The sterling-silver metal egg rests in the palm of my hand, the coolness pleasant. I gaze into the mirror, and he stands behind me, his grinning face amused by my horror.

“You want me—you seriously want me to put this thing…”

“In your pussy, yes.”

He’s lost his goddamn mind.

Tony wraps an arm around my bare midriff, planting a kiss on my neck that makes my core heat up. “It’s remote controlled and there are various settings.”

His other arm snakes around my waist with the tiny remote. There’s a clicking noise and then the egg in my hand vibrates violently. His thumb rolls over the wheel and the shaking increases in intensity.

“Shit.”

It nearly tumbles out of my palm, and he turns it off. A strange thrill runs through my body at the thought of wearing this thing to our engagement party, where the boss of the Cravotta family will be.

Then I feel slightly ill. I stare into his happy face, unable to believe what I’m hearing.

“You’re insane. I can’t fucking do this.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Johnny will be there, for fuck’s sake! You really want me to do this in front of your boss?”

His wolfish grin sends chills down my spine, and then he spreads his hands over my naked stomach and I shudder as heat burns my skin.

“Especially him, yes.”

I gape at him through the mirror. Why the fuck would he want to disrespect his boss like that? “Why?”

“Because it turns me on, baby. I like the idea of you getting wet and frustrated in front of all these guys, who’ll have no idea what’s going on.”

My skin prickles with desire as he runs his hands over me, his coarse cheek slightly brushing mine as his words hiss over my ear, making my heart pound.

I don’t know how I feel about it—I’m embarrassed, that’s for sure, and a little bewildered.

Who knew he’d be such a kinky freak?

“Where the hell is this coming from?”

Strong hands curl around my shoulders and turn me around so that I’m facing him. A flush fills my cheeks and chest as he gives me that gorgeous, panty-melting smile. He takes the egg from my hands and his lips bump against mine. My body weakens as his tongue strokes my lips, and I open my mouth for him. At the same time, I feel his callused fingers reaching down between my legs. I widen my stance and he rubs the vibrator over my clit.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about you, and all the things I could get you to do for me—”

“Basically, you’re an asshole.”

He grins at me. “Don’t pretend you don’t fucking love it.”

A small moan escapes my lips when he plants another hot kiss over my mouth.

“Listen, baby. I want you. I want you in ways that you’re not always going to love, but you’ll do them anyway—for me.”

It’s hard to think when his fingers slip between my swollen lips, curling upward as the vibrator hums over my clit.

“I want you begging me to fuck you by the end of the night.”

A shudder runs through my body as he pushes the egg inside me. It slides in with little resistance as his tongue sweeps into my mouth. He pulls back, smirking.

I’m dimly aware that I should be putting up more of a fight. He’s hot and all, but am I willing to humiliate myself like this for him? At the same time, I feel dirty for the excitement that shoots into my chest.

It’s so fucking wrong.

“Should we test it?”

Without waiting for a response, he clicks a button and the cool metal suddenly vibrates inside me. The vibrating egg sends electrical spasms into my clit. Pleasure spikes into my core, and it gradually throbs with a growing ache.

Holy shit.

I breathe deeply as he laughs and wrap my arms around his back. “Tony—shit—this is too much!”

“It’s on the lowest setting, sweetheart. Is that too much for you?”

He thumbs the wheel and the vibrator increases speed like a hummingbird’s wings. It’s as though his tongue is sliding up and down my clit, and I think about the long, hard cock between his legs, and how maddening it is that it’s not inside me. Right. Fucking. Now.

“Tony!”

He chuckles and turns the vibrator off, but my legs still tremble as though weakened by it. I kiss his chest and grab a mouthful of his irresistible muscle and bite down slightly. He laughs and kisses my head.

“Fuck me.”

“I control your body, even when I’m not by your side…even when we’re in public.”

My face burns as he reaches down and cups my wetness, sliding a hard finger over my clit. Then he pulls back and spanks my ass and a ripple of anger runs through me.

“Now get ready.”

A smirk flashes at me through the mirror before he stalks out of the bathroom, leaving me there with a throbbing ache pulsing between my legs.

This is so fucking crazy.

Really, it is. I’m getting married to a man a barely know, a bad boy who had a crisis of conscience over deceiving his mother. Oh, and he’s into humiliating me in front of his buddies because that apparently gets him off.

The eyeliner trembles in my hand as I imagine Rafael bursting into the restaurant with a gun. He must know by now, and it kills me that I don’t have access to his texts anymore. He’s probably murderous with rage and Tony will be at the top of his list when he finds out another guy “knocked me up.”

Tony tells me not to worry about it, but how can I do that? My sister has my new phone number, and her scathing texts hint that she’s found out about it, too.

Vince stopped by. He’s looking for Rafael. He told me that you’re getting engaged to some French guy in Montreal and that you’re pregnant??? What the hell is going on? BTW, Thanks a lot for the invitation to your engagement party.

Sighing, I clench my fingers around the phone. I can’t deal with my pissed-off family right now. No, I didn’t tell her anything about the engagement, or my so-called predicament. I know that it’s rude. We’re Italian. Refusing to invite your family to your engagement party might as well be a capital crime.

I just don’t want any of them there. It’s going to be bad enough as it is, surrounded by strangers with a fucking vibrator shoved inside me.

Jesus.

How did I get from running from my ex to shoving a vibrator up my pussy for a man I hardly know?

A ripple of excitement runs through my body at the idea of a hot pulse of pleasure running between my legs the whole time I’m supposed to be meeting Cravotta family associates. I must have done hundreds of these events with my dad, and he would’ve busted a nut if I tried anything like this in front of his people. I choke out laughter, seizing the sink for support as I think about doing this in front of these big, scary Mafiosi. It makes me wonder why Tony would do this. Why risk his reputation just to get off?

I catch a glimpse of him shrugging on his dress shirt over his tattooed chest, a slight frown on his face. Before we met his mother, I would have thought that he was just another dead-eyed, empty shell. Beautiful to look at, but hollow inside. It’s a struggle to get a reaction from him. I tell him about my psychotic ex, and he shrugs as though it’s hardly worth thinking about. He’s unflappable.

Tony hangs in the doorway, his hair slicked back, his face freshly shaven and still moist. He looks appetizing in his black suit, the red shirt and tie making him look like a modern manifestation of the devil. His narrowed eyes radiate heat as they drop down my neck and over my curves.

He slips a casual hand into his jacket pocket and suddenly a jolt rips through my pussy. A smile spreads over his handsome face.

“Perfect.”

* * *

One of the few advantages of being a woman is being able to be turned-on without anybody ever realizing it. There were so many times that I sat in high school class and fantasized about the algebra teacher bending me over his desk and fucking me hard, or sometimes I’d be trapped in an elevator with a hottie and I’d bask in his presence, imagining his mouth over mine. I’d stew in silence and feel my panties growing wet, and no one would know.

It was safe to fantasize.

It was even fun.

Tony’s taken that away. He ripped the security blanket from my shoulders when he shoved that vibrator up my pussy, which is all I can think about even as I shake hands with Tony’s associates with my slightly damp one.

Fucking asshole.

It hums inside me as I walk around Le Zinc, the restaurant Tony brought me to celebrate our engagement. He keeps a firm hand around my waist as we float from person to person.

It’s a beautiful restaurant, and the live jazz band gives the place a moody, intimate feeling. I expect to see people making out—I expect to see them fucking in that darkened corner by the bathrooms—

Jesus. I’m horny as hell.

“I was wondering: Is it hard being close to me?” He slides his arm around my waist with deliberate slowness. “I can just imagine how wet your panties must be right now.”

I look up and down his body, my eyes lingering right below his belt. Naked—I want him naked. I want my legs wrapped around him and that fucking irritating smile. He’s just so goddamn delectable in that suit, and the vibrator keeps reminding me just how much I need him.

There’s no way to get off, and people are everywhere. Tony’s family and friends. People I’ve never met before. I should be getting to know people. Instead, I’m obsessed with getting to know the intimate details of Tony’s cock.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Your pussy must be aching. Tell me, does every wave through your pussy remind you of how nice my cock feels inside you?” Tony’s voice rumbles deliciously in my ear and I turn into his arms, my hands and face scorching hot. His quiet laughter sends a ripple of rage through me.

Fucking asshole.

“Turn it the fuck off.”

The violent buzzing between my legs is maddening. I’m seconds away from ripping off his clothes, and he gives me a brief, chaste kiss that only adds fuel to the blazing fire.

“Not a chance. Seeing you all worked up like this is way too fun.” He takes my arms, slides his hands up, and he might as well be running them up my legs. He turns his head. “Hey, Johnny.”

Johnny? Oh fuck.

The slick Montreal boss suddenly materializes out of thin air to give Tony a swift hug and a kiss on both cheeks. A sick sensation swoops around my stomach as Tony casually slips a hand in his jacket and the vibrations magnify a hundredfold.

“Congratulations, Tony, petit criss.”

Oh God. I’m next.

I don’t even care about the fact that the last time I saw this man, he threw me out of his restaurant and denied me help. He turns to me, beaming as Tony grins behind him, indifferent to the fact that I’m seconds away from coming.

The boss extends a hand as my stomach tenses so hard that it’s impossible to inhale.

Please don’t come. Please don’t.

My legs tighten as I try to still the fucking vibrator sending pleasure throughout my body, but it’s cruel. It’s like a knife into my flesh. I can’t stop it. It can’t help but build up, and up, and up.

I let out a gasp and wrap my arms around Johnny as my pussy clenches hard over the device. Tony bites his fist as he watches me come with his boss’s arms wrapped around me.

“Sorry,” I gasp. “I’m just—a bit—overwhelmed.”

Johnny’s stunned face lightens somewhat. He’s not the kind of guy you touch without permission. My body trembles with the explosion, the aftershocks still singeing my nerves. Pleasure and relief flood my limbs, but the device hums against my clit, ramping the desire up again. I bite my lip hard. Tony lowers the speed, and I’m able to breathe.

“You all right, hon? You look a little—red.”

Oh really? Is my face red? Hmm, I guess it has to do with the fucking VIBRATOR up my twat right now.

Just the thought of what I must look makes me shoot daggers at Tony.

Tony lets out a laugh that quickly becomes a cough. “Yeah, uh—she’s worried about her ex showing up, that’s all.”

My ex? Oh yeah. Him.

Funny how a little toy can make you forget about violent exes.

My heart jumps when Johnny frowns at us.

“Yeah, well. I need to talk to you about that. He might show up.”

“What?”

My hand seizes Tony’s arm as dizzying shocks pound through my heart.

“You never gave me the paternity test, so now the asshole is claiming that the baby is his.”

No.

The vibrator shuts off and Tony’s strong, protective arm curls around my waist. I feel him bristling.

“It’s Tony’s. It’s not his!”

Johnny turns his head with a humorless smile. “Can you prove that?”

No, I can’t, because there is no baby.

The bottom drops out of my stomach.

“John, I looked it up and you can’t do a test like that until seven or eight months.”

“We went to the doctor. He said I was a couple weeks pregnant. It fits. We only just met—”

“It could easily be Rafael’s, sweetheart. Frankly, the man has a right to know if the child is his, and he has a right to be in that child’s life—”

“I don’t want him in my baby’s life!” My voice rises to a shout and Tony squeezes my hip in warning.

Johnny’s hardened face stares me down. “He has a right if he’s the father.”

Tony’s jaw makes a tic as he looks back at Johnny, fuming. “John, I don’t want that asshole at my engagement party. If he’s showing up, we’re leaving.”

Disappointment steams off Johnny’s face. I can tell that he doesn’t approve, but he can’t force us to accept a fucking audience from my ex at my own party.

“Fine. I’ll let them know to bar him from the restaurant.” His eyes slide to mine. “Sooner or later, you’re going to have to face him.”

He walks off, leaving me trembling in Tony’s arms. The horror of it all buries me, until breathing feels painful. I never anticipated all this shit, but of course we should have. We were so stupid.

“Tony.”

Suddenly his hand is viselike around my arm. “Elena, get behind me.”

“There you are, you fucking cunt!”

A vicious voice fills my veins with toxin, and Tony throws an arm in front of me, shoving me back as Rafael lunges forward. Looking furious, Johnny seizes the back of his collar and yanks him.

“I fucking told you to be civil,” he hisses into his ear before giving him a sharp slap across the face.

Rafael’s head rips to the side. His eyes lift to John, and I’m surprised at the threat simmering inside them. “She’s carrying my kid, John.”

“That remains to be seen.”

“If there fucking even is a kid at all,” he snarls.

I open my mouth in fury, but Tony gets there first.

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself?”

A cruel grin stretches Rafael’s mouth as he appraises Tony, who is a much larger man. Unfortunately Tony doesn’t seem to intimidate Rafael.

“So you’re the asshole fucking my girl?”

Tony smiles. “She’s not your girl.”

“Oh, I beg to differ.”

“You lost the right to call her that the moment you laid a hand on her.”

His face contorts with rage. “She’s mine and everything that belongs to her, belongs to me!”

“You whine like a little bitch,” Tony snaps, finally releasing some of his anger. “She doesn’t want you. She wants me.”

“Get over here!” he screams at me.

“If I see you anywhere near my fiancée, I’ll cut your fucking balls off and shove them up your ass.”

For a moment Rafael just stands there, quietly burning as the things he thought he had slipped from his grasp without him even realizing. I watch him suffer with a cruel sort of satisfaction pounding against my ribs. He won’t win. Not this time. First he lost me. Now his pride is gone, too.

“You’re a dead man.”

“All right, that’s enough,” Johnny shouts. He motions with his head, and two men grab Rafael’s arms, dragging him out of the restaurant.

Rafael snaps the moment they touch his arms. His voice raises to the ceiling as he screams at the top of his lungs. People glance around in their seats. Flecks of spittle fly from his mouth.

“YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD! I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU BETTER—”

I disappear from Tony’s side and run through the restaurant, ignoring everyone’s sympathetic looks as I disappear into the bathroom. My chest swells and I check every stall first, confirming that I’m alone. Then I let myself curl into a ball.

Only this once.

My back slides against the wall and I try to cover my mouth to stifle the horribly loud and embarrassing sounds. My insides feel like caving in because I’m so humiliated. Tony’s mother must have seen the whole thing—and all the other wives, too. There’s also the fact that we completely overlooked that Rafael might be crazy enough to claim the baby was his.

I stand up, shaking in anger as I stare into the mirror over the sink, tears blurring my vision. I want to smash that weak, pathetic thing. Who the fuck is she? She isn’t Jack Vittorio’s daughter. She’s just a scared little girl, too weak to handle her own problems.

The door rattles. “Elena?”

He opens the door before I can tell him to leave and steps inside, locking it behind him.

I look at his cool, indifferent face for a while. “What the hell are we doing, Tony?”

The bathroom echoes with his sharp footsteps, which make me flinch. He stops in front of me and my skin prickles as he brushes his fingers over my bare neck.

“What do you mean?”

“We can’t possibly—we’re fucked! There’s no way we can keep up with these lies.”

“Sure we can. We’ll pay off those technicians to fake some tests for us.”

He sounds so sure. So confident.

“Then what happens in a few months when I’m supposed to be showing and I’m not?”

He shrugs and laughs at me, as though I’m making a big deal out of nothing. “So we fucking say you miscarried it. It’s no one’s fucking business. As for Joe Jerk-off, well, he’ll have to back off once we’re married.”

I don’t know.

His lips descend over mine and I seize his neck, leaning into him as his mouth devour me. At the same time, I hear a sound that reminds me of fabric—

BZZZZT.

The vibrator hums to life and my arousal returns with a vengeance as I open my mouth in a gasp. “Tony—this isn’t the time!”

“This is the perfect fucking time. You need to get your mind off things, and I’ll be a lot happier watching you come while you shake Johnny’s hand than watching you cry.”

His voice is sweet. I don’t expect that, and tears thicken my throat as he cradles my cheek in his hand. There’s not a tinge of doubt in his eyes, just reassuring confidence.

“Tony, thank you for what you did. Everything that you said…” My voice croaks and those wonderful gray eyes dent with pain.

“Jesus Christ, Elena, stop crying.”

I try. My lips press together and I fight to keep the pain from bursting out, but of course it does. It’s inevitable.

“It’ll be all right.” He wraps his arms around me and I’m swallowed by his bulk. “Please stop crying. Please.”

“I-I’m not upset.”

I’m just happy that I have you.

The tears subside as I swallow that down. Fuck, I’m already getting way too attached to this guy. Even his smile gives me a high. I’ve never felt anything like him before.

A tentative smirk pulls at his lips when he watches me calm down as the vibrations rip through my body.

“Now get that sexy ass back outside. You need to say hello to my mother.”

For all his banter, he turns off the vibrator the moment I take his hand. We leave the bathroom together and walk back into the crowd of people sipping drinks. The men slap Tony’s back and smile at me.

“Jesus, what a fucking lunatic!” A man with a wide grin laughs at Tony’s stony face.

“Fucking Yanks.”

I flinch at that remark and turn away from the men to sit down alone at the long wooden table set up for us. The table is already laden with Italian appetizers: salumi and cheese, freshly cut country bread, and olives. The men start jabbering away in rapid French, all of it sounding so alien to my ears.

I’m lost here.

A chair scrapes back and I look up to see a pretty girl with dark curls and voluptuous curves sitting across the table. Her round eyes soften when she looks at me.

“Hi, my name is Melanie. I’m Tommy’s girlfriend.”

Oh.

She speaks with a strong New York accent. I take her hand and shake it. “I’m Elena.”

I glance at the tall, lean form hanging around the group of men. Tommy must not be able to understand a word, but he doesn’t look like he gives a shit. I’m trying to gauge how much she saw, and my hands shake underneath the table.

“I guess you saw what happened.”

My face flushes as she nods her curly head.

“Yeah.” Her eyes lower to the table.

A wave of depression suddenly hits me as I think about how I must look to these people. What a mess. I’m just an ex-Mafia princess with a ton of baggage, who got knocked up by a notorious man whore. How ridiculous I must look to her.

Oh who the fuck cares? Look at him. He doesn’t give a fuck.

Tony glances over occasionally to find me, and when he does his smile gives me instant heat, like a hot drop of pleasure down my throat. No one will dare say anything disrespectful to him about me. Insult a made guy’s wife, and you might as well make plans for your funeral. That’s the way this world works.

“It’s a bit embarrassing.”

“He made a fool out of himself, not you.”

The honesty shining from her eyes makes me feel a bit better.

“So you’re from New York, too? What brought you here?”

Her cheeks burn suddenly, and she looks at me almost guiltily. “It’s a long story.”

My guts turn to ice. After all the shit that went down with my father, Tommy had to leave town. Obviously his girlfriend followed him. There’s guilt all over her face, and the way her eyes avoid me tell me that she knows a lot more than I do.

Fuck, I’ve barely thought about it.

“I know Tommy was part of the crew that killed my dad.”

Melanie’s face drains of color. I almost expect to see blood pooling at her feet.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I just want to move on, you know? Make a better life for myself.”

“I’m basically in the same boat.” She smiles painfully at her boyfriend, who sits down next to her. “We’ve been here a few months. It was hard at first, but we’re getting the hang of it. Enough people speak English so it’s not really a problem.”

A rattling sound fills me with horror. The fucking vibrator hums inside me, banging against the wooden chair. It slipped out too far, and everyone can hear the noise. Tommy frowns, looking for the source of the noise, and I tighten my legs, stifling it.

I’ll fucking kill him.

Tony joins me at the table with a knowing grin and slides his arm across my shoulder, kissing the shell of my ear as my core seizes. His fingers gently rake over my skin, playing over the strap of my dress, and I’m consumed with an image of him tearing off my clothes. Every small movement he makes reminds me of sex and the pulsing ache between my legs, which desperately needs something long and hard. Meanwhile I’m pinned to his warmth and there’s not a thing I can do—sex, sex, sex. There’s nothing else in my mind.

I give him a sharp look that he completely ignores.

Fine. Two can play that game, baby.

I let my left hand fall casually to my side and then I slowly inch it under the table. There’s no tablecloth. The whole fucking world can see what I’m doing, but I don’t give a shit. My hand falls over his hard knee and I gently squeeze his thigh, stroking.

His muscles stiffen under my hand, but his speech doesn’t falter.

“What venue were you thinking for the wedding, Tony?”

“I’m not sure. I like that one place we went to for Francois, with the gardens?”

A man down the table nods. “Yeah, that’s Parc Jean-Drapeau.”

My hand inches up his slacks and excitement runs through my veins as my fingers just barely touch the bulge between his legs.

Tony coughs and his hand drops his fork to slip into his jacket.

Holy fuck. It’s pressing right up against my clit and the speed triples. I look down the table, trying to distract myself from the lust pounding through my veins. It’s like a dirty whisper in my ear, constant and nagging.

You want to fuck him. You won’t last through the night if you don’t take his cock, and let him fill you up completely.

My fork clatters against the ceramic plate. All the food is delicious, but I can’t taste it. I can’t taste anything but the slightly salty skin of his cock when I imagine taking him in my mouth. I’m grabbing him in plain view. All the guy next to him would have to do is look at Tony’s lap, and he’d see. My face flushes with heat when Tony grabs my hand and pulls it away from his lap.

“You’re giving me a hard-on,” he hisses.

I smile sweetly. “That’s the point, isn’t it? You fuck with me, and I fuck with you.”

His eyes blaze as my hand returns to his lap, fingers curling around his thickness. I squeeze and feel him twitch. He stares at me for a little too long and then there’s laughter down the table.

I let him go, convinced they saw us, but it’s only Tommy, laughing at someone’s joke. Relief flows over Tony’s face and he gives his head a little shake. Then he leans over.

“Come with me.”

“Right in the middle of dinner?”

“Stand the fuck up before I drag you.”

I recognize that look smoldering in his face, and my insides leap with excitement as he excuses himself. He awkwardly positions his jacket to hide his boner, and I laugh to myself as he gives me a severe look.

My chair scrapes the floor as I get up after him, weaving around the tables as he quickly heads for the back of the restaurant. There’s an enclosed glass room with sheer curtains for private parties, and Tony holds open the door for me.

“Get in.”

I look inside. There’s no one in there, but the table has already been set and there’s a little card sitting there: RESERVED.

“Tony, what—?”

“Get in.”

The sound of his voice makes me hesitate, but it’s not just that. He looks pissed. Darkened eyes narrow at me as I pause near the doorway, and then he places a hand on the small of my back and pushes me inside roughly. The glass door rattles as he follows me and slams the door shut.

The breath catches in my throat as he takes several furious strides toward me, and my back bumps into the table. Then his hand buries into the back of my head and suddenly his harsh whisper cuts across my ear, the sound remarkably like steel.

“I don’t ever remember telling you that you could grab my cock in public.”

A small hiccup of fear cuts off my gasp when his hot breath billows over my neck. “I was just returning the favor.”

I wince as his fingers tighten around the strands of my hair.

“I think you’re a little fucking confused about your role, here.”

“Yeah?”

“Smartass.”

His hand suddenly wraps around my neck, the other one still pulling my hair, and he spins me so that my back is against his chest. I see myself in the highly reflective glass, chest pulsing under the flimsy dress he picked out for me.

“You do what I say—when I say it. That was the agreement.”

My derisive laugh echoes in the empty room. “I’m pretty sure the agreement was that I pay you fifty thousand—”

“I told you. I don’t give a fuck about the money.” The hand lightly grasping my neck slides down, and then he takes my breast under the dress. Electrical shocks run straight to my pussy as he grabs my nipple between his forefinger and thumb and squeezes. “I want you, and I’ll take you as payment. How many fucking times do I have to say it?”

A sudden thrill clenches my core as the words pulse in my head.

I want you.

His fingers splay over my breast, making the breath catch in my throat before he slides his hand to the other one, groping it.

What the hell does that mean? He doesn’t want the money anymore?

“But this is just—what about—?”

“Shut up and listen to me.”

The gruffness in his voice steals the rest of my words, and for a moment I’m stunned. Who the hell does he think he is?

His thumb circles my nipple, teasing the sensitive flesh, and then his tongue touches my neck. It’s hot and cold, like flesh on fire. His mouth closes over the skin and he sucks hard.

“You’re my fiancée. That means you’re mine, and you’ll do as you’re told.”

I think he’s forgetting that this was all an arrangement. My lips pull into a smile and he notices, biting down on my neck hard. The sharp pain makes me yelp.

“Or what?”

Then he grins. “Well, you might just get what you fucking want, that’s all.”

I’m yanked back as Tony pulls me behind the table, reaching out with an arm to sweep the candles and silverware from it. They fly off, bouncing and clanging noisily over the floor, and then he places a broad hand on my back, pushing me over the table.

“Tony!”

Desperate hands seize the edge of my dress and tug it over my back, exposing my ass to the air. I flatten against the wood, the curtains only partially obscuring us from the outside.

Fucking hell, I can see the party from here. All they would have to do is glance over.

“Tony, this is crazy.”

“You grabbed my cock in the middle of dinner. What, did you think I was going to ignore that?”

He can’t be fucking serious.

But my mind heats at the idea of him taking me right here, where they can see me. It makes me wonder. This was all supposed to be temporary, but we’re already breaking down all the rules we set for ourselves, and now he doesn’t even want my money?

What the hell is this, exactly?

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m not your fucking slave.”

“No, but you’re not a fucking princess, either. You don’t get to do whatever you want anymore. Understand?”

Scorching hands scrape at my thong, pulling it all the way down my legs. The fabric shivers against my skin, and I moan when he gives me a stinging slap across my ass.

“I asked you a question.”

It’s not as if I’m a stranger to being dominated like this. Rafael loved to “put me in my place,” but usually that involved beating me into submission. A real man doesn’t need to ask. She submits to him because she wants to, because his very presence makes her clit hum. Tony’s different.

He’s a bad boy, but I know he’d never raise a hand to me.

Well, you know what I mean.

Another hard slap burns my sensitive flesh as the blow reverberates through my body. I can’t really think about the pain. Everything hones in on how exposed we are. Jesus Christ, I can see them in the distance.

The ringing sound of his palm against my flesh snaps me out of it. I focus on his hand, splayed over my ass. He rubs the burn gently and I feel the warmth of his legs against mine. No one ever spanked me like this. Rafael’s hands were always about inflicting pain, but Tony’s caress soothes the slight burn.

“I can do this all fucking day.”

SLAP!

My body jerks on the table as another blow rips over my right cheek. “Yes—yes, I understand.”

He chuckles, the deep sound filling my chest with an angry glow. His hands roll over my curves, never ceasing their movement. It’s an incredible feeling.

“I never thought I would want to fuck a woman as often as I fuck you. I’m convinced you’ve laced your pussy with cocaine to get me addicted.”

I smile against the wooden table, and then his fingers curve over my hips and slowly descend to my pussy, which still hums with the vibrator. My shrill gasp echoes in the room as his fingers deftly reach inside, pulling the vibrator out. He rests it against my clit and then there’s a click. Suddenly I’m moaning against the table, rolling my tits over the hard wood as it makes my clit scream for more. I arch my back as his laughs wash over my ears. My lip bleeds as I bite down. Electricity shoots into me, making the delicate flesh seize over and over.

He rolls the vibrator up and down, moving it in circles around my clit. It’s torture. It’s maddening. I need him inside me. Now, before I scream out loud and alert the whole place to our shenanigans.

I reach behind myself, touching his leg, feeling the hardness of his muscles before finding his long cock. My fingers slide down his length, feeling the throb beneath the fabric, the cleft of his head, and the slight wetness seeping through his slacks.

With a gritty sort of growl, he pulls his pants down and I feel the meaty warmth of his cock pressing against my ass.

“You want this, baby? You want my cock inside you?”

“Yes, goddamn it!”

“You’re going to have to say it louder.”

“But—!”

But they’ll hear us!

They’re right there, eating dinner. All it would take is one shout, and they’d turn their heads, seeing us partially obscured by the curtains.

“I don’t give a fuck about what they think. You should realize that by now.”

No, he doesn’t give a fuck about anything.

The hand playing with my pussy presses the vibrator against my clit. Severe shocks rip through my core, making it clench madly. I grab the edge of the table, and even the hard surface of the wood against my tits is enough to make me roll my eyes.

“Oh my God… I’m going to come.”

He takes the vibrator away, and the blaze reduces to a smaller fire. It’s still burning hot, but I’m no longer on the verge of exploding.

“Tony, please fuck me!”

My voice echoes loudly in the room, and he chuckles. I can almost imagine him shaking his head.

“As my wife, you’ll have to learn to satisfy your husband.”

“Whatever, just fuck me!”

The laughter booming from his throat pisses me off. I want to turn around and grab his lapels, and force him to fuck me.

“I need you to scream.”

His cock plays with my pussy, the hard length sliding along my lips. I stick out my ass, trying to grind on him, but his broad hand stops me.

Scream? Scream what?

He doesn’t make it hard. The vibrator returns with a vengeance, and he slips it inside my wetness, pulsing it against my clit, pulling it out and rubbing the sensitive area, and then back inside. It’s agony.

“FUCK ME!”

The scream rips from my throat, and then my cheeks flood with shame as I see people at the table looking around for the noise.

Oh fuck.

But I forget all that the moment he flings the toy away, gripping my hips to position himself. The broad head of his cock pushes against my entrance and then he slides in, my walls tight around him. He sighs as though he stepped into a warm bath and then he digs in hard, knocking the air from my chest. It’s almost painful, but I’m so intent on clinging to him that I don’t give a shit.

I hear the grin in his voice. “I’m going to hammer your cunt so hard, you won’t be able to walk straight.”

And he does. My arms fly out, trying to seize purchase as he thrusts hard enough to throw my body forward. Solid hands wrench my hips backward, and every time his hips connect with mine in a loud smack, I groan out loud.

“Who owns you? Say it.”

A choked-off scream rips through my throat as his cock throbs inside me, pounding so hard I can feel the pain rocking through my body. Then he pulls out and turns me around so that I’m flat on my back, face-to-face with him.

For the first time, I see him as he really is. He’s not some guy I just paid to do a job for me. He’s Tony Vidal, a man who always gets what he wants, a wise guy who has decided he must have me.

My legs hitch over his shoulders as he thrusts inside me. He leans over, my legs screaming as he seizes a fistful of my hair and kisses me. His hot, urgent tongue swallows my protests, chokes off my moans, and I realize how much I’ve been craving this. All this time we’ve been fucking, it was good, clean fun, but it was empty.

This is completely different. It’s dirty and angry—reminding me of home in a twisted way. I need to feel like I belong to someone. He bites my tongue as I scream into his mouth, but he keeps rutting me hard as if he fucking hates me. I love it.

He’s fucking a new feeling inside me, something that makes me kiss him harder. I’m surrendering to him.

His cock pulses inside me, and I cling to his neck, moaning as he utters a groan and his legs slam hard into the table. Then I clench around him, feeling the explosion rip through me. Tenderness clenches my heart as he pulls me upright, wrapping his arms around me as his cock fills me with his essence.

My hand smoothes his lapels as his chest rises and falls, and I curl my fingers around his neck, gazing into his eyes, wrinkled with happiness. I feel lucky to have him. I’m growing more and more infatuated with him, or maybe it’s the glow of the orgasm making my heart pound harder when he gives me a gentle kiss.

“You’ve never fucked me like that before.”

“Did you like it?”

Then it’s my turn to lean in closer to whisper in his ear. “Do it again.”

* * *

It starts off like a small spark. Yellow bursts of light flinging out into space, only to disappear almost immediately. Over and over again, until it catches. Just one little flame, fairly easy to snuff out.

That’s what I’ve got. A little flame. It quietly warms my chest as I watch him get ready for his work. There’s no denying that I’ve got it pretty bad for him. I don’t know where it came from, but all of a sudden, I’m attached. Pinpricks of fear spread over my skin as I think about his work and the kind of trouble he might get himself into.

I like him, and I don’t know what to do about it.

His gaze meets mine through his bathroom mirror as he notices my stare. “What is it?”

My face flushes as though he can tell what I’m thinking by watching my eyes, and I shrug. He hesitates for a moment and continues shaving.

“I’m going to my place to pick up a few things.”

He bends his face into the sink and washes it before drying it off with a fresh towel. The light switches off and bathes him in darkness.

“And what if that shit stain is waiting for you there?”

Gentle hands cradle my face as he walks to the bed. Sometimes it hurts to see the indifference in his eyes. He rarely ever comes to life, except when he’s thrusting between my legs.

“Well, we’re engaged. He can’t touch me.”

“Yeah, except there’s the problem of the fucking baby. Anyway, that reminds me.”

He pulls something out of his pocket. A small black box. My heart thumps hard against my chest, even though I know it’s just for show. Even though it’s not really for me.

Tony takes my hand as he opens the box, revealing a beautiful white gold ring with a princess-cut diamond. He takes it out of its snug confinement and slowly slides it on my ring finger.

“Like it?”

Like it? “It’s—it’s beautiful. Where did you get it?”

He smiles at me. “Don’t worry about it.”

Probably stolen, then.

It dazzles in the light, all the diamond-cut shards in the band sparkling as I turn it to catch the beams.

“Is it weird that I’m much more excited about this than I should be?”

“It’s just a ring, Elena.”

The frost in his voice dampens my happiness, and I feel myself slam hard into the ground. Back to reality.

He doesn’t want to get married. Stop this right now.

Then he stoops down slightly and kisses the top of my head. “I’m glad you like it.”

Ready for work, he heads to the front door and I follow him. He gives me a nervous smile as he glances at the ring on my finger.

“See you later, I guess.”

The fabric of his jacket feels abrasive in my hands, but I pull him toward me anyway. I smell his aftershave on his slightly damp cheeks and I turn my head, crushing my lips against his. He smiles against mine, laughing at some joke in his head, and I slide the palm of my hand down his slacks, anchoring over his cock. He groans.

“Do all broads get wet over a diamond ring, or is that just a stereotype?”

I don’t know what it is.

“It’s you. You make me this way.”

A grin lightens his face as he gently takes my hand away from his cock. “Stop getting me turned-on before I have to leave.”

“It’s your fault for giving me this right before leaving.”

His eyes twinkle with mischief. “Hell, you’re right. I should at least get a thank-you blowjob.”

“When you come back,” I promise.

“Fuck.” He eyes my mouth with a carnal look that he somehow stuffs down.

I take his chin, my insides fluttering as I give him a soft kiss. His eyes stay closed when I pull away, and when they open I think I can see something flicker inside them.

“Bye, Tony.”

My words seem to snap him into action, and he mechanically leans forward, kissing my cheek. He lingers a little bit too long, but he still turns away to leave.

And a wild happiness lifts me up into the sky as though wings decided to sprout from my shoulders. I dress for the cold and make my way to my apartment, stuck in that contented fog. God, I’m becoming one of those people. Those blissfully unaware people walking down the street that I used to want to strangle, because the happiness that everyone seemed to have always escaped me.

It was always: hide, be quiet, keep your head down, and hope for calmer waters.

I unlock the door to my apartment, my spirit falling as I see the mess all over the floors. There wasn’t any time to come back after Rafael destroyed the place. For a moment my arms wrap around my body and a chill runs through me as though there’s an open window somewhere.

You shouldn’t have come here.

My limbs freeze even though my heart hammers against my chest. The horrific thought hisses in my ear in a harsh whisper.

Leave. Now.

I watch myself take a step toward the door. My hand reaches for the doorknob. I turn it. It’s locked. I must have locked it without even thinking. Then it takes me an eon to unlock it, the brass locks moving in slow motion. Footsteps echo hollowly in my heart. They’re hard and fast. A pressure squeezing down on my shoulder amps up the terror, and my voice lifts to the ceiling. Another hand clamps down hard over my mouth, cutting off the scream.

No. Oh God, no.

“You keep coming back here,” the dark voice says. “It’s almost as if you want me back.”

He pulls me into his body, his achingly familiar contours jutting into me. Then he takes his hand away from my mouth as something cold bites into my neck.

“Make a sound, and I’ll spill your dirty Vittorio blood all over the floor.”

That seething undertone in his voice makes my blood harden into ice. That deadly calm terrifies me more than anything. It means that he has nothing to lose and he’s not afraid to slit my throat.

Tony warned me. What the fuck was I thinking, coming here alone?

“Get off me!”

His arm tightens around my body, imprisoning me like a python coiling around my body, slowly squeezing me to death. “Why should I?”

Rafael drags me farther into the apartment, and my feet follow him backward.

“What are you doing?”

Arms pinned to my side, I’m fucking helpless. Every pause makes the knife cut into my throat, and something warm tickles down my neck. It’s not until he drags me into the bathroom that I see the line of red.

“Rafael, I’m engaged. He will fucking kill you!”

The door slams shut and he hurls me away from him. I slip on the tiles and fall on the toilet seat, gazing up at Rafael’s disheveled body.

He points the knife at me. “I’ll fucking kill you. We’re going to find out once and for all whether you are pregnant.”

His black jeans swim in front of me and the flat of his blade slaps my cheek. “I know it’s not beyond you to lie about something like this. You come from a family of rats.”

Burning, caustic rage explodes in my chest. “You just can’t stand the fact that I’ve found someone else. That I left you.”

I expect the blow, but it still hurts when his palm rips across my face. I catch myself almost immediately, gripping the edge of the toilet seat. He slams the knife on the counter and grabs a long box from a plastic bag.

It’s a pregnancy test.

My eyes burn as I take the box from him, shaking.

What the fuck am I supposed to do? I know that it’s going to be negative. I take my birth control pills religiously. It was a lie to make people believe our very abrupt, out-of-nowhere marriage.

Rafael takes the knife, his eyes simmering. “Take off your pants. Do it.”

He expects me to do this now? In front of him?

“At least give me some privacy.”

“What’s the matter? Are you afraid what it’ll say?” He smirks at me knowingly, giving the cheek where he slapped me a little tap. “Oh, I already fucking know you’re a piece of shit liar. I just need proof.”

“Then what? I’m still Tony’s fiancée.”

He leans in, his narrowed eyes almost gleaming with red as he presses his shaking lips to my ear. “You won’t be when Johnny finds out you paid Tony off with money that should’ve been given to Vince.”

A hole gapes inside me as though all my organs were sucked out by a vacuum. Dad never told me how he got the money, or where it was from. I never considered that it might not be entirely his, and I know Johnny. He doesn’t give a shit about me.

“Take off your clothes.”

Tears burn down my face as I look up at him, wanting to spare myself the humiliation of taking this test in front of him, but the knife doesn’t waver from my face. I stand up and pull down my jeans and panties in one swoop, opening up the toilet seat and sitting down before he has a chance to look.

Then I rip open the packaging and grab the pregnancy test. It looks like a thermometer. I take the cap off and tear the foil from the applicator, and then I just stare at it.

“Do it.”

I don’t have a choice.

Even though I know what it’ll say. Even though I know it’s hopeless, I point it toward my body and I relieve myself, jaw clenched shut. Then Rafael takes it from me.

“We have to wait three minutes. Here, do another one.”

To my astonishment, he shoves another box in my hand as he prepares a line of coke on my bathroom counter, cutting it with a small mirror before snorting it. Jesus. No wonder he looks like shit.

I wonder if I could just charge him right now—or maybe I should just grab my cell phone. It’s in my back pocket, sticking out. A few quick movements and I’d have Tony on the phone.

Not before he’d drag that knife across my throat.

I take the second test and give it to him. My stomach turns as the seconds tick by, and I see the cocaine coursing through Rafael’s system. The knife taps impatiently against the sink and then he looks down at the test.

The knife clatters against the sink—an ugly sound that makes me flinch.

He clenches the edge of the sink, his head hanging down, staring at the test results. It’s maddening.

“What the fuck?”

He says it in a soft voice that terrifies me, and I don’t know why it does. The second test—he grabs that, too.

“Oh my God.”

A shaking hand covers his mouth, and his head turns toward me, his eyes swimming with tears.

Tears.

What in the fucking fuck?

I can count on my hand the times I’ve seen Rafael cry. The first was when he hit me while my dad was still alive, when he was petrified for his life. The second is now.

“I’m so sorry, Elena.”

His words slam into my chest and I grab my jeans and panties, pulling them up as I walk over and push him aside. I look at the pregnancy tests. That positive, pink plus burns in my eyes. The other one has two pink lines.

Pregnant.

I’m actually pregnant.

WHAT THE FUCK?

I can’t scream it out loud, because Rafael’s arms wrap around my waist and he buries his face in my neck.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

His apologies are thick with tears, but I don’t feel a thing. Pregnant? How the hell is this possible?

Has to be a mistake. A false positive.

I can’t entertain the possibility that this might be true, that I might be pregnant, because how much of a disaster would that be? Assuming it’s Tony’s, he’d flip the fuck out. He doesn’t even want to get married. What’ll his reaction be when he finds out I’m carrying his child?

How am I supposed to bring a baby into my fucked-up life?

A smooth hand cradles my belly, and a wave of revulsion rises inside me. I shove Rafael’s body away from me.

“I fucking told you!”

Regret flashes over his eyes. “Baby, I—I didn’t know. This changes—holy Christ, I can’t believe I’m going to be a father.”

The fucking arrogance.

“What makes you think it’s even yours?” I seethe, enjoying the hurt transforming his face.

He raises his fists and my back hits the wall. He’s close enough so that I can feel his breath billowing over my face. “Don’t fucking push me, Elena.”

“Do you actually think that I would allow you to be in my child’s life? Look at you! You’re a fucking junkie.”

His nostrils flare. “Our child. And I’d like to see you make me stay away.”

“A few minutes ago, you were willing to slit my throat!”

His face pinches together. “I made a mistake—”

“—I would be dead, along with the baby. You’re not fit to be a father!”

“FUCK YOU!”

I scream as he punches his fist through the drywall next to my head, cowering as bits of plaster rain down. Rafael steps back, looking at his bloody hand in mild shock as he moves away from me.

That hole in the wall could’ve been me.

“You’re fucking crazy. Stay away from me!”

“Elena—”

He reaches forward with an apologetic hand, but I smack it away. He has the balls to look at me with a wounded face.

“I won’t tell Tony about this as long as you leave Montreal tonight. We both know he’ll have every reason in the world to kill you after this.”

Before he can respond, I sweep out of the bathroom, eager just to get the fuck out of this apartment and mull over everything that happened.

My chest feels incredibly tight, and the moment I step outside I gasp for air.

The tests could be false positives. Don’t freak out yet. Find out for sure.

But I just know that I am. I don’t know how or why, but some kind of sixth sense tells me that I’m carrying a child and I should be thankful.

Otherwise who knows what he would’ve done to me?

I can’t think about it until I know for sure.

Using my phone, I find the nearest hospital and walk through the doors, blinking at all the French signs. An hour later I’m staring at a nurse as she congratulates me on my pregnancy. It’s positive. I’m pregnant.

“How effective is this test?”

“Up to ninety-nine percent. Mademoiselle, do you want me to schedule a prenatal appointment?”

As I stare into the nurse’s happy, young face, tears well up in my eyes. I can’t be fucking pregnant. There’s no way—I take those pills every day.

But you might’ve forgotten a couple days. During that first night with Tony. You were upset. The pills were at home. You didn’t take one.

Fuck, that’s right. I might’ve missed a few days—shit, what was I thinking?

This is such a mess. I don’t want this baby—

Get an abortion.

It burns in my head, the forbidden word blazing, almost tangible on my lips, but I know that I can’t. The very idea fills me with horror. Not because it’s a sin. I don’t know—I just can’t do it. I can’t snuff out a life.

The nurse tries her best to comfort me, and sends me home with a thick envelope of pamphlets and forms and numbers of doctors I need to see and how am I going to tell this to Tony? How, exactly, am I going to break this to him?

I play with my cell phone, miserably contemplating phoning my sister about the news. My thumb hovers over his name.

I just can’t do it.

I don’t want him to hate me, too. So far, he’s the only person in the world who gives some semblance of a shit about me.

He’s the father of your child. He should know.

Not yet, I whisper desperately to the voice. Not fucking yet.

* * *

“Where were you?”

The question slams down on my shoulders the moment I walk through the door.

I didn’t expect him to be back so soon.

Tony walks into the foyer, dark hair tousled and his smoky eyes narrowed in suspicion. The moment I see him, it’s like a little jump to my heart. It’s as though my body knows that he’s the one who got me pregnant.

I take his hands and look into his gruff face, which demands an answer.

Tell him.

I open my mouth.

He deserves to know.

“I went out for a bit.”

“Where?” The heat in his voice makes me flinch. “I kept calling you, and you never answered. I thought something might’ve happened to you.”

You’re a coward.

My body feels tense, like a taut rubber band. I’m stretched way too thin, and any moment I’ll snap. Pressure builds behind my eyes: the baby, the wedding, Rafael, all of it. It’s one giant clusterfuck, and now he’s giving me a hard time.

“Well, I’m fine.”

In seconds he’s in my space, hip bumping against mine. Eyes narrowed in disapproval capture my gaze. It’s hard to look at him without feeling incredibly guilty.

“Are you giving me attitude?”

“Yeah, maybe I fucking am.”

He doesn’t deserve this. I know that, but I’m pissed and there’s no one else to blame but him. Because he did, after all, get me fucking pregnant. It was never supposed to be like this. I never wanted to get knocked up from a one-night stand. How fucking trashy is that?

He laughs as I try to push him away and catches my elbow. “Good. I like a girl with attitude. Makes it all the more satisfying when I shove my cock in her mouth.” He runs his thumb over my bottom lip, giving me a look that makes me smolder against my will.

I can’t help but want him.

“You promised me a blowjob, and I intend to get it.”

His sweet breath blows over my lips, and I lean forward, irresistibly drawn to his mouth. I kiss him, and my chest heats up as he deepens it, tongue sliding in my mouth. Damn, I love his fucking body. But—no!

I push his chest gently with my hand, and he gives me a puzzled look. “What’s wrong?”

I’m pregnant.

It hangs over my lips, but I desperately want to keep it a secret. This marriage might as well be real now that I’m pregnant, and I have no idea who this guy is. No idea at all, and I’m having his baby.

“I don’t know you, and we’re getting married in a week.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he says with a grin. “This was your idea, not mine.”

A sharp, desperate gasp echoes in the room as I imagine the white dress, the ceremony, doctor visits, and all the while, dealing with my ex. Meanwhile I’m pregnant and he has no idea. There’s not an inkling of suspicion in Tony’s eyes that I just might be developing feelings for him.

“I can’t do this anymore. This was a mistake—a stupid, stupid mistake!”

The pressure on both my shoulders increases and suddenly I collapse into a chair, Tony’s fierce face in front of mine.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re not fucking backing out now.”

I bristle under his gaze. “Says who?”

“Aside from the fact that it’s a piss-poor idea, because that lunatic will follow you wherever you go, I say so. We already told everyone about it. It’s too late for last-minute regrets.”

I rise to my feet defiantly, and he pulls my waist toward him. “I want to know the man I’m marrying, even if it’s not real.”

He rolls his eyes. “What difference does it make?”

“It’ll make me feel better.”

Then his arms drop around from my sides and he gets his coat from the closet, handing out mine.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going out.”

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Why?”

“To get to know each other.”