You have my word no one here will endanger her by revealing your union.”
My father relaxes a bit at this news, though he narrows his eyes at the priest, who looks as if he were trying to melt into the background.
Leon nods once before dragging his eyes back to me, suddenly looking unsure. “Then we should depart.”
“Right,” I manage to whisper.
Cas hugs me again, as does my father. I don’t spare a look at Rocco and Teo. Both of them have the common sense to remain silent as I follow Leon out of the room.
There’s a numbness that threatens to take hold of me as he guides us to an elevator. I cling to it like a lifeline instead of thinking about what is about to happen.
But there’s a stubborn, angry fire that prevents me from succumbing entirely. It’s a fire I unleash the second the elevator door closes and we begin our ascent to the highest floor.
“Was it you?” I ask as firmly as I can.
Leon glances down at me with an unreadable expression. “You’re shaking. Mia, I’m not going to force you to?—”
“Was. It. You.”
He sighs. “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”
“Did you or did you not threaten my father’s life?”
Something seems to click behind those unfairly gorgeous brown eyes. “That’s why you agreed to this?”
“You didn’t know?” I frown as a tightness begins to settle within me.
“No, I—” he swallows and looks away. “I need an heir. But there are other…means of acquiring one. I wouldn’t need to threaten your father to do so.”
I look away, too. There’s so much tension in this small space it’s impossible to discern if he’s lying or not. Nor do I know him well enough to make a guess from his body language.
“I’m supposed to take you at your word?”
“It makes little difference whether or not you believe me.”
The elevator doors slide open, and the relief is instantaneous. Leon steps out promptly, and I follow him into what appears to be the penthouse suit. It’s a gorgeous open-plan space with a window that showcases jaw-dropping views of Manhattan.
Well, at least I married into money.
“Would you like a drink?” Leon calls as he wanders over to the kitchen. It seems someone has taken the liberty of stocking our fridge with champagne.
I make my way over to the window for a better look. “Is there anything stronger?”
He doesn’t reply, but a few minutes later, he’s at my side, handing me a generous glass of whiskey.
I down it in one swallow.
He gives me a long look over the rim of his own glass before placing it down. “We don’t have to do this.”
“Except we do for the marriage to be viable,” I counter.
“No one needs to know.”
It was a good point. A strong point, actually. One I wish I’d thought of.
“Unless you’d secretly like to.”
My eyes snap away from the skyline to find a dirty little smile on his face. It’s the first smile I think I’ve seen him wear.
I’m instantly on the defensive. “I think there are possibly a million things I’d rather do.”
“Am I really so abhorrent to you?” he teases, handing me the rest of his drink to finish.
I see what he’s doing; he’s trying to make me relax. It’s a gesture that I might have considered sweet if we weren’t discussing the possibility of sleeping together when we barely know one another.
“You have…agreeable features,” I concede as I down the rest of his whiskey, too.
“I’ve been told they’re more than agreeable.”
“By who, your mirror?”
Leon chuckles at that. It’s a dark sound, one that does things to my stomach, and I find my heart racing again without my permission.
He steps forward slowly, crowding into my space, and for a moment, I think my heart stops entirely.
But then he merely plucks the glass from my hand and pulls away. I do my best to ignore the way his fingers brush against mine, leaving a trail of heat across my skin.
“You’re fairly agreeable to look at yourself,” he admits as casually as if he were commenting on the weather.
It’s infuriating. “You should see me without the dress on.”
That does it. That gets me the reaction I was craving. The flash of warmth in his eyes I noticed earlier appears again as his head snaps to me.
And then…
I’m suddenly pressed up against the window. The distance between us decreases to a hair’s breadth as his broad chest entirely surrounds me. Rum spice and black pepper and that dirty little smile.
“Would you like that?” His voice is low and thick. Teasing yet sure.
I try to focus, try to think as my senses become overwhelmed by him. “For…consummation purposes,” I manage to breathe out, proud of myself for coming up with such a logical excuse under such pressure.
He hums thoughtfully as his head dips down to my ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it good for you.”
“You’re quite sure of yourself,” I say breathlessly, noticing the dark desire in his eyes.
His hand suddenly reaches out, snatching at my thigh, and he hoists it to his hip so that he can slip his leg between mine, pulling our bodies so close there’s barely a place we aren’t touching.
“I have every reason to be.”
I gasp and it’s suddenly a game. His eyes are clearly transfixed by my lips, and I want to put them all over his skin. But I can’t move first, can’t be the first to concede.
“Then get me out of this fucking dress.”
It’s unnerving in the best way how quickly he manhandles me, spinning me in an instant and pressing my front into the cool glass hard enough for another gasp to escape my lips. His hands make quick of the dress, and I shiver as it falls to the floor.
He releases me, stepping back as I turn to face him.
His expression is positively primal as he takes me in. “You were right.”
I quirk an eyebrow and step forward with more confidence than I feel. “About what?”
“This is far more agreeable.”
I know the game is going to end the second he reaches for me. And I let it, surrendering to the moment in front of me.
Hands tangle in my hair as he pulls it from my face, anchoring me there as he dips his head. There’s nothing chaste or respectable about this kiss. It’s filled with pure, unrestrained desire.
And I hate how easy it is to lose myself to the sensation.
His lips move against mine in perfect tandem with my own, as if we already know this particular dance, as if my body instinctively knows his.
Which is entirely impossible, except it’s absolutely insane at the same time.
“Fuck,” he breaths across my lips, pulling me impossibly closer, and yet not close enough at all.
His hands are like shackles, firm and large, skimming over every part of my body, holding my neck, my arms, my waist. He finally grips my ass so firmly that I have to stifle a groan.
All the while, his tongue explores mine with that same strange familiarity. I’m locked in battle, desperate to taste and taste and taste.
I bite down on his bottom lip, and suddenly, his hands drop down to my thighs, and I’m being hoisted up.
I’m a little proud that I don’t shriek at the sudden loss of balance. I do, however, moan as I wrap my legs around his waist and feel just how hard he is beneath me.
The sound makes him kiss me harder, and his hands grip my thighs even more firmly. It’s decisively a very, very possessive gesture and one that makes my heart flutter along with the lust already aching between my legs.
Luckily, Leon seems in no mood to delay our combined relief, walking us back over to the—quite frankly, enormous—bed.
He deposits me on the sheets, and then, with a groan of annoyance that could have been his or mine for all I can tell at this point, he steps back.
“Look at you,” he growls to himself as his eyes bore into my nearly-naked body sprawled before him. The dress hadn’t required a bra, but my thong was still traitorously covering my most intimate self.
I watch as Leon makes quick work of his shirt buttons, still staring at me with an intensity that makes my insides squirm.
There’s too much heat in that look, too much of everything. There’s no way I can survive just lying here without any kind of relief.
My hand reaches down between my thighs and pushes my thong to one side.
“What the fuck are you doing?” His voice comes out half-choked, and it’s suddenly hard to see where the chocolate of his irises ends and his pupils begin.
I ignore him, letting my fingers relieve some of the tension of watching him undress before me. The slickness of my own pussy makes another moan slip from my lips.
The second I close my eyes to enjoy the sensation, my hand is ripped away from my skin—so hard my thong stings the back of my hand as it snaps completely.
I open my eyes (and mouth) to complain, only to find Leon looming over me, his arm pinning my hand above my head. He is deliciously naked.
“I said I’d make it good for you,” he says, shifting upward to allow his own hand to take up residence where mine had been a moment before. In doing so, he gives me an eyeful of his hardened cock for the first time.
I’m not sure if I gasp at his touch between his legs or at the sheer size of his package.
Either way, I arch my back, close my eyes, and try to squish down the fear that prickles across my skin. There’s no possible way I’d be able to take him. I’ve never even seen a man that big, and he dwarfs my usual toys by a significant margin.
He might actually break me in two.
But all conscious thought and worry is brutally interrupted by the presence of his tongue on my clit.
I’d barely noticed him drifting downward, so distracted by internal panic about the size of his cock, but now every fiber of my being feels like it’s been lit on fire.
“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” a voice that sounds like a strangled version of mine begins to chant.
I clench around the finger he has already inside me, then groan as another joins it, opening me up wider and wider. I’m now slick with a seemingly unending amount of wetness.
He hums his approval against the most sensitive point of me, and my fingers find themself pulling desperately at his hair. If he doesn’t stop soon…
The third finger pushes me over that edge. Agonizingly slow and deep, I feel the exact moment his knuckles enter me, and a cry is ripped violently from my vocal cords.
I slam my pelvis into his hand as hard as I can, riding out my orgasm without inhibition, too lost in the feeling of pleasure to think about the situation or the ridiculous hugeness of his throbbing cock hovering threateningly nearby.
Absently, I’m aware that I’m not being quiet. Sounds tumble out of my mouth until I slowly begin to come back to some awareness, and the release fizzles out into glorious satisfaction.
I feel completely and utterly spent.
Which makes my poor, frazzled brain quite confused when Leon’s face appears above me and a firmness presses against my core where his tongue and fingers had just been.
“Consummation,” he informs the probably vacant look on my face.
Vaguely, I know the word is important. Vaguely, I’m aware I might have had reservations about this. But I can’t think of anything more crucial than giving my absolute consent to this man to do whatever the fuck he wants with me.
The pressure between my legs slowly begins to increase, and I open myself wide to accommodate him. I am thoroughly distracted by the kisses now being planted across my chest and up my neck.
Leon’s hand reaches down to coat his length in my juices, but he kisses me at the same time, and all I can focus on is the taste of myself in his mouth.
He fills me inch my glorious inch, slowly and carefully. I begin to get impatient. That ache is already building up again, and I am desperate for some kind of friction.
Without warning, I buck my hips up to meet him.
“FUCK!” I scream as he’s suddenly driven so deep within me that I see stars.
His hands immediately clamp down on my waist, pulling me away. “Don’t do that.”
“What the FUCK!”
“We need to go slowly,” he insists as he pushes into me again with deliberate care.
This time, I’m more prepared, and with a new sense of clarity, I allow him to take back control. He’s carefully working me open, as he has been doing this whole time, I realize with a start.
My body instantly begins to relax as it warms to the sensation of his huge length inside me. I find myself whimpering every time he withdraws.
“Are you all right?” his concerned voice whispers in my ear.
“Just fucking fuck me.”
He needs no more encouragement than that, and I begin to moan again as that aching pressure builds within me once more at the friction of his increasingly hurried strokes.
Time seems to stop and start and stretch and then suddenly, his mouth catches one of my moans as he presses his lips down hard against my own.
The kiss causes pleasure to sing through me just as Leon picks up the pace once more, and I feel myself nearing the edge again.
This time, when I fall off, Leon comes with me.
He clings to me as he spills within me, hands digging into me hard enough to bruise, but I can’t bring myself to care. I want this feeling to last and last and last.
Sex doesn’t feel like this. It’s never felt like this.
And yet, as I sit in the aftermath of my ecstasy, I can’t help but be confronted with an absolute truth: sex with Leon was more incredible than anything else I had ever experienced in my life.