Runaway Queen: A Dark Mafia Romance (Made of Mayhem Duet Book 2)
Runaway Queen: Chapter 17

I used her head start to try to drag some sanity back into my mind. The dark possession that filled me when I was within arm’s reach of Sofia fogged my thoughts. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to strangle her. I wanted to eat her alive. Most of all, I wanted to bury myself so deep inside her, fill her up with my cum so full, she’d never get me out.

Yesterday had given me the answer I was so desperate for. Sofia might fight me and lie to me. She might keep her secrets from me. But she wouldn’t run from me and she wouldn’t send me back to jail.

That meant, in my world, she wanted to play. I’d oblige her.

I prowled the classroom, holding myself back just long enough. I was a fair sportsman after all. I hadn’t been exaggerating. Once I found her, I was going to fuck her until she screamed. If she really thought she could evade me, it would only make it more delicious when I caught her.

I gave her a good sixty seconds before I started after her.

I’d already dismissed Bran. He’d hit it off with some teacher and wanted to go and flirt with her some more. He was useful for herding Sofia in the right direction, and of course, terrifying her, but now I needed him gone. No one would get to see Sofia bare and begging except me.

The back of the school opened out into dense woods. They were the ones I’d already chased her through a few days ago, when she’d run right into the arms of the ice hockey players who had been sneaking off school grounds. One of them had been overly interested in my little lastochka. He might need to play a little one on one, with his head as the puck, to understand. No one touched Sofia, Ms. Rossi, or whatever it was she was called here. No one except me.

I entered the woods. It was quiet, but there was a slight rustle straight ahead.

Sticking to the path, prom queen? It was like she wanted to get caught.

The smell of the woods filled my head, comforting and new at the same time. It wasn’t the same scent as the woods of my childhood. The underlying salt of the nearby ocean and the different plants and even the soil all made things a little different. I caught a glimpse of her in her shiny, pale-pink dress. I discarded my mask, sick of the way it fogged up my breath. I wanted to feel the forest air on my skin.

Sofia was different, too. The woman running ahead of me wasn’t the same one who’d run from me seven long years ago. The first time she’d run through the woods from me, my little insurance policy, trying to get away and be a good girl for her daddy, I had only felt want for her, not anger.

Sure, she’d allowed her father to enter into talks of an arranged marriage with my brother, but we’d both known there was no chance of it happening. That was the only thing I could possibly have been angry at her for. I wasn’t angry at her for scarring my face when we were both younger, or for running away when she was supposed to be my insurance. I wasn’t even mad at her for slipping that fateful message to the trucker who had brought the De Sanctis family down on us, and started my long incarceration in Casa Nera, and then, as fate would have it, prison.

None of that mattered now. None of it compared to the white-hot anger her betrayal had bred. She’d broken not only my heart but my mind.

She zigzagged through the trees ahead of me on the trail. I could catch her easily, but it seemed wise to run off a little of my energy, and hers. I wanted her panting and spent when I finally ran her down. I wanted her to tremble.

The truths were too hard to swallow, but seeing her alive, unharmed, smiling with her students, driving to work, living her little life, had forced them down my throat.

She rounded a bend and disappeared. I charged after her. Once around the bend, I slid to a stop. The trail before me was empty, when it shouldn’t be. She’d veered off the path.

“Sofia? Lastochka, I told you to run, not hide, you had better odds that way,” I called to the dark woods around us. It was too damn dark to follow her trail.

Instead, I closed my eyes and focused on the sounds of the forest and the smell of Sofia. I could make out her perfume in the air, faint as it was. It was a scent I’d dreamed about every single night for seven years. I’d never forget it. She hadn’t changed it, I was relieved to replace out. Breathing deeply, pulling her scent into my lungs, I listened.

There was a faint rustling to the left, something small and uncaring about human presence. An animal of some kind. In the other direction, there was a slower, more careful sound, like someone trying very hard not to be heard.

I lunged to the right, startling Sofia into crying out. My body slammed into hers just as she attempted to stand, and we both tipped to the pine-needled ground.

“Got you, little swallow,” I breathed against her temple as I wrestled her writhing body onto her back.

She arched her chest forward as I grabbed her hands and pulled them above her head. Straddling her thighs, I felt alive in a way I hadn’t in years. Maybe it was the chase, maybe it was just her, but my blood was pounding in my veins, and that odd sense of unreality felt better here. Everything felt more real again, just touching the woman pinned beneath me.

Like always, when it came to Sofia, she was the poison and the cure.

“Niko,” she breathed, just as one of my hands fell to her neck, so prettily framed by her new hair.

I surrounded it with my palm, pressing firmly in, restricting her breathing a little, so her eyes grew wide. Those dark-brown orbs never left me. I released her hands just long enough to pull a tie from my pocket.

I bound her hands before she could realize my intention.

“Why are you doing this? If you want to hurt me, just hurt me, don’t play all these games.”

“If you knew how I felt inside, you wouldn’t say that,” I warned her.

She swallowed hard. She wasn’t fighting me. Why wasn’t she fighting me?

“I’m already holding back,” I muttered. The dizzying fun house inside me came screeching to a halt when she spoke.

“Stop then. Don’t hold back.”

Her soft murmur crept under my skin. The silence inside me was deafening. She had surprised me. I wouldn’t have thought that was possible anymore, given the level of fucked up my head was at these days, but she had.

“Do what you want. I won’t fight you.”

I looked down at her, my perfect, precious little swallow. She should be scared. She should be beaten. She wasn’t, though. Even lying on the forest floor, her fine dress rumpled, her hair wild, hands bound over her head, she wasn’t. She met my eyes with unflinching strength.

“Do your worst. That’s what you’ve always done. I can take it.” She wet her lips, and the movement nearly undid me. “I deserve it, after all.”

A bitter chuckle left me as I reached for her knife, which she’d carelessly dropped next to her on the dirt.

“If you think that hint of self-awareness will get you mercy…” I started.

“I don’t. I don’t want mercy from you. We’ve always been honest with each other, haven’t we? I broke that promise. Punish me.”

She continued to stare at me, uncowed by my threats. The silence inside me continued. For the first time in seven years, the chaos was quiet. Because of her.

“You’ll regret asking for that, prom queen. I’m not the man you knew.”

“I already regret so much, what’s one more thing?” She arched her back, and her tits threatened to pop out of the satin neckline of her gown.

I lowered my hand to her chest, sliding it down in that valley. She still had perfect tits.

My hands moved to her ribs, and I tugged her bra down with one swift pull. She arched her back into me again as my hands brushed over her tits.

I pinched her nipples softly, and she gave a soft moan.

“Don’t.” My warning was like a whip. Her eyes flew to mine.

“Don’t, or I’ll gag you.” I couldn’t take the sound of her sweet pleasure.

I knew my control was ragged at best. It had been seven years of nothing but my hand and memories of this woman. The blow job the other day had only further loosened my self-control, which was already a tattered thing. One more rip, and it would fall to pieces.

I moved her knife to the edge of her dress, and her eyes widened. The moonlight caught on the blade as I cut. The thin material parted under the sharp edge of the knife as well. She was still as I cut the top of her dress, barely daring to breathe, it seemed. The sash I worked down to her waist. I had no idea she still owned that damn thing. I’d never forget the first time I’d seen her in it. It felt like it had all happened in another life.

I spread open the sides of her dress and let my eyes feast on her chest. Her skin looked darker in the dim light and from her coastal lifestyle. I wondered if she went to the beach often. I wondered if she went with other men. Men like Edward Sloane. I’d nearly jumped the fence when they’d had lunch together the other day and slit his throat right there at the table. I had managed not to, but that didn’t mean I was going to let him live. He coveted what was mine. His days were numbered.

Dark possession filled my chest as I lowered the knife to her sternum. She was so still, I imagined I could hear her heart pounding. I could certainly hear my own.

“Are you scared, lastochka? Between us, you’re still the only one who’s ever cut me in anger.” I trailed the knife down her chest, between her glorious breasts, and slid it beneath the lacey fastening of her bra. It opened in the front. How fun.

The knife cut hard through the fastening, until the bra sagged apart. Her dark eyes glittered up at me. Running the blade across one perfect slope, I reached her nipple. I could feel her fear. It was delicious. Still, she didn’t try to push me away or beg me to stop. She was resigned to her fate. Maybe I was simply living up to her expectations of me. I didn’t care. I was too far gone to care.

“Are you scared I’m going to cut you? Or touch you?” I wondered aloud, undecided as to which. “Maybe my touch was always abhorrent to you, even more than a cut, but you needed me to get away from your father.” The thought had plagued me since I’d found out she was alive.

She frowned, a delicate line running between her elegant eyebrows. She shook her head, her eyes fixed on me. Disagreement. It stirred something in me.

“You’re still the only man I’ve ever been with. The only man I’ve ever wanted to be with.”

Her soft words felt like claws, sinking into unprotected skin. I stared at her. That damn storm that lived in my chest only calmed further at her words. The beast was satisfied with its possession of this woman. The only one I’d ever wanted.

I set the knife aside and leaned forward, unable to wait one more second to taste her.

My mouth closed around her hard nipple, already proudly sitting upright like a little rosebud in the cool night air. I sucked it between my teeth and rolled it against my hot, wet tongue. She shivered; her skin prickled beneath my hands. I gripped her other tit with my fist, hefting it, squeezing it, thumbing the nipple, while I feasted with my mouth. Moving higher, I sucked a dark bruising love kiss against her collarbone, and then another, a chain of them.

“Have fun covering these up for school, let those fuckers with hard-ons and lingering eyes know… your owner has returned,” I murmured against her skin, dragging my stubbled mouth back and forth, then landing on her other tit.

She moaned, a sweet sound, and I clamped a hand over her lips.

I moved my hands to my jeans and pulled myself free, my cock angry with pent-up desire. It nearly hurt when I pumped my palm up and down, the dry friction burning. I didn’t mind the pain. I welcomed it. My life had given me nothing but pain, and it had become my most faithful companion.

It had never deserted me, unlike the stunning woman moaning beneath me.

I pulled one of her nipples between my teeth and lightly bit down. She gasped, her hips desperately bumping upward to meet mine. Sofia wanted to be fucked like this, tied up and gagged on the forest floor… by me.

I didn’t know how that made me feel, only that this was supposed to be the start of her punishment, not fun.

I bit harder around her nipple, nipping the sensitive skin, and moved my hand faster on my cock. Releasing her tit with a pop, I let my other hand fall away and leaned back. She made a beautiful sight, lying on the ground, hands bound, her bare chest red and well-sucked, nipples puffy and desperate for more. Leaning up on my knees, I pushed her dress up until her black lace panties were on full display. Reaching out a finger, I stroked it down her middle.

She was soaking wet.

“You’re sodden for me, prom queen? You want me that badly?”

She stared at me, unabashed. Then she nodded.

“You want the man who contemplated burying you alive last night?”

She took a shuddering breath. “I’m just being honest.”

“How novel for you.”

I reached for her panties, using the knife again.

I felt my release barreling down on me, just at the very sight of her eyes on my cock. She didn’t look nearly scared enough. Something about the want in her eyes undid me. I shouldn’t have seen it. I should have blindfolded her, too, but as it was, I couldn’t avoid it.

I tore off her panties and cast them aside. Prowling across her, it hurt how much I needed to be inside her. I pressed her legs apart, pushing roughly between the cradle of her thighs. My cock brushed against her wet heat. I slipped my hands beneath her hips, raising her just enough to press inside. I wasn’t gentle. I gave her no escape. Maybe my roughness would make her push me away. Or maybe she would change her mind about wanting me.

She did neither. My deceitful little prom queen opened her arms and pulled me closer. Her surrender threatened the remaining shred of my sanity. She clung to me, brought her hips up to meet my ruthless thrusts, matching my desire at every turn. Her hands pulled at me, her lips pressed against my neck and up my throat, scattering kisses along my jaw. If she was trying to undo me, it was working.

I was going to come, I couldn’t last. Not when she was kissing me so sweetly, apologizing in tiny, silent ways with every move. She was still my little swallow, and now, she sat in the palm of my hand, waiting for me to crush her, if I wanted.

I didn’t want to. I never had. I could only ever love her. I didn’t know how to do anything else.

The pace increased between us, and the wet slap of our bodies meeting sounded obscene in the night air. There was something primal about fucking her there on the forest floor, against the dried leaves and pine needles. There, in the woods, where I’d always found comfort, I found her again. My lastochka, welcoming me with open arms, no matter the pieces we’d torn from each other.

She cried out first, her pussy clamping tightly around my cock, her entire body clenching. I kissed her roughly through it, swallowing the sounds of her pleasure. I wanted it all for myself. I needed it. She came endlessly, tightening with pulses and flutters so strong, it sent me over the edge. Following her, I came with a silent growl, stuffing my cock as deep as I could inside her, streaking her insides with my cum, filling her right up. She brought a hand to my cheek, pressing a sweet kiss to my forehead. A flash on her finger forced my brain back to life. She never had explained it.

“Whose fucking ring are you wearing while your tight, needy pussy sucks up my cum?” My voice was harsh. I was surprised I could speak through the orgasm I’d just had. After seven years of denying myself, I was surprised I could do anything at all.

Her cheeks flushed. “I don’t want to be hit on.”

“It’s just a disguise, then?” My cum was welling out of her hole. I watched it, fascinated. It felt wrong to see it seeping out. My dick was still hard. It would probably take a year of fucking her to take the edge off and make up for lost time. I had no problem with that, but Sofia might. Too bad she didn’t have a choice. “You still think I can’t tell when you’re lying, prom queen?” I pushed myself back inside her, my hard cock gliding through the cum inside her cunt.

She gasped. Her pussy was still twitching inside.

“I’m not lying.”

I pulled out after a few thrusts and slid to the side. A little rearrangement, and I had my wet dick poised at her mouth.

“There was a time I would have believed that.” I rubbed the dripping tip of myself against her lips until they were shiny with both our juices. “Now, I can’t trust this mouth more than this. Lick me clean.”

I gripped her chin with firm fingers. She held my eyes with hers as she slowly opened her lips and licked the head of me, before taking me inside the hot cavern of her mouth. Fuck. It felt unbelievable to be touched by her. A woman who had been my obsession since the first night we’d met, when she was a sheltered Mafia princess, all of seventeen. As she polished my dick with her tongue, I realized I could come again. I leaned forward, trapping her head and forcing my cock further inside. She welcomed me in, her eyes on me, widening her jaw as far as could to take me. Skull-fucking her into the forest floor hadn’t been the plan, but she was sucking me off so well, I couldn’t hold back. I fucked her face, my tip hitting the back of her throat. She had nowhere to go. The sound of her soft gagging nearly undid me.

I pressed deep and let her work me with her tongue. She quickly tipped me over the edge with her eager sucking. I pulled out, wanting to see visible evidence of my possession of her. Kneeling over her prone body, I came hard, long ribbons of cum striping her bare tits, all the way up her neck. One particularly urgent jet hit her chin, dripping across her parted lips. I came for a long time, the pulsing of my balls feeling endless as I marked her with my cum.

If the sight of her before had been hot, the image of her covered in my cum, her tits shiny with my possession, seared itself permanently in my brain.

I stood on legs that were none too steady and tucked my half-spent cock away. I stepped away from her and collected myself. The knife was still on the ground beside her, and I kicked it closer to her now. I crouched beside her. She was watching me with an unreadable look.

I couldn’t stop myself from smoothing the backs of my fingers down her smooth cheek.

“You didn’t go to the cops. It was your last chance.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“I guess, in the end, we’re still made for each other, lastochka. Be a good girl. I’m watching. From now on, just assume I’m watching.”

I reached for her hands, bringing the left one to my lips and enveloping her ring finger in my mouth before she could pull away. I closed my teeth around her wedding band and slid it off slowly. I took it from my mouth and tucked it into my pocket. Finding the knife again, I pressed it into her bound hands.

Her eyes were stuck on me, like she was scared that if she looked away, I’d disappear. I could understand that fear. I had the same one.

Tearing my eyes from the perfect sight of her, I turned and walked away.