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A Bride For The Mafia King Get Me Married
CallahanI consult my watch, adjust my cuff link.She has four minutes.It's cooler today than it's been, a storm slowly rolling in. I watch the clouds as I think about the afternoon. My uncle is pissed I wouldn't tell him where the wedding would take place.I don't want him there for a stupid reason. I don't want him to see my mother's ring on Portia's finger.Lenore must have mentioned that Father Michael would be performing the ceremony. He thought that was dramatic and unnecessary.I told him I needed it to be done right. In a church with a priest. No city hall. I told him I didn't want the cartel thinking it's not a real marriage. Not that I really think they would. We'd be legally married in a ceremony at civil hall too.The men have secured the chapel, sir," Dante says to me.I nod and the roof door opens. "Still not sure why a justice of the peace wouldn't have done it," Antonio notes.I don't comment. He doesn't like Portia simply because she is an Esmeralda. I understand.N
A Bride For The Mafia King Dressed In Black
PortiaCallahan marches me down the aisle much the same way as he marched me upstairs last night.The priest clears his throat, his smile vanishing when he sees the dress, sees Callahan's hand around my arm.The chapel is simple, the pews unadorned, the floors stone, some broken. If there are graves beneath them, they're so old their names and dates have been worn away by time. The altar though, is something to see. Arched ceilings painted turquoise, like the ocean. I bet during the day when sunlight shines through the stained-glass window, it's spectacular. The altar itself is as simply made as the pews but the gold chalice and the other paraphernalia are as beautiful as in any church. I wonder if they lock the gold away at night. I would.But then again, I don't trust anyone."Begin," Callahan commands, shifting his grip from my arm to my hand, weaving his fingers with mine. Not quite how lovers would hold hands but, holding on to me to let me know he has me. That I'm already his.
A Bride For The Mafia King Make Me
CallahanI need to make one stop before goingto my wife.Heathcliff Esmeralda has just been discharged from the hospital. When I arrive at his home, he seems surprised. I don't think he realized knew where he lived but he's quick to check his expression and invite me into the plain, uncared for house.“You rent it furnished?" I ask although I already know.“Easier," he says. "Whiskey?" he seems chastened. At least a little. His arm is in a sling, but it's not broken. He's got a soft bandage around it."How is it?" I gesture to it.“Hurts when I move anything. But I have good meds."He's not taking them though. I can tell from how tightly his face is set.I take the whiskey he offers and drink a sip only because he drinks from his first and it was poured from the same bottle."So. Fernando was in Mexico all along?" he asks.I nod."Didn't your uncle or someone in your organization have intelligence on him?"“I'm not here to discuss my uncle or our organization, or even Fernando for th
A Bride For The Mafia King No Virgin
CallahanI lean over her, pushing her torso down. Keeping her wrists at her lower back, I straighten and use my knee to widen her stance.She goes still as I take her in, her beautiful ass open to me. My dick is a fucking steel rod.When I touch her hip, she jumps like she wasn't expecting it. She's up on tiptoe, lean calf and hamstring muscles tensing.“Stay," I tell her. I let go of her wrists. She remarkably does as she's told.Hands on her cheeks, I splay her open, look at her. At her tiny asshole, the open lips of her pussy.She tries to clench her cheeks, but I keep her open.“You're so fucking beautiful like this. Your pussy open and wet for me. Your asshole so tempting." I touch my thumb to her asshole and she clenches.“Callahan — ”But her breath catches as I crouch down and extend the tip of my tongue to her clit and lick all the way up through her wet folds to her other hole, laying the flat of my tongue on her as I repeat downward then back again, tasting her, wanting her
A Bride For The Mafia King Cocked Gun
PortiaI hear the lock turn a moment after he's gone.My heart is racing and I'm shivering. He was so angry. But I never lied to him. There just wasn't any way I could tell him.Whore.The word rings like an accusation. It's not the first time I've been called one but this time, hearing it from him, it hurts.He accused me of fucking Fernando Mancini. If I had, it wouldn't have been consensual. Doesn't he know that? I'm not a whore.And I don't know why I'm sitting here crying. I should be pissed. Offended.Or relieved. He won't touch me again. It's what I wanted, isn't it?We're enemies now, truly. It's what I told him I wanted.I shiver with cold as the rain outside beats down on the house. I pull the blanket up around my shoulders and the wedding band drops to the tiled floor. It bounces once before coming to rest.I feel sad. So fucking sad. I feel like I did at the house after he told me about his enemies and asked me to be his friend.Maybe he's right. Maybe I am just like my br
A Bride For The Mafia King Mermaid Tail
PortiaIt's so quiet, it's almost eerie. I look up at the ceiling, watching steam rise from my bath. I hear a drop of water fall into the tub. That's it. That's the only sound. And it feels somehow wrong.The bedroom door opens. I turn my head, but from this angle I can't see who it is. It's quiet again. Like whoever opened the door just walked away."Callahan?" I ask quietly, sitting up, drawing my knees toward my chest.He doesn't answer. No one does, but if I listen closely, I hear footsteps in the living room, then whispers. Men's whispers. Soldiers?No.Not soldiers.Ice coats my spine when I hear his voice. He shouldn't be here. Callahan wouldn't allow him to be here.Would he? He wouldn't do that to me, would he?I look around for a robe, a towel. Something to cover myself, but his footsteps become more pronounced.He's not trying to be quiet. The opposite.He's in the bedroom so I remain in the tub, my arms hugging my knees to my chest.And then he's leaning against the doorwa
A Bride For The Mafia King She's Gone
CallahanIt's a dream. I know it. There's a texture to it. An echo in the sound. I know it and it still doesn't make a difference.This fucking nightmare, this chapter of my life, will always own me.Except that this time, something's different. But I can't figure out what it is.The marble is cold beneath me as I watch the blood circle widen.Deep red on pristine white.They're already here. My brothers. My father. I can hear them, but I can't open my eyes to see.I hear her too. My mother.I drag my eyelids open. The first thing I see is my own reflection in the mirror of blood. My face white as the marble should be. I should have died. Why didn't I die?They're on their knees. Michael's already dead. His eyes are open but he's already dead.That echo comes again and then I hear it. I hear him tear her dress.See her pushed to her knees in my periphery. See her hands slip in Michael's blood.She's wearing a red dress tonight. She wasn't wearing red that night. But maybe that's blood
A Bride For The Mafia King Cry For Help
PortiaWe drive for hours. Or at least it feels like hours. All I hear in the trunk of this old, beat up sedan is rain. All I feel is every bump, every tiny stone, every pothole on the road.My wrists are bound behind my back. My shoulders and arms ache and the zip ties they bound me with cut into the skin of my wrists. I've managed to turn myself, so my feet touch one of the rear lights. I'm not sure what I hope to accomplish though. Kicking out the light? And then what?After a sharp, bumpy turn and a long road of what must be gravel, the car slows to a stop. My heartbeat picks up. I hadn't realized it had calmed at all during the drive. I hear men outside, smell cigarette smoke.They're speaking Spanish.That's the one thing of importance to note. Cartel soldiers? Makes sense. Most important question is what am I to them? Their enemy's wife or the cartel's princess?I'm going to guess the former since I'm riding naked in the trunk.Someone pops the trunk and although dawn has hardl
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