Belonging to the Italian Mafia Boss: A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Possessive Mafia Kings Book 7)
Belonging to the Italian Mafia Boss: Chapter 8

Things changed over the last month, and I realized quickly that Bruce had taken my words to heart. I was rarely left alone in my room without reason. I spent my weekends helping at the construction site, building relationships with many of the men there. They taught me techniques that fascinated me, and I wondered if I had a calling in the area.

Without the large space heaters, though, it had become far too cold to be outside for long, so Karsen and I had spent a lot of time together. I had all the books I could hope to read during my downtime, and I did a great job organizing and keeping track of the company books and ledgers.

I’d been busy, and I’d been satisfied. I couldn’t remember the last time those two things had happened at the same time.

That was likely why it took me so long to realize that my monthly cycle had been late. Significantly late. As I checked the date, I realized that I was due two weeks ago. I couldn’t go and get pregnancy tests, but as I considered alternatives, I recalled seeing a box in Karsen’s bathroom a few weeks ago. It was my only option, so I stood out of bed and left my room, rushing down the hallway and praying she wasn’t home.

I didn’t think I was pregnant. I’d had late periods before, but… never this late.

I knocked on Karsen’s room door, and when nobody answered, I sighed in relief and let myself inside. I’d make it quick. I pushed into the bathroom and opened the cabinet, praying that I would replace them where they had been the last time I’d been in here. To my luck, sitting in an open box were three tests. I grabbed one and walked out quickly, careful to leave everything where I found it.

When it tested negative, I’d tell her. I just needed to be sure first.

I ran back to my room, peed on the stick, and left it to process for a few minutes as I paced the room. Pregnancy was not something I was interested in enduring—not when I’d seen how other women in my life had coped with it. Having a baby to raise felt like a disservice to the child after all I’d gone through in my life.

I couldn’t be a good mother. I just couldn’t.

A knock came at the door, and I eyed the test in the bathroom. I’d placed it behind the toilet paper, and it wasn’t easily visible from here, but I closed the bathroom door on my way to the main door.

Bruce stood on the other side, and the pending pregnancy test in the bathroom had me biting my lip in nervousness. “I wasn’t expecting you,” I told him. “I thought we finished our work for the day.”

We’d gone to a lot of places today, and I’d helped him stake his claim to my father’s title in every way I could. It shouldn’t have felt easy to give the man who killed my father what he wanted, but… it was. I was beginning to believe the words I said to the people in my father’s district, and I didn’t know how I felt about that.

“I have something for you,” he told me, pushing past me and coming into the room. “You haven’t brought your gun anywhere. I gave it to you for protection.”

I noticed his frustrated tone and paused, surveying the situation. “I don’t have anywhere to keep it. I can’t carry it in my hand,” I told him.

“Where is it?”

“Did you come in here to take it?” I asked, moving toward the dresser and grabbing the small gun from where it had been tucked away since he’d given it to me. He had no idea how much more comfortable having it in here had made me, but if he wanted it back, I wouldn’t argue.

I extended it to him, and he came forward. But before he took it, he dropped to a knee before me and grabbed my ankle. I tried tugging it away, but his grip was firm as he wrapped a piece of leather around it tightly, adjusting it until it fit snuggly but not too tight. Then, he grabbed the gun I held and tucked it inside, securing a strap around the top.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“A solution to your fucking excuses,” he said, standing and pointing to it. “It’s a discreet holster for your weapon, and it will give you a way to carry it around without everyone knowing you have a weapon. As far as we’re concerned, nobody will know you have this.”

My mind flashed to Tucker and how he’d pinned me against the wall and threatened me. I considered telling Bruce, but I valued my life enough to know that was a poor decision, so I kept my mouth shut, saying nothing more than “thank you.”

“Go ahead. Grab it,” he demanded. I raised a brow, but I did as he expected, grabbing it in my hand and gesturing to it.

In one instant, he stood before me, looking at the gun. In the next, he had me pinned roughly to the wall. I gasped at the quickness he pressed me into it. It was the same spot that his brother had put me in, and as his arms caged me in, I thought about what Tucker had done. Only this time, I wasn’t afraid. I didn’t fear Bruce’s nearness. In fact, it did something to my stomach that I didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Do you remember what I said?” he asked.

“You say a lot of things,” I replied, my voice breathier than anticipated.

“If anyone touches you in a way you don’t like, shoot them.” He grabbed one of my wrists and pinned it to the wall above my head, and damn it, I became liquid beneath him, my mind flashing back to the last time he’d pinned me. He gathered my other wrist—the one with the gun—and put it in the same place, capturing both of them with a single hand. “That includes me.”

I only shook my head, but I didn’t say anything more.

With his other hand, he trailed a finger up my waist before groping my breasts, and I forced myself not to react to the gesture. Chills ran through every part of me as his thumb grazed my nipple, and I nearly jerked into him as I rested my head against the wall.

“I’m aware,” I whispered, biting my bottom lip.

“I’m doing this because I need to be sure you’re not afraid to use it,” he told me. Then, that hand moved up, between my breasts, and around the back of my neck. I didn’t feel even the slightest tinge of fear as he gripped a fist full of my hair and jerked my head back, revealing my throat.

I didn’t mind. He didn’t seem to realize that it didn’t have the desired effect as I found my breath escaping me in soft pants. His lips came down on the side of my throat, and he nipped me there.

“Are you going to fight me?” he asked, tugging my hair a little harder. It was almost painful, but combined with all of his other touches, I couldn’t feel anything but arousal.

So I told him the full, unadulterated truth.

“I like how you touch me,” I said. “And I don’t think you can do anything to make that change.”

“Fuck,” he drawled, biting my throat a little harder. “God fucking damn it, Sabrina.”

I didn’t know why he cursed at me until I felt the gun leave my grasp, and my wrists went free just long enough for him to grab my hips and heave me upright. I wrapped both legs around him, and I placed both hands on his chest.

“I’m sorry?” I said uncertainly.

“When I pull your hair and I do something to scare you, I don’t want you to tell me that it turns you on. Now, all I can think about is throwing you on that bed, wrapping my hand in that long hair of yours, and fucking you until you beg me to stop,” he snarled, pressing his forehead into mine. “If that’s not what you want, you need to tell me right now.”

I knew I could stop this, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to.

“Show me what it’s like being with a mafia boss.”

Another few curses left his mouth as he turned and did exactly as he swore, tossing me on the bed and climbing atop me without an ounce of hesitation. He pressed his face into the side of my throat and groaned deeply. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he admitted, shaking his head. “Fuck, Sabrina.”

How did I tell him he had no idea what he did to me, either? It felt wrong to feel that, but no matter what, I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop the burning arousal that coursed through every fiber of my being. His lips found mine, and the warmth and ecstasy of the moment had me gasping at his breaths. I arched my back to get closer to him, and as his fingers rested between my thighs, working me there, I came undone far faster than I would have ever anticipated.

I shattered beneath him.

He gripped both of my hips as I writhed, and he lifted me to a sitting position, tugging my shirt over my head. I wrapped both arms around the back of his neck, and he stood, bringing me with him.

“Do you like being fucked?” he asked. “I don’t do gentle.”

“I can take whatever you can give,” I told him, biting my lip as he grabbed my ass and pulled me into him.

“You’re going to regret saying that, little one,” he ground through clenched teeth, lifting and pressing me into the wall. He effortlessly undid his belt with a single hand and allowed his pants to drop. He didn’t even remove his boxers all the way as he pulled his long, solid cock from them, gripping the shaft of it as moisture beaded the tip.

“One of these days, I’m going to fuck your pretty mouth, but right now, I want to fuck that tight pussy,” he said, gripping my chin and pressing my head back and into the wall behind me. I felt as his fingers made room for him, and then, with one long thrust, he took me. The feeling of him was better than it had been the first time as I moaned.

I didn’t know what to do with my limbs or any part of myself as his grip on my chin tightened. “Look at me.”

It took more effort than I wanted to admit for me to open my eyes and look into his. He stared so deep into my soul that I could feel him working me in every possible way. I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t do anything but remain victim to his gaze and shutter as my orgasm built more quickly than I could handle.

“Harder,” I shouted to him, feeling the restraint he used as he plunged into me. With one of his hard thrusts, I came unraveled, my moans echoing across all the walls.

His hand slid down my chin and rested on the side of my throat as he pulled my face into his and captured my lips. He obliterated me in every way, and I cried against him as he stopped, breathing deeply.

He stared into my eyes, and new emotions festered there—one that I hadn’t seen in him before. He looked content—something that I hadn’t seen in him before.

“You take your wifely duties to heart,” he said, pulling himself from me. I shuttered at the feeling of him leaving me. The seed of him ran down my leg, and he glanced at it for a moment, giving me a satisfied smirk and leaving the room.

I stood in shock for a few moments, collecting myself and wondering what had just happened between us. He’d given me a gift—a generous one that I appreciated endlessly. But then, he’d left so suddenly.

I glanced around the room, my eyes focusing on the bathroom door in a heart-dropping moment of memory. Each step toward the door felt like it took forever, and when I finally pushed it open, the pregnancy test rested face up on the counter. Somehow, I knew what I’d see before I got in range, and when I read the single word across the digital test, I froze, staring at it and forcing myself to take deep breaths.

Pregnant.