Tempted by Deception: A Dark Marriage Mafia Romance (Deception Trilogy Book 2)
Tempted by Deception: Chapter 8

I lie in bed in nothing but my leotard that’s unsnapped at my most intimate part.

Adrian watches me, mechanically at first, as if he has no interest in what he sees. As if I’m a mere object that’s landed in his path.

But if that were the case, why would he want me? Why is he insistent on taking me?

“Do you do this to everyone who witnesses you killing?” I ask to dispel the tension that’s brewing in the air and slamming against my chest.

“This?” His gaze slides to my face for a brief second.

“You know.”

“Are you too much of a prude to name it, Lia?”

“Fucking,” I mutter. “I’m not too much of a prude to speak up when necessary.”

“I’m not fucking you, though.”

“Then what do you plan to do?”

“Something similar.”

“Do you do something similar to fucking with everyone who witnesses your murders?”

“No. I kill them.”

My throat closes at his apathetic tone. He really has no regard for human life, does he? He must think of everyone as collateral pieces of a chessboard that he can get rid of as he sees fit.

He hooks his fingers on the décolletage of my top and pulls it down in one swift go, revealing my naked breasts.

I’m breathing heavily, my fists clenching into the mattress on either side of me. He reaches a large hand toward me, a hand that can throttle me or snap me in two.

I don’t think as I grab it, my smaller palms cradling his in a desperate attempt to stop him from acting on his objective.

It could be because of the feral way he’s staring at my breasts. I don’t like it. But what I dislike the most is how my nipples have instantly peaked into tight buds under his merciless gaze.

Adrian raises a brow but doesn’t force me to let him go, even though he could overpower me in a beat. My hands are wrapped around his, keeping them an inch away from my skin. As we watch each other in a dance of back and forth, I don’t know if I’m fighting him or myself.

Or maybe I’m fighting my terrifying reaction to him. He’s not touching me, but his warmth is creeping under my skin. He’s merely looking at my breasts, but he elicited a shudder from my bones. One that I don’t want to acknowledge, but it’s there, tucked between my heart and ribcage.

All I can think about is how I came while he stroked my nipples over my leotard or how I dreamt about him plunging inside me with increasing roughness.

I don’t want to know what will happen if he actually touches me. That thought is like acid on my nerves—melting, paralyzing, and damn frightening.

But at the same time, I want all of this to end, and the more I deny him, the longer I’ll have to suffer.

With a deep breath, I release his hand, letting my arms fall to my sides.

His long, masculine fingers wrap around a taut nipple and twist, gently at first, then harshly with the intent to hurt. I inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth to keep from feeling it.

But it’s pointless.

My nipples send a zap of pleasure straight to my core. It’s so strong that my entire body feels it. My every nerve ending comes alive under his ministrations and there’s no way to stop the assault, even if I wanted to. It doesn’t help that my nipples are sensitive, prone to easy stimulation.

I’ve always liked nipple play, but have hardly gotten any because of my small breasts. However, Adrian doesn’t seem to care. He’s stimulating them in a maddening way, as if he’s been touching them for a lifetime.

“Was that a little rebellion just now, Lia?” He pinches both nipples hard and I arch off the bed, yelping.

“Mmm…”

“That’s not an answer.”

I shake my head.

“Use your words.” His voice, although low, is firm and controlled with no room to be disobeyed.

“N-no.”

He twists again, more forcefully this time, as if he’s planning to break the skin, and I release an anguished cry mixed with a moan. “I said not to lie to me. Another strike and I’ll have to deal with your disobedience.”

“Yes, yes…ahhh…” I whimper when he massages the aching nipples with the pads of his thumbs.

His message is clear. If I obey him, I’ll be rewarded. If I don’t, he’ll make sure I suffer.

He continues twisting and pinching my nipples, then runs the pad of his thumb over the tips as if soothing them, giving them a slight reprieve before he goes back to torturing them again.

I’m so stimulated that I think I’ll orgasm with just nipple play. It’d be a first, and for some reason, I believe he’d be able to do it. My core throbs with bursts of arousal that match the rhythm of his fingers. Sometimes hard and fast, other times slow and agonizing.

He releases my left breast and it aches, tingling with the loss of his fingers.

Adrian lifts the leotard up to my stomach, tracing his fingers along my belly. I flinch, a whole body shiver going through me.

“Are you always this sensitive?”

I purse my lips and he flattens his palm on my stomach, pinching my nipple hard. “Ahh…that hurts.”

“Then it’d be best to answer me when I ask a question.”

“No,” I whisper.

A feral gleam takes refuge in his stormy gray eyes. “No one’s touched you properly to make you sensitive?”

“I’m not a virgin…ahhh…” I moan when he runs the tip of his thumb over the aching peak.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” His tone hardens and so does his touch, as if his mood has soured. “If I wanted to know about the loser who tore through your cunt and soaked his dick with your virginal blood, I would’ve found out and taught him how to truly touch you. Though I’d probably kill him soon after since…well, you know how I feel about witnesses. So tell me, Lia, has anyone touched you properly before? Has anyone pushed your buttons the way you wish?”

I’m shivering and flat out trembling, both at the threat behind his words and the calm in them. My thighs rub against each other due to the unfathomable effect he’s having on me.

When I speak, my voice is barely audible through my moan, “No.”

“But you wished for it, didn’t you? When they were handling you gently like a porcelain doll, you wished for the roughness, for the sting of pain.”

I shake my head violently against the pillow, mortification eating at my insides.

He pinches my nipple hard enough to elicit a whimper of pain. “What did I say about lying to me?”

“I’m not sick like you,” I manage between throaty sounds.

“Oh, but you are.” He trails his hand downward and cups my most intimate part. “Mmm. You’re soaked, Lenochka.”

Heat rises to my ears and I turn my head, trying to hide my face and my utter shame in the pillow.

“Look at me.”

I don’t, refusing to let him see parts of me he has no business seeing.

Adrian twists my nipple at the same time as he runs two fingers through my folds. “I said, look at me.”

The pure authority in his tone, coupled with the pleasure and pain, make me peek at him, lips parted in a wordless cry—or a scream. I have no clue which sound will come out if I let it loose.

“You don’t hide from me when I’m touching you, Lia.”

“I’m not…ahhh…” My voice ends on a whimper-moan when he shoves those two fingers inside me.

“Don’t finish that lie.”

“Mmm…” My back arches off the bed at the sensation of being filled by him. It’s been a long time since I was touched this intimately. Though I’m not simply being touched now; I’m being completely and utterly owned. Just like when he kissed me, Adrian holds me to him by an invisible thread. He’s pulling on it, tugging and dragging me to his side as if I’m a marionette doll.

“You’re so fucking tight. Do you feel your walls clenching around my fingers?”

I want to look away from the controlled lust shining in his eyes, but I can’t. And it’s not only because of his command. Something in me unlocked when his fingers went inside me. It’s feral and harsh and out of control. It’s as unforgiving as the marionette strings pulling me along with no clear direction or landing site.

I’m falling into that web; I can feel the strings digging into my skin, sinking deep with each of his merciless pounds.

He thrusts into me and I moan. He pinches my nipple and I gasp.

The rhythm is overwhelming, savage, but not messy. It’s measured and with clear intent. Just like everything about Adrian.

He twists my nipples over and over again as he powers into my pussy. The heel of his palm slaps against my clit with every move and I see white stars.

“Do you hear your arousal, Lenochka? Do you hear how much you crave this? How your body is coming undone?” He rams his fingers in a few more times, as if driving the point home. I should be ashamed by the sound of my pleasure, the sound of his palm hitting my clit at an increasing pace.

But I rise to it. My back pushes off the mattress, meeting his fingers on my nipples and inside me.

My heart is nearly breaking out of my skin to match his rhythm, to somehow be equal in this fucked-up situation.

Somewhere in my brain, I know this is wrong. I know I shouldn’t be trying to reach that peak, but that part is buried too deep to float to the surface.

Adrian rubs the heel of his palm against my clit while twisting my nipple and curling his fingers inside my tight walls.

The triple assault undoes me.

I cry out as I embrace the fall. I don’t shy away from it as I let my voice express the ecstasy hitting me from all possible directions.

“Ahhh…I’m…I’m…ahhh!” My mouth remains open as a halo submerges me and transports me in an out-of-body experience. It’s like I’m flying through the roof and watching myself tremble in Adrian’s hold. His fingers are inside me, all over me, and I raise my hips so I can ride the wave.

Ride him.

I think I’ll remain suspended like this for eternity. Maybe I’ve died and my soul is looking down at my body. The body that’s caught in a web with no way out.

But Adrian wrenches me back to the land of the living when he pulls his fingers from me and places them at my mouth.

“Suck them clean.”

“W-what?”

“You heard me.”

“But— Mmm…” My words are interrupted when he shoves his fingers inside my mouth. The same fingers that were just in me. The same fingers that he brought me pleasure with.

My face burns with shame. Not only at tasting myself but also at how much of my arousal there is. How much I let go when it should’ve been the last thing I’d do in his company.

“Move your tongue, Lia.” His tone is tender but with a firm edge meant to be obeyed.

I lap at his fingers, my face burning and my thighs clenching. The orgasm I just had doesn’t seem to have finished. It rises to the surface, probing and holding on to the belief that there will be something else. Something more intense. Something that will keep me in that suspended halo longer.

A halo where I don’t have to think about anything. A halo where I can only feel.

Adrian’s penetrating gray eyes never leave mine as I slowly lick his fingers, curling my tongue around them. They’re a work of art and are as masculine and lean as they look.

“Do you feel your abandon, Lenochka? Do you now see why you can’t lie to me?”

I continue licking and sucking because, even though it started as an order, a part of me is perversely enjoying this act. And that part wants more of it.

And him.

Adrian pulls his fingers out and I release them with a pop, a line of saliva sticking to them. He then proceeds to use them to part my lips.

The gesture is more possessive than anything he’s just done. More than the orgasm or the nipple play. More than his orders and his non-negotiable demands.

“Answer me.”

“Y-yes…”

He glides his thumb across my bottom lip before mashing it against my teeth. A strange look passes over his features. It’s fleeting but manages to send a shudder through my bones.

I expect him to thrust his fingers back inside my mouth or climb atop me and fuck me. But he releases my nipple and mouth at the same time, then slides the duvet up to cover me.

I watch with utter bewilderment as he heads to the chair, grabs his coat, and walks out.

I remain there, motionless, my body and heart on high alert until I hear the soft click of the front door.

Did he…leave?

I stay still for a few minutes, thinking that it must be a distasteful joke. That he will come back and either finish what he started or tell me what the hell he’s planning.

He doesn’t return.

I should be feeling relieved, and I am—I finally got rid of the asshole.

And yet, the marionette strings tighten at my nape and an empty sound echoes in my chest.