Vicious Promise by M. James
Luca
Irritating. Stubborn. Infuriating. Foolish. Reckless.
All of these are adjectives that I could apply to Sofia Ferretti.
They’re also all attributes that I would never choose in a wife.
But when I finally manage to catch my runaway bride with her hand on the doorknob and spin her around and up against the door, that same possessive urge that I felt when I saw her on my bed rushes through me, heating my blood until I feel as if I’m on fire with it.
The only thought in my head is that she’s mine. Sofia Ferretti belongs to me.
And I want her.
Her incessant questions, her refusal to fall in line, and her stupid attempt to escape the penthouse should have only pissed me off. They should have made me change my mind, call Don Rossi, and tell him to come and get her and do what he likes.
Because it’s very clear that if I marry Sofia Ferretti, she is going to be a pain in my ass, so long as we both shall live.
Instead her delicate wrists in my hands, stretched up over her head, only make me think of what it would be like to tie her to my headboard, strip her naked and tease every inch of her body with my tongue until she begs me to let her come. As I push her against the door and feel her struggle uselessly in my grasp, all I can imagine is how she would feel underneath me, her perfect, slender body writhing as I shove every inch of my aching cock inside of her, making her mine in every possible way.
And then her tongue, dragging over the full shape of her lips, makes it impossible for me to think of anything other than kissing them for the first time.
There’s nothing romantic in the image. In that moment, as I hold Sofia Ferretti captive against my front door, I’m not thinking of how to make our first kiss memorable. The only thought in my head is that for some reason, she’s made me want her more than I’ve ever wanted any woman in my entire life. I’m harder than I’ve ever been in my life, frustratingly, achingly aroused, and all I can think of is that I’m one impulse decision away from picking her up and fucking her against this door, here and now.
But she won’t stop asking the same question, over and over: “Why?”
So I shut her up in the best way that I and my almost-painful erection can think of.
I kiss her, hard.
The moment that my lips come down onto hers, she stops struggling. For a perfect, blissful moment, she goes absolutely still, and I have a second to realize that her lips are even softer than I’d imagined. Her bottom lip is full and lush, and it fits perfectly against my mouth—so perfectly in fact that I can’t help myself from sucking it between mine. I sweep my tongue over her lower lip, sliding it against hers, and for the first time I taste just how sweet Sofia’s mouth is. I want to bury my hands into her hair, taste every inch of her, kiss her from her mouth down to her pussy and lick her there until she screams with pleasure. I want to feel those full lips wrapped around me, sliding all the way down as I slide my length into the back of her throat. I want to see that sweet mouth open and waiting as I come all over her tongue.
My cock feels as if it’s about to tear its way out of my trousers.
And then she starts to struggle again.
She cries out, writhing in my grasp, and I react without thinking. I push her backwards against the door, letting her feel the hard ridge of my erection against her thigh as I deepen the kiss, letting go of one of her wrists so that I can run my hand down the side of her body, feeling the lush curve of her breast that dips into her perfect waist, over the swell of her hip—
Christ, I want to fuck her.
I feel Sofia’s tongue sliding against mine, her head slanting to one side as she starts to respond. Yes, I think, satisfaction rushing through me. All I had to do was kiss you. No woman has ever refused me, ever resisted the idea of coming to bed with me. There’s no reason to think that Sofia would be any different, once she got a taste. I grind my hips against hers, letting her feel how thick my cock is, how eager I am to slide it inside of her, to show her how good it can be if she just accepts that this is the way things are—
And then she bites my lip, hard.
I jerk my head back automatically, running my tongue over the stinging spot where her small sharp teeth sank in, and Sofia takes advantage of the momentary space between us to rear back and slap me hard, right across the face.
“Fuck!” I press my hand to my cheek, grabbing her just in time as she starts to open the door. With my face and my cock throbbing now, I manage to get one arm around her waist, picking her up easily as she kicks and writhes in my grasp.
I carry her the few yards across the entrance to the living room, and deposit her inelegantly onto the couch.
Sofia springs up almost immediately, shoving her hair out of her face. Her chest and neck are streaked an angry red now, and her brown eyes are blazing with fury, but she still looks more beautiful than I could have possibly imagined. Her lips are pink and slightly swollen from the kiss, her thick blonde hair tangled around her cheeks, and despite her smudged eye makeup, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a more stunning woman.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she hisses, glaring at me.
“Like what?” I glare at her. “You’re the one who slapped me. All I’ve done is rescue you from Russian sex traffickers, bring you home to my apartment, have you seen by the best doctor in New York City, and offer you a marriage that will keep you safe and cared for as long as you live. And all I get is a bitten lip and a smack across the face.”
“Stop looking at me like you’re picturing me naked.” Sofia lifts her chin. “Because you’re never going to.”
I can feel my gaze darkening as I step towards her. “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Sofia,” I tell her quietly. “Before a week is out, not only will I have seen you naked, but I’ll know every part of your body as intimately as I know my own. You can be sure of that.”
The words slip out before I can stop them, and they startle even me. What happened to one fuck to make it legal, and then never touching her again? Somehow, over the past few hours, I’ve managed to forget that Sofia was only ever supposed to be a contractual agreement. Our marriage, much like the monthly deposit to her account, was meant to be a business deal. Signed, sealed, and filed away for safekeeping.
But nothing about what I want to do to her is businesslike. Nothing about the feelings rushing through me, the way I desperately want to toss her back down onto that couch, shove her dress up above her thighs, and thrust myself inside of her is contractual. She’s making me feel things that I’ve never felt for any woman, want in a way that I’ve never allowed myself to want anything.
It has to stop, and now.
I can’t allow this woman to unman me. Sofia Ferretti is a duty, a box to check, and she needs to remain exactly that. All of the things that she makes me feel, all of the ways she makes me react, are distractions that I don’t need. Emotions that lead to mistakes.
I’m the future Don, the man who is next in line to lead the most powerful criminal organization in the world. A man whose territory is being threatened, whose position and life are in danger.
And it’s not just my life, or Sofia’s. It’s the underbosses, the made men underneath them, everyone who works for Rossi, and me, and now Franco, and the other underbosses and capos. Their lives, and their families lives are at stake. If the Bratva move in on our territory, if they’re allowed to start a war, it will be a bloodbath the likes of which hasn’t been seen in decades.
Right now it’s Don Rossi’s responsibility to keep them safe—to keep all of them safe—but a large portion of that rests on my shoulders. At some point, all of it will.
That reminder is sobering.
I take a step back from Sofia as I regain control, letting out a long breath as I feel the lust, that overwhelming sense of passion and possessiveness, receding.
“You can fight me all you want on this, Sofia, but it won’t change anything. Next Saturday, before man and God, you will become my wife, and this will be settled. We can go over the details of it in the meantime, when you’re calmer, but there is no choice. That’s final.”
She stares at me, wide-eyed and disbelieving. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
I don’t flinch. “You know that I’m not. And what’s more, we’re going to have to do something about that mouth of yours. Good mafia wives don’t talk to their husbands like that.”
Sofia jerks backwards, as if I’ve said something awful. She wraps her arms around herself, shuddering a little as she backs away from me, around to the other side of the couch. “I’m not going to marry you,” she whispers. “I won’t. You can’t force me to say the vows.”
I grit my teeth, biting back the words I want to say. “No,” I admit. “I can’t. But I can keep you here until you understand the gravity of the situation, and I will.”
“I’ll run again. As soon as you leave this room, I swear—”
“Sofia!” For the first time, I raise my voice, and it shocks her into stillness. With two quick strides, I move around the couch to stand in front of her again. “I kept you from leaving the apartment because I don’t feel like chasing you all over hell and back. But you are not going anywhere. Even if you made it to the elevator, there’s a code required to go down after a certain hour. The moment I’m done with this conversation, I will make sure to lock and set the alarm on every exit. And if you somehow managed to get past all of that, I have security all over this building. I’m the only one who lives here. The rest of the units are empty, or devoted to my security teams. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
As I speak, I can see her eyes start to fill with tears as it slowly sinks in. “I am one of the richest men in New York City, Sofia, and second in command to the man who presides over all of it. I have the best security money can buy, out of pure necessity. There are plenty of people who want me dead. And you, too.”
Her lower lip quivers. “I hate you,” she whispers. “I swear on my father’s grave, Luca Romano, I hate you.”
I sigh resignedly. “Be that as it may,” I tell her flatly. “There’s no way out of this, Sofia. At least not one that you would choose.”
And then without another word, I turn on my heel and stalk out of the room.
