When He Takes: A Dark Mafia Romance (Fallen God Book 2)

Back at Frostbite Tavern, there’s a sign on the wall that says, “Lord, give me coffee to change the things I can, and wine to accept the things I can’t.”

Wise words.

When I hear Nero come through the front door about an hour after me, I’m on the living room sofa nursing a glass of red wine and trying to find just a little bit of that acceptance.

The soft satin robe I wrapped around myself feels rough against my raw skin.

I spent a good thirty minutes scrubbing myself in the shower, and yet I still feel dirty.

The image of that server keeps flashing in front of my eyes. That could’ve been me in my old life. That could have been me they were humiliating.

Those women are sick, plain and simple. And for the duration of that dinner, I had to pretend to be no different from them.

My stomach churns, and I feel disgusting.

Nero steps into the room. There’s an uneasy air about him and a storm brewing inside those hazel eyes.

“How did it go?”

“Fine.” He loosens his necktie with a sharp tug and undoes the top button of his shirt.

“You don’t look fine.”

He walks over to the small bar in the corner and starts pouring himself a whiskey. “Neither do you.”

I put the wine down on the coffee table. “These people are psychopaths.”

“What happened?” he asks, keeping his back to me.

“A waitress spilled a drink on Ekaterina, and you should have seen how she reacted. She humiliated her. Poured champagne on her and threatened to force her to clean the spilled drink off the ground with her tongue. Who the hell talks to people like that? She has serious issues. I don’t want to imagine how she’d behave if her side ruled this city.”

Nero walks over to sit on the couch beside me. He looks down into his glass, his jaw clenched.

“You don’t have anything to say to that?” I prod.

“What do you want me to say? Did you really think they’d be nice people when you signed us up for this? You’re not supposed to like them, Blake. You’re supposed to want to take them down.”

Goosebumps scatter over my arms. Take them down?

Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it? Ekaterina deserves it.

What? No. I don’t want to take anyone down. Where did that thought even come from?

I swallow, unsettled. That’s not why I’m doing this. I just want to help Nero and then put as much distance as I can between myself and these people.

“Is that it? How was the rest of the evening?”

I look over at Nero. “Uncomfortable. She prodded me about you.”

He sniffs. “What did she ask?”

“She kept bringing up the fact that your position has changed. I guess she tried to see how I felt about your demotion.”

Nero’s expression grows even more tense. “So did Maksim. They must have decided that’s the weak spot they need to exploit.”

Worry runs through me. I can’t imagine Nero responded well to that.

His knuckles turn white around his glass. “How do you feel about it?”

“About what?”

“My position.”

“I acted as if I’m angry on your behalf. I think she bought it. She kept trying to imply that you’re weak. I think she wanted to see if that bothers me.”

“Does it?” His voice is clipped.

“Of course not. I don’t care about what position you hold.”

“Don’t you? You seem determined to make me capo.”

“Yeah, because if you keep doing what you’re doing now, you’re far more likely to end up dead.”

His jaw moves as he stares into his glass for a few moments, and then he tosses the whiskey back.

“How did it go for you?” I ask.

“You came up.”

“Did I?”

“Maksim said I have a very beautiful wife. He wanted to know how you liked New York. I lied and told him you’re warming up to it.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe you should have told him I’m miserable, and that you’re desperate to make me happy. If you make him think your life is in ruins, he’ll believe you’re willing to do whatever it takes to—”

“This was never supposed to have you at the center of it, Blake,” he snaps. “And I don’t fucking like it. Every time he mentioned you, I wanted to shove my gun between his lips and pull the trigger.”

The raw fury in his voice makes the hairs on my arms stand up straight. “He’s just trying to push your buttons.”

“Maybe you’re right. If so, he’s doing a hell of a job of it.” He slams his empty glass on the coffee table, rises to his feet, and walks over to the window. “I keep thinking about how he looked at you at the gala. Like you’re something he wants to own.”

There’s something in his tone that sends a shiver through me. “He liked my dress, that’s all.”

He anchors his palms against the window frame. “A year ago, no man would’ve dared look at you that way. Not if they knew you’re mine. But now, they’re not afraid of me anymore.”

My gaze slides down his body. He’s tense, and his back muscles flex under the fabric of his shirt. I wonder if we both feel caged, albeit in different ways.

He’s not used to being bossed around. To not being at the top. He doesn’t have to pretend to be upset about how much he’s lost.

Some force pulls me to my feet. I walk up to him. I want to comfort him, to embrace him, to tell him it will be okay.

But as I reach for him, my hand freezes halfway.

The more closeness I allow between us now, the more he’ll be hurt when I leave.

I don’t want to hurt him, but I can’t stay in this world with him. I’m afraid of what will happen to me if do. My mother betrayed herself over and over again for the sake of a man who lived in the shadows, and I had a front row seat to her heartbreak and pain. And it didn’t even end after my father died, because then Uncle Lyle started knocking on our door and dragging us back into the darkness.

I refuse to let history repeat itself.

There is no happiness for those who love criminals, and it would be naïve to think that I could be the exception to that rule.

Nero will miss me when I’m gone—for a bit at least—but being made capo will soften the blow.

It won’t take him long to find someone else to keep by his side. After all, he’s never had trouble with that.

I drop my hand back down. “This is temporary,” I say softly. “You can’t let Maksim get to you.”

Nero whips around to face me. “He wants you,” he growls, his eyes flashing with anger and frustration. And then he wraps his fist around the knot holding my robe together. His knuckles press just below my breasts, and he tugs me toward him.

I make a surprised gasp.

“Can’t you see it?” he demands.

“He’s married,” I whisper.

“You think that matters to him?” His eyes drop to my lips, and I feel an unwelcome rush of heat in the pit of my belly.

It drives me crazy how he can still make me feel this way. How one look can send me reeling. How one touch can set me alight.

I fight to keep my voice steady. “How could I forget that men in your line of work are never hindered by things like marriage vows?”

He tugs me even closer, until the hard points of my nipples make contact with his chest. Our close proximity makes my pussy clench.

“You’re putting me in the same category as Maksim?”

I’m not. By now, I know Nero would never cheat on me. He was willing to die for me.

But I need to wedge something between us, something that will push him away. “Do you have to ask why? Have you forgotten the conversation we had at the restaurant? You asked me if I’m okay with you sleeping with other women. If I’d said yes, you would have gone out and done just that.”

His laugh is darkened at the edges. “I know you’re not being serious right now.”

“I am.”

Frustration rages through his features. “God, Blake. I want to bend you over my knee and spank some sense into you.”

The imagery makes me squeeze my thighs together. That statement should piss me off, not turn me on. There’s a building panic inside my chest as my resolve begins to slip.

He bends his neck, bringing our faces close together. “When are you going to understand that other women don’t exist for me anymore? There’s only you. There will only ever be you.”

A wave of heat crashes through me. As his heady scent envelops me, I can feel my control unraveling bit by agonizing bit. I shouldn’t have drunk more when I got home. The alcohol’s taken the edge off my restraint, and that’s a dangerous thing when Nero is around.

His long fingers unwind from around the knot of my belt, and he takes a half step back. At first, I think he’s about to walk away, but then he pinches one of the tails of the belt and stretches it taut.

He waits.

Waits to see if I’ll stop him. If I’ll rip it out of his hand like I should.

But I’m frozen. Ensnared by his gaze. There’s an energy swirling inside my body, desperate to be released after being bottled up for so damn long.

His eyes stay glued to my face. “It’s killing me that I can’t have you. That you won’t trust me.”

I do.

“That you won’t forgive me.”

I already did.

But if I tell him the only thing still keeping me from accepting this new life is my belief that I can never be truly happy with someone like him, someone who lives in the shadows, someone who forced me to marry him, I’m afraid he will make it his mission to prove me wrong. I’m afraid he’ll convince me to believe in a fairytale, a story that’s not real.

So I lie. “There’s nothing you can do,” I breathe. “What you did is unforgivable.”

Pain flashes inside his gaze. “I had to lie to you. I had to lie to everyone.” He shakes his head. “It wasn’t easy. On more than one occasion, I thought about telling you the truth, so that you’d know all of me. See all of me.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Because if you saw me, you would leave. Just the way I think you still want to leave now.”

My heart stutters on a beat. Does he know about my agreement with Vita?

No. He’s guessing. He’s trying to see how I’ll react. I stay silent as I hold his gaze and pull on my bottom lip with my teeth.

He starts to tug the silk belt open. “Don’t you feel the pull between us?” His voice is raw and filled with hunger I recognize all too well. “It’s still there. It never left.”

An embarrassing wetness trickles down my inner thighs. “No,” I whisper, without any conviction.

The knot comes undone with a twist. A breeze would be enough to part the robe now, but in the still air, it hangs frozen, giving Nero only a narrow glimpse.

He lets out a heavy breath. “I dream of you every night, Sunshine. Of having you writhe beneath me again. I dream of your moans and the way you used to gasp my name when I buried myself deep inside of you. I dream of nipping on your perfect lips with my teeth and then kissing them better. And I dream of that moment when we’d both reach our peak and it felt like we were the only people left in this entire wretched world.”

My heart is a frantic drum inside my chest. I know I should put an end to this, but the truth is…I can’t bring myself to do it. I miss him too. I miss the way things were between us before I learned the truth.

He drags the tip of his finger in a line between my breasts. “I’ve hurt you, so let me make it better. Let me give you pleasure to make up for the pain.”

My eyelashes flutter. It feels like my entire lower body has started to liquefy, and it’s getting hard to maintain a grasp on any rational thought.

If I let him open the robe, he’ll know. He’ll see the red flush over my chest. He’ll see my nipples sharp as points. And when he dips his hand between my legs, he’ll find me drenched.

And he’ll know I want him too.

My body throbs with need. My control makes a last gasp at the edges of my conscience and then dies a quick death.

I take a step closer.

Nero’s eyes flash. He grabs the robe by the lapels, opens it, and lets it fall off my shoulders. Ravenous dark eyes slide down my body. It’s as if he’s looking at the best damn meal he’s ever seen.

He lifts his hand to my chest and rubs his thumb over my nipple, shooting sparks straight to my swollen clit. “You belong in my bed, beautiful wife,” he murmurs. “But since you won’t come to me there, I will make you come for me right here.”

A hand slides over my belly, going lower and lower, until it’s there.

“Oh God,” I gasp when his warm hand cups my sopping pussy. My head tips backward as two thick fingers slide inside of me and curl.

“That’s my fucking girl,” Nero growls, eating up the remaining distance between us and pressing his fully clothed body against my naked front. He grabs a handful of my ass and presses his lips to my neck while finding my clit with his thumb.

I moan at the sensation. I moan at having him wrapped around me once again. There’s safety and comfort in his embrace, but it’s an illusion.

An illusion I can allow myself to believe just for a little bit.

He carries me to the sofa with ease and makes me straddle his lap, his face a mask of dark lust. His hands trace over my chest, his touch gentle but sure, as if he wants to remind me how well he knows exactly what makes me tick.

A swipe of his tongue along the underside of my breasts. A pinch to my nipples. Hot, wet kisses over my sensitive flesh.

I pant and writhe against him, rubbing myself over the hard ridge of his cock. The added friction from his trousers being in the way is enough to drive me insane.

That’s exactly what I feel like. Like I’m losing my mind.

“Fuck, baby,” he swears. “You’re gonna make me come in my pants if you keep grinding yourself on me like that. This isn’t supposed to be about me at all.”

I don’t have time to formulate a response before my back hits the sofa and he buries his face between my legs. His hands curl in a possessive hold over my thighs. The world tilts a little more with each thorough lick, each hungry suck.

Shivers race down my spine as he plunges his tongue inside of me before moving back to circle my clit. I wrap my palms over his strong shoulders and hold on for dear life.

There’s a buzzing sound inside my head. My inner muscles spasm. I move my hands to tangle in his hair, and I tug him closer. He makes a rough sound somewhere between a moan and a growl. Stars appear. Then fireworks. And then a supernova rushes through me in a wave of liquid heat.

“Nero,” I choke out as he pins me with his dark eyes.

My hips rise off the sofa while he holds me tightly and helps me ride the waves of my orgasm.

It’s so, so good.

I let myself drift in and out of this orgasmic bliss, but when the waves finally stop cresting, reality comes crashing down.

I blink at the ceiling and slowly let go of Nero’s hair.

What have I done?

His shadow falls over my body as he rises to his feet, but I don’t meet his gaze.

I can’t.

Guilt and shame and longing slowly press down onto my chest. It feels like a cruel curse to love a man who isn’t right for me.

I pick up my robe off the floor with trembling hands, wrap it tightly around me, and slink away, leaving my husband standing against the backdrop of the city below.

It’s only after I lock the bedroom door that I allow my tears to fall.