Dark Throne: A Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Russo Royals) Page 2

  He roves those blue eyes over my body like he’s undressing me beneath my cloak. Heat rises in my cheeks. A lock of his tawny hair falls in front of his face. He tilts his chiseled chin ever so slightly to the side, bringing his eyes up to meet mine.

  “What’s Goldilocks doing out of her castle without her guards?” He reaches out, brushing his finger down my cheek. “Doesn’t her daddy know there are big hungry bears out here who would love to eat her?”

  The heat in my cheeks turns to flames as I pull away from his touch. “My father knows the bears out here are stupid and easy to outwit.”

  I go to step past him.

  He moves before me, crossing his broad chest with his arms and blocking my path. “If I had to guess, I’d say your daddy doesn’t know you’re here. I’d also say, he’d be pretty angry to find out you’re out here all alone. I think…” he takes step toward me, looming over me, “you’d be in a lot of trouble with daddy if he found out.”

  Tonight is my birthday ball, a party I’ve been looking forward to all year. Vincent is a strict disciplinarian; he wouldn’t think twice to cancel it if he knew I’d snuck out.

  I can’t let that happen.

  I look up at Luca through my dark lashes, attempting to pile on the charm. His eyes are so cold, I don’t know if I even have a chance at melting that ice. I give a coy smile. “Well, he doesn’t need to know, now does he?”

  He moves closer. I force myself to stand my ground and not shrink under his stature. He slips a hand around the back of my neck, his touch making my skin tingle. He pulls my ear to his mouth, his breath tickling my skin. “I guess we could make a deal.”

  Having him so close to me, touching me like this, my heart races. I hold my tone as even as I can, though my heart threatens to beat of my chest. “What deal?”

  He pulls back from my ear, finding my gaze. His hand stays wrapped around my neck. His eyes burn into mine. “One kiss. One kiss will seal my lips and I’ll not tell your daddy what I saw here today.”

  A…kiss?

  A tremble runs through me. A kiss? With Luca? I despise him.

  I loathe him.

  And he hates me. Why on Earth would he want to…kiss me?

  And yet…

  The fate of my birthday ball hangs in the air.

  He pulls away, sliding his hand over my neck as he does, leaving a tingling trail behind on my skin. He cocks his head to the side, studying my further flushing face. “What do you say, Goldie?”

  Anger wells in my chest. Stupid nickname. Why did I have to run into Luca of all people?

  I think of my light green silk dress with full skirts hanging on the closet door of my bedroom, waiting for tonight. The cake Sophia is baking me. The caterers readying the meal right this moment.

  I hate myself for it, but fine. One kiss with my arch nemesis to secure my party.

  I hiss my answer between clenched teeth. “One kiss. Though I don’t know why you’d want to kiss me anyway.”

  He gives a sneer. “Isn’t it obvious? I like making you squirm. Always have.”

  My eyes focus on his mouth. His lips are full, his teeth white and straight, his tongue a wicked tool as he runs the tip of it over his lips.

  My body betrays me—a traitor—a melty feeling overtaking my core. I’m suddenly wondering what it will feel like to kiss him.

  I find out soon enough.

  He takes my face in his hands, rough and possessive, his skin cool against my flushed face. He holds my gaze as he moves closer, the glint of a predator in his blue eyes. He presses his lips against mine, hard and punishing. His tongue pushes past my lips, swiping at me, tasting me.

  I stand there, arms at my sides, as he abuses me.

  And it feels…so…good.

  Why does it have to feel good?

  2

  Esme

  His kiss is terror and harshness, yet in it I feel exhilaration, a haunting desire building within me.

  It ends…too soon. Slowly, he releases me, his hands falling from my face.

  I stand, dumbstruck by his kiss.

  “See you, Goldie.” He gives me a devilish wink. He turns and leaves, sauntering away with the swagger only a man as good looking as him can pull off.

  I murmur to his back. “See you. Asshole.”

  My hands are shaking as I start toward the bakery. As I walk, my anger grows.

  How dare he do that to me?

  Force me to kiss him so he wouldn’t snitch on me for sneaking out? Isn’t there some code with mafia men about keeping secrets, not ratting people out? We are rival families, the Russos and the Romanos, but still.

  What. An. Ass.

  I have to pay him back. There has to be something I can do to him in retaliation.

  My mind wanders, looking for a solution.

  With every step I become more obsessed with the idea. Could I put sugar in the gas tank of his precious green Alpha Romeo? Slip blue hair dye into his shampoo bottle?

  I find myself wanting revenge more than a croissant. The idea of getting him back gives me more of a buzz than the caffeine I was looking forward to from the foamy cappuccino I’ve been dreaming of.

  Change of plans.

  Leaving Main Street, I walk along the back alley that leads to the Romano estate. I’ll scout out the property, see if there’s somewhere I even can get in. Then, I’ll make my plan.

  When it comes into view, I’m reminded of how lovely it is—a beautiful place for a family with ugly souls. The sprawling stone compound has views of the sea as well as the mountains. Lush gardens dot the property, as well as several orchards. Built as a thirteenth century convent, its current use couldn’t be further from its original.

  It’s full of Romano thugs.

  Luca, the worst of them all with his bossy ways and his sharp tongue…I think of how it caressed mine and my mind suddenly goes cloudy.

  “Snap out of it, Esme. It’s time for revenge.” I slip up the hill, pressing my body against the sand colored walls. They have fewer guards than us, and why wouldn’t they? Their family is nowhere near as powerful as ours.

  At least not in wealth.

  But they are the oldest family name in the village, the original settlers of our seaside town were Romanos. The people have not forgotten, and many are loyal to John Romano and his sons. They own a massive stretch of fertile land, farms and fields, a vineyard and orchards.

  Luca loves to work the land, his shirt off, the sun shining on his bare back. And sometimes when I’m walking by, I love to stare.

  Damn him.

  I’m not sure what I’m going to do to repay him yet; my first step is just getting onto the property. I find an arched doorway further down the wall. The gate is small and creaks as I tug on the round, metal handle. It’s unlocked. I inch it open, taking in the stone, center courtyard that it leads to. An olive tree grows from the center of the court, its leaves a soft green. Manicured gardens dot the corners, a few rose bushes in bloom, their faint fragrance tickling my nose.

  It’s nothing like the dark and dreary scorched earth graveyard I pictured it would be.

  Its beautiful. Clean. Friendly.

  I scan, looking for what, I’m not sure. I’ve not yet fully formulated my plan. There by the wall…could that be?

  Perfect.

  My target is in sight. Luca lies on a bench, lounging in the sun, an apple in one hand, an open book in the other. His face is relaxed, a half-smile curling on his lips as he reads.

  He looks almost…human.

  He takes another bite of the apple, running his tongue along his lips, giving me a shameful need to press my thighs together.

  What’s he reading?

  I peer further forward, trying to make out the gold lettering on the red leather spine. Romeo and Juliet.

  There’s no way a brute like him is reading a romance. My eyes must be deceiving me. I lean in further and—oh shit!—fall through the gate and onto the ground. My hands and knees press into the stones.

 
Horror seizes me as I realize the danger I’ve put myself in. Slowly, I look up, to meet his furious gaze.

  “Goldie? What the hell are you doing here?” Fury radiates from him. “Spying for your daddy?”

  “No, not spying!” I stand, brushing my hands off. “I uh...I guess I got turned around. I’ll just be going now.”

  “I don’t think so.” He rises from his seat, crossing the ground to me. “Not until you tell me what you’re doing on Romano property.”

  Ack. It’s so embarrassing to admit my childish plan. A plan that I didn’t even have, not really. Shame fills me as I murmur my confession. “I—I was going to pull a prank on you.”

  His brow furrows. “A prank?”

  “Yes, it was stupid and —”

  “Damn right, it was stupid. Do you know how lucky you are that it was me who found you and not my brothers?” He runs a hand through his hair, agitated, looking around the courtyard, his muscles tensing. “I don’t even want to think what they would do to you.”

  Is that…concern in his voice? And what would they do to me? A tremor runs down my spine. “Your brothers are worse than you?”

  He grabs my arm, pulling me toward him. His eyes lock on mine, blazing with warning. “Don’t come here again. Do you understand me?”

  He’s scaring me, but I won’t let him show it. I won’t let him win. Not again. I tilt my chin in defiance. “You, Luca Romano, do not tell me what to do. I’m a Russo. Do you understand me?”

  Stormy clouds gather in his blue irises. He moves closer, his face only a bit away from mine. “Let me tell you something, little girl, Russo or not, you’ll do what I say.”

  My hands shake, but I steady my tone. “You aren’t the boss of me.”

  “Tell your ass that.” He tugs me over to the short wall that lines in the inner garden. He sits down on the wall. His hand tight around my arm, he drags me over his lap.

  “Hey! Wait! What are you doing! Let me go!” I kick my legs, trying to fight him off.

  He wraps one of his long, strong legs around mine, locking me into place. “I’m spanking some sense into you.”

  Spanking! This. Can. Not. Happen. A spanking is twice—scratch that—a hundred times more humiliating than the kiss. “My father will kill you when he hears about this!” My hands fly back, trying to push him away, but now he has me fully dragged over his lap, my belly pressing into his hard thighs.

  “I have a feeling your daddy won’t hear about this, because you won’t want to tell him what you were doing.”

  Ugh—he’s right.

  He grabs my wrists pinning them to my back. “I’m only doing what Vincent should have done years ago. Maybe then you wouldn’t be putting your life at risk, snooping around where you don’t belong.”

  “Don’t you dare! I’ll scream, I’ll—”

  “No one is here in this courtyard but you and me. Everyone is down at the shore right now, helping load a shipment, my guards included, which is the only way you happened to get by that gate in the first place.”

  “Let me go, Luca.” I struggle to free myself from his hold.

  “Scream your little heart out, Goldie. No one will hear you. In fact, I’ll make you scream myself.” He brings his hand down hard and fast, smacking it against my ass.

  I howl in pain and anger. “You ass!”

  “So feisty for a girl who’s been overpowered.” His hands move to the hem of my skirt. “Let’s pull this skirt up and see how feisty you can get.”

  No, oh my God, no. “Don’t! Luca, I swear, I’ll go home and never come back.” I can’t bear the humiliation of Luca Romano seeing my panties. My God, which ones am I even wearing? Inwardly I groan as I remember grabbing the babyish little heart covered ones from my drawer. Why couldn’t I have gone with something sexy, like black, and why the fuck do I even care…

  He flips my skirt up, cool air rushing over my skin. He gives a low moan and I feel the stirring of his cock beneath my belly. “Heart panties. You are a naughty little girl, aren’t you?” He smooths his hand over my panty-covered ass.

  His words, his hand, make a moan rise from my own chest.

  How is this happening to me? And how is the gusset of my panties so wet, my pussy aching to be touched. Will he be able to see that little wet patch, will he catch the scent of my arousal?

  My thoughts disappear as his hand comes down again and again. Right cheek, then left cheek, making the stinging warmth spread over my goose bumped flesh.

  My voice is thick, losing protest with every word. “Let me go, Luca.”

  “I can’t. Not until I teach you a lesson. Then, I’ll send you home with a sore ass. I’ll be happy just knowing you’re wearing my handprint under your dress tonight during your birthday ball.”

  “Wait—how did you know it’s my birthday?” He’d better not have some plan to ruin it, Romanos are not invited.

  “Doesn’t everyone?” He brings his hand down in another sharp smack, making me suck air between my teeth. “You are, after all,” he punctuates each of his next words with a hearty spank, alternating from cheek to cheek, “the princess of the Russos.”

  “I’m no princess! I work as hard as anyone.” My hips wriggle and I moan. The stinging increases and with it, a heavy aching in my core. I’m so wet and as I wriggle, my slick pussy moves against him in my panties, creating delicious friction.

  “Bad girl—trying to get away. Not taking your punishment. These little heart panties will have to come down.”

  My blood goes icy in my veins, his words making me freeze. Absolutely not—Luca cannot see my bare ass.

  I’ll beg if I have to. “No! Please don’t, Luca. There’s barely any fabric there, it won’t make a difference, I’ll still feel your…” it’s so hard to say the word, but I force it from my mouth, “spanking.”

  He leans down, his chest wrapping around my back, his lips brushing against my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “It’s not your pain I’m after. It’s your humiliation.”

  His cruel words make me gasp as he grabs the waistband of my panties, ripping them down. Just knowing he can see my naked skin makes shame rise in my chest. To be pinned here, helpless over his lap, bared and spanked like a naughty little girl.

  It’s too much.

  The lines of pain and pleasure, humiliation and desire, they blur until it’s impossible to know what I’m feeling. Is that his…erection I feel hardening under my belly? Between my thighs, moisture pools.

  He brings his hand down on my bare skin. It stings more without the protection of my thin panties. It comes down, again and again, his palm making contact with my bare flesh. Each time, the stinging spreads.

  Each time, my pussy aches more, my clit throbs, my breasts are heavy.

  I want him.

  And I want to kill him.

  “You’re such a bad girl. I’ll bet getting your ass spanked makes you all wet, doesn’t it?” His hand smooths my curves. His fingers creep down my thigh. “Should I check and see how wet you are for me?”

  “No! Don’t you dare touch me.” Touch me, touch me, slide your thick fingers inside me and end this torture. “Don’t you dare.”

  Again, my body betrays me, my hips wriggling, begging for his touches, some kind of friction, relief.

  I get none.

  His hand hovers over my bottom, his fingers pausing just at the apex between my thighs, and stops. Hooking his fingers under the waistband of my panties he pulls them up, snapping them into place.

  Disappointment floods me as he smooths my skirt over my bottom, giving my ass a pat.

  He helps me up and I can’t meet his eyes. “Come, I’ll walk you to the road. We wouldn’t want you to suffer from any bear attacks.”

  I refuse to walk beside him, following him to the road, pulling my hood up over my head to hide my face. I can’t believe he spanked me. And I can’t believe I was one touch away from begging him to fuck me with his fingers.

  The shame rushes upward, fresh and raw, heating my
face. I pull my hood up further.

  When he reaches the road, he turns to wait for me. The set of his jaw is tight, his flashing blue eyes are harsh and unkind as he tugs my hood back down. “Don’t ever let me catch you on our property again. Next time, I won’t let you off so easy.”

  I want to slap his face, to claw his eyes from his head. To my dismay I find my gaze lowering, my lips mumbling my humiliating response. “Yes, sir.”

  “Happy Birthday.” He brushes past me.

  Leaving me standing alone with a stinging ass, a dull ache throbbing between my thighs.

  I hate him.

  I hate myself for wanting him.

  3

  Esme

  The dress is a perfect fit. I gaze in the mirror, admiring the light green color of the fabric, how it brightens my complexion. Was it worth kissing that brute to get to wear this dress, to have this party tonight? I give a little twirl. The silk feels cool, slipping against my skin as I move.

  Hell yes it was.

  I’m caught somewhere between hatred and lust. Thinking of him makes the color in my already pink cheeks deepen. Any thoughts of him and I’m a suddenly a feverish wreck.

  Tonight, is supposed to be carefree.

  Free of care.

  I push him away from my mind.

  My friend Cecily is a tiny bundle of nerves, flitting about my room like a pixie. She’s always like this—a little stick of dynamite, tiny with insane amount of energy hidden inside—but with the party only minutes away, she’s on another level.

  We’ve been friends forever. She was a year above me in school but we met when we shared a jump rope on the playground. I envied her pretty brown curls, she wanted my blonde braids. We bonded over shared sweets and sidewalk chalk, writing our names on the blacktop in swirling pastel letters.

  As the daughter of Vincent’s older brother, Dimitri, I guess she’s technically my cousin, now. Dimitri, fifteen years Vincent’s senior, moved to Rome when Vincent was young. After Vincent moved to the village, amassing his wealth and power, he longed to be surrounded by Russo blood.