The Arrangement (11 page)

“Just …” A huff of breath escaped her. “Why all this secrecy?”

“I missed you,” he said instead.

“You woke me up to say goodbye this morning. You were only gone a few hours.”

Anton shrugged, tilting her head up. His mouth brushed feather-light kisses on her cold cheeks, warming the flesh instantly. It was the closest he’d come to kissing her lips, and suddenly she was overwhelmed with wanting the heat of his mouth on hers. Shivering from everything but the cold, he held her tighter as his eyes flickered with something she didn’t recognize.

“What is it?” Viviana asked, worried something had happened he didn’t mention. “You’re here, so I’m good now. We can … I don’t know, do whatever. Go back to the house if you want, or take Rocco back to that pond he seems to like.”

“What I want …” Trailing off, he abruptly kissed her hard with no warning, her mouth opening instantly to taste the sweetness of his.

The taste of cigarettes and the faintest trace of bourbon was heavy on his tongue. It swept into her willing mouth with force. The kiss wasn’t gentle, soft, or slow like she expected, but instead he commanded with his mouth on hers, dominating and wanting so heavily with every sweep of his tongue. Tasting, needing, feeling. The ache that traveled from her middle outwards was all-encompassing. When his lips slowed, pecking light touches to the corner of her mouth, his thumbs rolled over her smiling cheeks.

“I missed you,” he repeated with a throaty tone that had her muscles constricting. “Didn’t take the chance to kiss you, either. The first thing I should have done when you agreed to marry me last week was lay you across that bed and show you how happy that made me. Or just kissed you; that would have worked, too, hmm?”

“I was starting to think you didn’t want to kiss me,” she teased.

Anton’s eyebrow cocked at the statement. “I want to do a lot more than just kiss you, Viviana.”

His hand ran down her coat to push against the small of her back. Pressing lightly, he drove Viviana’s body into his. Underneath his dress pants, the length of his thick erection pressed to her side, making his point clear. Her throbbing sex clenched at the thought of his suggestion, desire raging a war within her body while she breathed in the smell of him all hot and heavy.

“All week you haven’t once—”

“I know,” he interjected softly, smiling just a little. “I was battling something, I suppose. Trying to make sure you were doing this because you wanted to …”

“Because I wanted you,” she assumed when he wouldn’t finish.

Anton sighed. “That, too.”

“What is it
you
want, Anton?”

“I want to go home; I think Rocco has played enough, no?”

“Okay.” Actually, that was more than okay. “But—”

“No buts, things can wait, others can answer, and doors will be locked.”

Driving her frame closer again, his fingers danced along the front of her shirt and down to the waistline of jeans only to slip under the fabric skillfully. Anton hummed low and deep from the back of his throat at the sound of her harsh intake of air. She felt his digits skim the sides of dampened panties.

“Let me touch you. I’ve waited so long … I
need
to.”

Viviana gave her approval with a nod. The opened jacket he wore hid her trembling frame when two fingers swept underneath the fabric and between her fleshy folds and tapping hard to her swollen, heated clit. The whimper that fell from her parted lips tumbled out loudly, his responding chuckles reverberating down to the pulsing at the apex of her thighs even more.

“Nine years is too long to wait for us. Feel this, you’re already soaking my fingers at the thought. I have time to make up for. Home …” he demanded again, leaning down to nip his teeth on her jaw and removing his hand. “Let’s go.”

Was she supposed to say no?

The lightest sensation of something feathering over her closed eyes woke Viviana. Instead of giving away her awakened state, she relaxed into the pads of Anton’s thumbs tracing down over the apples of her cheeks before sweeping over her parted lips. She could still taste the faintest trace of her sex on his skin.

It brought with it a hot, heady memory of his hand grabbing the inside of her leg as he spread her legs father apart. By then, juices had smeared down her thighs; she had been so ready and wanting of Anton before they’d even gotten started.

She could remember his teeth possessively biting into where her hickey had finally faded, his cock buried balls deep into her from behind. A strong arm wrapped her middle, lifting her onto the bed higher, giving him better access to hit all those spots she needed him to with the hardest, deepest thrusts she’d ever felt in her life.

When she’d looked back over her shoulder with teeth biting into her bottom lip, his face had been right there, meeting hers, staring so honestly. With a single fleeting glance, Viviana swore she saw the insides of his soul and back again. Everything and anything he was ever going to want was laid bare in his bright blue cerulean eyes.

“No more marks,” he had said, his voice throaty and severe. The words had been punctuated by his hips meeting her ass, the force of the thrust sending her sprawling forward to catch herself. “None on your skin unless I put them there. No man touches you again, Viviana.”

The promise from her was a broken sound as his demanding, rough rhythm started. “No … none.”

“I’ll fucking kill them if they do.”

Any other woman might have been frightened by his admission, especially when his hands grasping her body tightened almost painfully. His clean-cut fingernails scratched into her thighs, scoring red lines she’d see for days. His actions only really served to show and prove to her just how serious he was, how much he wanted and needed her, too.

Mob men had a possessive streak over their women. What was theirs was theirs, and that was all there was to it. They didn’t marry a woman who wouldn’t look good on paper, who wouldn’t be appropriate sitting beside them on a pew at church. They didn’t speak vows to mistresses. No, they only made public lives with women who understood exactly what was expected of them. Some would lie, cheat, and hurt their wives until the bitter end, but they still expected their women to be as pure as a dove.

And if that woman failed, well, there was a place for them, too. Six feet under. Whether or not that was true, Viviana couldn’t say. She’d heard and seen enough things over the years to believe it was, but just like the rest of her life had been, walls could not speak and windows did not see.

She didn’t want to be that woman, but she didn’t want a husband who had five other women he could turn to at any time, either.

“You’re not really sleeping, Viviana. I can see those wheels of yours turning.”

At his blackstrap thick voice, her eyes finally fluttered open. Anton cocked his propped up head to the side in an almost animalistic way, regarding her with an intense gaze that set her insides to a fever pitch all over again.

It was the same expression he wore earlier that day when the front door slammed open and his hand was already up her shirt. The same piercing stare he leveled on a bull who was inside talking with the maid before he snarled at them both to, “Get the fuck out.”

The doors between floors had been locked, keeping the upstairs from coming down and vice versa. When his cell phone began beeping, she vaguely remembered him leaving her body long enough for her back to meet the bed before he was gone to grab the offending device. The bedroom door slammed closed once more before his phone had even hit the hallway floor and he was crawling back between her open thighs again.

Anton had a purpose with her, clearly, and he didn’t want to be interrupted by anything.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

Viviana caught his thumb on the corner of her lip, turning her face into his palm. Anton tasted distinctly of sex, and her stomach was already clenching with a heavy desire to have him so rough and hard again. The possessive dominance he seemed to own that screamed she was only his. She wanted it all.

“Nothing.”

“Mmm, I think you’re lying to me. Don’t lie to me, baby.”

Telling him that she had once again been considering the possibility of his mistresses probably wasn’t the best idea. “Really, it’s noth—”

Their naked legs intertwined beneath soft sheets. Without warning, she found herself above him, black hair falling over her shoulders in a curtain wave. Straddling his waist, Viviana could plainly feel the length of his hard erection pressing between slick, fleshy folds. With every jostle of their bodies, it rubbed so deliciously sweet along her swollen clit. When his hands grabbed to hold the curve of her hips, grinding his cock up into her harder, she let her head fall back to just
feel
him like that for a single moment.

“Tell me.”

“It was … Oh, fuck, don’t stop doing that.”

“Viviana. I swear if you don’t start speaking, I’ll tan your ass to a pretty red.”

Would he? The thought might have excited her more than she was willing to admit.

“I promise it was nothing.”

Really, it was starting to feel like that, what with the circumcised tip of his cock teasing the hood of her clit the way it was. Every strong stroke as he slid her along his length again and again was making her wetter and hotter.

Bare he felt so much better. Without latex sheathing him, she could feel every glorious inch of him when he was inside. Every vein and ridge was exposed for her to explore. The way she took him in and surrounded his cock like a perfect fitting glove was delirious. Her body was made for his. Given his very clear demand that she keep up whatever appointments needed for her birth control shot, Anton obviously didn’t have a desire to use condoms with her.

The heady smell of her arousal hung heavy in the air. The juices spread along the length of his cock and between her thighs, smearing more as he came a little closer to her waiting sex.

“Were you thinking about school?”

“No.”

“Your walk with Ivan, then?”

Another stroke and his hand was moving, guiding his cock into her entrance and stretching her full with a single movement. Her fleshy folds parted so easily, taking him all the way in as she sighed, relieved. Goddamn, he felt so good hitting that hyperaware spot inside that made her tremble and had her fists clenching against his muscled abdomen.

“Viviana …”

The tone of his voice was almost a singsong, if the warning hidden behind it wasn’t so clear.

“No, not that.”

“Are you worried?”

She spread her knees wider under his urging hands, lifting along his length before slowly dropping down again. How could she be worried being with him like this? There wasn’t a single thing that could even possibly bother her when she got to have him like this.

“Of course not.” The reply from her lips fell like a breathy gasp. “Not worried.”

Suddenly, Anton’s teasing rhythm stopped. “Me, then?”

Viviana choked on the emotions that built up so quickly inside her chest. “Please, Anton. I said it was nothing.”

Again, she found herself turning in a flurry of movement. On her back, he was still buried deep, leaning high above her to hit a switch over the headboard. Light illuminated his beautiful, striking form better for her to see. The heavy, dark curtains had been pulled closed in the room.

“I don’t want you lying to me.”

“It wasn’t anything I needed to bother you with,” she argued, avoiding his gaze.

“Anything that concerns you is my top priority,” Anton replied. “I’m not sure if you think it would be nothing more than an annoyance to me, but it wouldn’t.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I think it’d be. It’s not my place—”

“Whoa, stop that bullshit right there.” Viviana’s head snapped up at his angry tone. Disbelief flitted over the handsome features that she’d missed for so long. “Not your place? Viviana, your place is with me, baby. Yeah, I can’t have you throwing a tantrum in public or walking in on me or my associates, but that has nothing to do with this right here.”

Didn’t it
, she thought. Their whole arrangement had come together because of business and family. She was, after all, meant to be the quintessential mob wife. Perfect in every sense of the word. Polite and pretty on the arm of her husband. Appropriate and quiet about what went on behind closed doors. Sadness or discomfort was to be hidden behind with designer sunglasses and lipsticked smiles.

“I don’t know what you expected of me, but that isn’t it,” Anton murmured softly.

“Isn’t it?”

For a moment, he looked torn above her. The clenching of his fists along her sides moved fast, dragging down the sheets to rest at her spread legs. Tension was written so painfully clear along the tight line his lips had drawn.

“No.”

Viviana didn’t want to anger him, but she wanted to make her point, too. “How many homes do you have, Anton?”

“Six. One in Moscow, a small vacation home in Hawaii, two in New York besides this one, and large acreage out of state.”

“And how many do you use?”

“All of them at one point or another. Why?”

Viviana licked her lips, trying desperately to ignore the hard, twitching cock still buried deep between her thighs. “How many can I use?”

Again, Anton appeared confused. “What?”

“If I wanted a change in scenery, or if I needed to go on a vacation but you still needed to work … could I take any key to those six homes and leave without you? I asked about homes, but what about apartments or penthouses. How many of those do you own?”

“None. I don’t need them. And yes, of course you’ll have access to all of my other properties. What are you trying to get at here?”

“How many children do you already have?”

Anton froze, eyes narrowing. “I—”

“Mistresses, too. Maybe you don’t own their apartments or flats. Did I not ask the right question to get the best answer? Should I have asked if you bought it for them instead?”

“For fuck sake, Vine. Shut up for a second.” Hot, wet tears had snaked lines from the corners of her eyes down over her cheeks and she hadn’t even realized it. He brushed the wetness away. “Jesus, stop crying … never cry in our bed. That’s the last thing you should ever do here.”