Savage Mafia King (Vicious Heirs #3)

Chapter Seven—Marcus

I can feel her breath on my skin, the heat of it, her presence so close to me that it electrifies my entire body. As she gazes into my eyes, that sweet, innocent stare, all I want to do is ruin her.

Sliding my hand to her waist, I let my fingers trail down toward her ass and grope her roughly through her blue velvet dress. I half expect her to brush my hands away, but she just gasps, arching her back and pressing herself into me, just like she did when we were dancing.

I slip my tongue into her mouth, then let my teeth catch on her lower lip for a moment. I feel her moaning, and my cock stirs to hardness at once. I can't wait to hear her moan while I'm buried inside her, up to the hilt, to watch her face as she comes on my cock. I kiss her harder, and her fingers rake down my back, needy. I love feeling her like this, feeling her give in to me and this desire that has coursed between the two of us since the moment we met. It might not be a good idea, but as I grab her hand and pull it toward my erection, I find it hard to give a damn.

You see how fucking hard you make me, baby? I don't even need to say the words out loud, she knows what I'm trying to show her. I feel her gasp and rub my cock against her palm. Even through my pants, it feels so fucking good. I can only imagine how much better it will feel when she has her hand wrapped around me for real, stroking me, getting me off.

But I need to know just how hot she is for me, too. I let my hand trace down to her thigh, and her legs open as if on instinct. Gliding my fingers upward, I expect to be met by the fabric of her panties, but there's nothing there. Good girl, going without underwear. She knew there would be no reason to wear them if we were together.

Finally, I trail my finger along the outside of her pussy, her soft folds so tempting that it takes everything I have not to just lift her up and open her legs and bury my face into her. But I'm going to take my time. I'm going to make her beg for me.

My fingers dip into her slick pussy, and—

I wake up with a start, my head snapping up from the pillow. The dream is so vivid that I can still practically feel her silky-soft pussy beneath my fingertips, can almost feel her mouth against mine as she pleads with me for more.

I run a hand through my hair and remind myself where I am—in bed, alone. No girl beside me, let alone a girl like her. And it's far from a good sign that I'm starting to dream about her. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to contain myself, if my brain is already throwing these sexy curveballs at me when I close my eyes.

My phone buzzes, and I reach over to pick it up from my bedside table before I have a chance to think twice.

"Hello?"

"Marcus?"

It's her. Her voice is shaky, and I snap upright, already worried about her.

"Isabella? What's going on?"

"I-I don't know," she confesses, her voice trembling helplessly. "I just... I thought I was okay, but I..."

"What happened, Isabella?"

I get to my feet and begin to pace. Much as I don't want to think about anything happening to her, I know that there's a chance she's gotten pulled into something she can't handle. After the way everything went down the night before, I wonder if someone has made a move against her, maybe after overhearing the way I was talking to her.

She draws in a deep, shaky breath and finally manages to get the words out. "I-I came back to my penthouse yesterday," she confesses. "And it was trashed, Marcus. Someone was in here and tore the place apart. I don't know what to make of it, I feel like..." She trails off again, and this time, I can hear her starting to cry.

I hate it. I run my hand through my hair, biting back a curse.

"Why didn't you tell me yesterday?"

"I thought I could handle it," she admits. "But I... I woke up this morning, and I saw everything and the note, and I just couldn't take it anymore. I feel so violated, knowing someone went through my stuff like this, it's..."

"The note? What are you talking about?"

"They left a note, whoever did this, warning me that things were only going to get worse..."

"Stay there," I reply. "I'm coming to get you."

She breathes a sigh of relief. Whether or not she's willing to admit it, this is exactly what she wanted. "Thank you, Marcus."

I hang up the phone and get dressed and make my way downstairs. Gio is in the kitchen, and he calls out to me as I go past.

"You running off to your girl, Marcus?"

I round on him. "How the hell did you know I was going to her?"

He stares at me for a moment, his eyebrows raised. "I didn't. What's going on?"

I stride toward him, blind anger clouding my vision. I'm sure that it's going to do me no good to turn this on him, not when he's clearly so oblivious to what's going on, but I won't let him just say whatever he wants.

"Was it you? Huh?"

"Was what me?" he spits back, facing me head-on as I reach him.

The two of us might be cousins, but I know that he doesn't like Isabella, and it wouldn't surprise me if he pulled something to try and scare her off.

"Were you the one who trashed her penthouse?"

His eyes widen, and he shakes his head. "Jesus, Marcus, no. I wouldn't do something like that."

"You've had a lot to say about her," I remind him, a threatening tone to my voice. "Who's to say you wouldn't have done something to try and scare her off?"

"I trust you to handle your shit. And I don't need to get myself involved. No matter how stupid I think you're being." He eyes me for a long moment, not saying anything. "You know what you're doing here, don't you?"

"What do you mean?" I reply as I turn away and pour myself a coffee from the pot sitting on the counter. I gulp down half of it in one go.

"I mean, do you know how to keep your feelings out of this?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "Why would you think I'd have any issue with that?"

"Look at you," he replies, gesturing to me. "You're ready to take off right here and now to check on her."

"Because someone broke into her penthouse. I'm not an asshole. I'm not going to leave her to deal with that all alone."

"Right, right," he replies, cocking an eyebrow. "Well, I won't keep you. You should get going."

I don't need his judgment right now. I make for the door and head to my car, driving fast across the city to get to her.

When I arrive at her apartment building, she's already standing outside, and she looks pale. Dark rings surround her eyes, and I can tell she's having a hard time keeping it together. I climb out of the car and pull her into my arms, pressing my face against her neck and holding her close. She leans into me, clearly grateful for my presence, and right now, I'll do anything it takes to make things better.

"Let me see what happened in there," I tell her softly, and she hesitates for a moment.

"I don't want to go back in..."

I hold my hand out. "Give me the keys. I'll do it myself."

She does as she's told, seemingly moving on some kind of autopilot, which is a good thing. Right now, I just need her to give me the keys. I need to see what happened up there, need to find out how bad things are and how much danger she might be in. I hate the thought of someone causing her trouble like this, even if I know that kind of danger comes with our line of work.

When I reach the penthouse, it's a mess. It looks like she's gone to some effort to try and put it right, but there's no ignoring the chaos in here. When I think about where she lives, I imagine somewhere utterly cultivated, laid out in slightly anal perfection. But this?

I make my way through the penthouse, taking it all in. Stuff has been pulled from the cabinets, chairs have been turned over, the fridge is empty, with bottles sitting next to the sink where they've been emptied. Whoever did this did it because they wanted to make a point damn clear, but who would have gone to these lengths to cause her this kind of trouble?

I find the note balled up in her trashcan in the bedroom, and sure enough, it's exactly what she said it would be—a warning telling her that this is only just starting. But what is only just starting? Who has done this to her?

When I return to the outside of the apartment building, she's still standing there, staring into space, like she's on another planet. I put my arm around her and guide her toward my car.

"You're staying with me."

"What?" she gasps, and she shakes her head. "No, no, I can't do that."

"You're not staying here," I point out, jerking my head back toward the penthouse. "I have a place in the city. It's not far from here. You won't be too far from campus, and I can keep an eye on you. Come on."

She resists for another moment. I know she's not exactly a fan of what I'm proposing, but she can see I have a point here. She can't just go back into that place and wait for whoever did that to return and harm her. Finally, she sinks into the car next to me and allows me to start driving.

She doesn't speak as we go, her eyes pinned to the window. I want to reach over and give her thigh a squeeze so badly, but I get the feeling she wouldn't be down with that. She's jumpy, frightened after everything that's happened, and I need to do my best to show her that she has nothing at all to fear—as long as I'm there.

I'm not going to take her back to the Silva mansion, of course. Valentina and Blake would never allow it. I'm going to keep her safe in my own apartment, somewhere I have complete control over everyone who comes and goes. I don't want her to have to fear anything. And there's security on my door, security who won't let just anyone walk in.

"Do you have any idea who might have done this?" I ask her softly after a few minutes of silence.

She shakes her head. "I have no idea," she confesses. "I-I got a note before, the night we first met, but I thought it was just someone messing with me. But now..." She trails off, shaking her head.

I tense. She had a note before this, and she didn't say anything? She's independent, too independent for her own good, really.

"You need to tell me if anything else happens," I warn her. "You understand? I want to hear if anything happens that's out of the ordinary."

"I will," she mumbles as I pull the car to a halt outside my apartment building. She gazes up at it, and a wry smile crosses her lips. "I guess this is going to make it easier for people to believe we're actually together, huh?"

"I wasn't even thinking about that..."

"I know," she replies. "I just... I guess this will put aside any doubts people have about whether or not we're serious about this."

She follows me inside the building, and I notice that her shoulders are pulled up to her ears. I don't think I've ever seen her so freaked out in all the time I've known her. When I think about Isabella, I think about someone who is strong, defiant, even a little cocky. But this? This has taken all of that from her, and there seems to be nothing she can do to pretend otherwise.

We reach my apartment, and she breathes a sigh of relief as soon as we step inside.

"You're going to be safe here," I assure her as I slip an arm around her waist. She glances down at the spot where I'm touching her, and her lips quirk up into a small smile.

"You don't have to keep up the act," she murmurs to me. "There's nobody here to see us."

I stare down at her for a moment. She's right, of course. I have no good reason to be touching her like this. I should be getting her set up in the guest room, giving her somewhere to rest up after the shock of everything that has happened, but I don't want to. I don't want to give her any reason to be apart from me right now. I can still remember the pressure of that kiss, the intensity of it, the heat of her body against mine.

And the way she's looking at me, I know she can remember it, too.

Before I can stop myself, before I can think better of it, I lower my lips to hers and kiss her.

As soon as our mouths meet, all the tension that's been building over the course of this morning seems to shatter. I pull her close to me, parting her lips with my tongue with ease—but it isn't like before, not like the first time I kissed her when I was doing it to test her, to see what she would fight back with. No, this time, I want to comfort her, to pleasure her, to do everything I can to make things right.

I want to make her forget about the stress of everything she's been through so she can just give herself over to me, once and for all.

She moans softly against my lips, and I move her toward the couch so she's sitting at the edge of the seat. Kneeling between her legs, I push my hands into her hair and kiss her hard, making sure that she can tell how badly I want this, how badly I want her.

When I pull back, her eyes are a little teary around the edges, but she moves in for another kiss at once. I grin into the embrace. She wants this. She wants this just the same way I do. No faking, no kidding, no games. Just us, together, in my apartment as she makes out with me like her life depends on it.

I move my lips to her neck, skimming them along her throat. She gasps, and I let my hand stray down to her belly, caressing that spot just above the line of her panties beneath her dress. I need to taste her. My body is craving it after the dream I had this morning. I won't be able to sate myself until I press my mouth against her and lose myself to the sensation of her pussy against my tongue.

Shifting slightly, I grab the hem of her dress and start to slowly roll it upward. She's gazing at me, staring at me like she can hardly believe this is happening, but she makes no move to stop it. I wonder, for a brief moment, if she had the same dream I did, if she felt the same passion bleeding into her mind as I did this morning.

But the time for talking has long past. Right now, all I want is to make her come.

I glide my lips along the inside of her thigh, listening to the way her breath hitches as I inch closer and closer to her pussy. I can see that she's already starting to get wet through her panties, and my cock stirs at the sight of it.

Fuck.

But I'm not focused on my pleasure right now. I'm focused on her, on making her forget everything that's happened and on getting her to give herself over to me, once and for all.

I hook my fingers in her panties and tug them down slightly, exposing the gorgeous pink folds of her pussy for the first time. Topped by a puff of dark hair, she looks perfect. I glance up at her, and she reaches for me, her fingers pushing through my hair, guiding me closer and closer to her. I can smell the sweetness of her musk, so intoxicating that it's hard for me to bear.

But I take my time. I slow myself until my lips are just grazing at the outside of her folds. I listen to the sharp short breath she lets out as she senses me there, her body responding to even the barest touch that I give her. And then, at last, I nuzzle myself in closer and press my face against her pussy for the first time.

She cries out, but I can hardly hear her, the sound muffled as I nestle myself between her thighs. I can't help but let out a long groan of pleasure. Fuck, she just tastes so fucking good. Her musk, her sweetness, that delicious scent is filling my senses, and I slide my hands beneath her ass and pull her closer eagerly.

Her fingertips dig into my hair with more urgency, and her legs part even wider, making it easier for me to lose myself in her. Lapping at her clit, I swirl my tongue around her folds, feeling the silky-soft crevices beneath my lips. My dreams couldn't come close to this, to how good it feels to be doing this to her. I could spend all day losing myself to her like this, but I can tell that she's already starting to get closer and closer to the edge.

"Oh, fuck," she gasps as her hips grind back against my face. I sink my fingers into her thighs, spreading them further, allowing myself full access to her pussy. Drawing her clit between my lips, I apply a soft sucking pressure and listen as her moans grow more and more insistent.

She's close. She's close, and I'm not going to be satisfied till I make her come. I groan against her pussy, my cock throbbing between my legs, my body already responding to her soft little gasps of pleasure. Right now, she could ask me to do anything in the world, and I'm pretty sure I'd be helpless to resist her. If it means making her come, I'll do whatever it takes, whatever she wants.

And finally, I feel it, the moment her pussy contracts beneath my tongue. She rakes her fingers through my hair, a peal of curses escaping her lips as she shudders with pleasure. I don't move my mouth for a long moment, not ready for this to be over, not by a long shot. But finally, she pushes my head away, the intensity of it more than she can take.

"That was..." she begins, but before she can get a word out, I move up to kiss her hard.

I want her to taste herself on my lips, to be reminded of everything I've just done for her and how much I want to do it again. And as my tongue sinks into her mouth once more, I can feel her grinning. This might not be how I expected today to go, but after the dream that woke me up, there was no way I could deny how badly I wanted her.

And now, I have her all to myself, in my home for the foreseeable future. It might not be how I expected our little dalliance to play out, but hey, when things go the way they have, who am I to complain?