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Rape
Incest
Human trafficking
Female auction
Kidnapping
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CHAPTER ONE
Five Years Ago
Messina, Sicily
Marcello — 21
“Oh, I won’t take your pussy cherry. But I will pop that ass of yours, bella. Your future husband will never know his fiancée isn’t a virgin.”
Giada Lombardi shivers as my warm breath skitters over the shell of her ear. Lips trail open-mouthed kisses down her neck to the juncture of her shoulder, where my teeth nip the sensitive flesh. A moan slips from her parted lips as she shudders against the wall pinned between my forearms.
I smirk at her reaction.
Niccolò Lombardi would have my balls if he knew my intentions for his seventeen-year-old eldest daughter, already promised to another man. The highest-ranking capo of my family’s organization—La Cosa Nostra—Lombardi runs his slice of the pie and crew of soldiers with an iron fist.
But he’s no match for mine—Marcello The Hammer Lucchese, third-born son of Vincenzo the Boss.
I live by our family’s motto, Want It. Take it. And by my Taran Tactical Glocks.
A made man since my first kill to mark my thirteenth birthday. Nothing comes between me and what I want. Even as a child, I took whatever the fuck I wanted from others. If they refused, I hammered them. First with the toy car I wanted, then with my fists. They gave willingly or crying.
And Giada Lombardi will give crying my name as I pound my cock in her virgin ass.
My erection punches against the zipper of my bespoke tuxedo trousers. I grind my well-endowed junk against her pussy as my fingers tighten around her throat and one hip. My dick throbs as she gasps for air. Her pink, manicured fingernails claw at mine.
I lick up her throat to her slack mouth. The tip of my tongue rims her glossy lips. She moans while heavy lids lower over bright blue eyes. My tongue dives in. It sweeps the wet warmth to tangle with her tongue as she gives willingly.
Good girl.
Better to give me what I want than for me to take it.
Not that I need to take from women. Oh, no. They drop to their knees or spread their legs for the baby face killer. The contrast of my soulful mink brown eyes and clean-shaven face with my reputation as a ruthless assassin makes their pussies wetter than the Ionian Sea off the coast of Sicily. I could drown a blissful death as I eat their pussies. Whores, socialites, mafia princesses all succumb to my mystique.
And Giada falls the hardest.
Her knees wobble as I kiss her breathless. Soft mewls escape her mouth. Hips gyrate as she meets the grinding of my pelvis. Yeah, she’s ready.
I spin her around to face the wall. I can’t help but to grind my cock against her round ass, driving her hip bones against the silk wallpaper. A good foot shorter than my six feet, four inches, I bend my knees to align her ass with my groin. Braced by my muscular thighs, I thrust up, lifting her to the balls of her feet in the high heels.
My hands place her palms against the wall as I press my front to her back. She moans and pushes her ass against me. Warm breath comes out in pants while her eyes squeeze shut. I can hear the thoughts as they race through her mind.
So good.
My father will kill me!
Oh, God, Marcello!
