The Mafia Devil’s Contractual Wifelg...
“He came for a debt. Instead, he took a bride.”
Alina Moretti lost everything in one night—her fiancé, her fortune, her future. Desperate to secure her inheritance, she needs a fake fiancé.
When she approaches Milan’s most dangerous club, hoping to find a willing stranger, she instead finds herself kidnapped by the devil himself.
Valentino Romano, popularly known as The Devil of Milan, is the ruthless heir to Italy’s most feared mafia empire.
Two years ago, Alina’s father borrowed from him, promising a repayment that never came.
Now, Val is back, and he’s not interested in money.
He wants her.
*****
I glared at him, swallowing back the tremor in my throat.
“One day, I’ll make you pay for everything.”
His smirk didn’t waver. If anything, it deepened.
“Then I’ll make sure you stay alive long enough to try.”
His free hand ripped the flimsy red lace from my body like it was paper. I arched, trying to twist away, but his weight pinned me, all hard muscle and coiled rage. The scars on his chest brushed against my nipples, rough and deliberate, and I hated how my body betrayed me with a traitorous shudder.
“Look at you,” he purred, dragging his knuckles down my stomach.
“Trembling… Is it fear… or are you wet for the man who got your nonna killed?” He taunted, his smile mocking.
*
*
“I’ll kill you—”
“I can’t wait, amore mio [my love],” he growled, and without warning, his hand slid between my legs.
I jolted.
“Don’t—!”
Too late.
One thick finger pushed inside me, hard. I sobbed, my back bowing off the bed, but he only chuckled, working me open with slow, cruel, torturous strokes.
“Tighter than I thought,” he mused, a cruel smirk curling on his annoyingly handsome face.
“Did your little ex not know how to stretch this pretty little cuntt?”
I kicked wildly, but his other hand clamped down on my hip, his nails nearly drawing blood.
“Keep fighting,” he dared me, adding a second finger. The stretch burned. “It’ll hurt worse when I split you open on my c*ck.”
The crude words sent a shock through me. My thighs shook, torn between clamping shut and kicking him into hell.
His thumb found my clit, circling it slowly, tauntingly. A low hiss escaped my lips.
“Devil.”
He chuckled, low and wicked. “You keep saying that.” His fingers slid lower, through my slick, and my breath hitched.
“Yet here you are,” he murmured, “dripping for the devil.”lg...
Romance
Create
