Captive Bride: A Mafia Romance (The Dirty Kings of Vegas Book 3)

by Frankie Love

  Chapter Five

  John

  Her arms and legs fling tight around me, and she clamps her teeth into my shoulder.

  She’s beautiful. I could not have asked for more. Heaving, wet-eyed, soft beneath me, she’s bouncy like a wet dream come true.

  The walls of her tight pussy cling and tremble around me, hot as my hard cock rips them apart. Only a virgin could be this tight. And only a virgin could be so shocked and surprised. No man has ever had a better wedding present.

  She smells fantastic, and she makes lovely mewling and whimpering sounds as I pole her harder and stretch her wider.

  Time after time, I have to hold back from coming, just so I can watch her tremble and shake as she goes over again.

  Finally, I sit back on my haunches so I can watch her as she writhes and squirms. My fat cock divides her wet pink lips. I pull the top of her hood with my thumb and make her stomach roll.

  Her fabulous tits bounce and I grip her ass in both hands.

  And that’s it. No stopping now.

  Her thighs shake and her fingers and toes curl. Her back stretches and her head thrashes from side to side. I let go and explode into her. My balls hose out for longer than ever.

  Right now I must be the happiest man in Vegas. Maybe the world.

  I hold her in my arms as we doze. In the middle of the night, we wake up to talk. I pour some champagne for us both. It’s not my kind of drink, but I’d do anything for Kiera right now.

  She snuggles into me as we chat.

  “I love to read,” she tells me. “I read all the Game of Thrones books. The TV series is candy floss, honestly.”

  “They’re big fat fuckers of books, though. It would take me years to get through any of them.”

  “It’s true, John. It might take you a while to get started. But once you get going, it pulls you in. It speeds up a lot.”

  “Oh, I know something else that goes like that.”

  In the morning, I’m dressed before she’s awake.

  When her eyes flicker open, I stroke her forehead. “You are beautiful.”

  She blinks and smiles. “Are we going somewhere?”

  “I’m going to work. Dad will be by later, and he’ll take you to the house. I think you’re going to love it.”

  She says, “No honeymoon?”

  “I have business today.”

  “Today?” she frowns. “And probably every other day too.” She looks sad in a way that makes my heart ache.

  “You’re my wife. I expect you to support my work. I don’t want you to make me feel bad.”

  Her eyes are shining wet. “I’m sorry.”

  Chapter Six

  Kiera

  It’s been four weeks. The new house will be spectacular when everything is finished. I guess. He told me, “Order whatever you want. Decorate it your own way. It’s our house.” He said, “Make it whatever you want it to be.”

  I want it to have my wonderful, sexy husband in it. If I can’t have that, I don’t care what color the walls are.

  John’s sister Mary is married to Connor Boyne, the O’Malleys’ underboss. She showed up at my door with a bright smile shortly after the wedding and said, “Just thought I’d drop by for a coffee.” We became fast friends and we’ve made the coffee a habit ever since.

  Mary always looks like she’s come straight out of a beauty salon, in Donna Karan or Stella McCartney, with her red hair just perfect and a glow on her skin. Just around her eyes, though, you’d wonder if she had a dust-up with a hedge on the way over.

  But I don’t know anything about her life. I’m not judging her.

  I make coffee for us and as soon as we sit at the breakfast bar, she says, “You’re looking tense, darling. Is everything all right?”

  Everything bubbles to the surface. I’m trying to hold back, but I spill it all. “I remember how thrilled I was the moment I first saw him, how amazing that night was. Then, the next morning, he just grunted at me over breakfast. Now he goes out in the morning, and he doesn’t come back until late. When he’s here, he hardly talks to me at all.”

  With a sad look in her eyes, she reaches across the kitchen island to touch my hand. “You’ll need to make some adaptations, darling. Look, your lovely home’s coming along nicely. I’ll tell you this,” she leans forward and lowers her voice, “everybody’s envious of this house. Three pools, no less.” She twinkles with admiration.

  It’s true that we have three pools. There’s the big one by the patio at the back, the indoor pool in the basement, and the infinity pool upstairs, outside the master bedroom. I know everyone is jealous of that one. And the desert views are stunning, especially at sunset.

  “I’m the oldest sister in the family,” Mary tells me with a weary smile. “Without Mam, I guess I’m the default family mother.” She gives my hand an encouraging squeeze. “You should feel free to confide in me.”

  I’m annoyed with myself, letting my complaints out in front of John’s sister. What I said is pretty minor. Every wife I’ve ever known has had a stream of trouble that ran below the surface. It’s life. It’s okay, but I shouldn’t let off steam in front of his family. Especially not his eldest sister.

  She gets the bit between her teeth. “You have to understand, Kiera. That’s what John is like. His work is what comes first. He’s dedicated to building the family business, and providing for his family.” She smiles. “That’s you, love. And I’m sure pretty soon, there will be more of you.”

  She touches my hand. “Being married isn’t what he wanted, but he’ll get used to the idea of it. We should have you and John over for dinner,” she tells me. Given that John is never home, and I’m pretty sure Connor is the same way, I can’t see how that’s ever going to happen. Then she adds, “And stop by whenever you like, Kiera. We can go shopping. Share our troubles, watch TV, anything you want.”

  It’s hard to see how that would work, either. Mary has three children under six years old. Come to think of it, did she get childcare so she could ‘drop by’?

  I feel like I spend most of my life in this kitchen and I’m anxious to get out of it now. It’s the only part of the house that feels close to being finished.

  I’m almost desperate for a change of air. I take hold of her hand and lead her upstairs to the deck with the infinity pool.

  “That big light fitting in the bedroom, Mary,” I say, standing on the deck with her, looking in through the big bedroom windows. “It’s too much, isn’t it? Concealed lighting would be better in there. And the colors would be better if they were paler, don’t you think? They’d let the view light the room more.” I look into her eyes. “What do you think, Mary?”

  She’s thoughtful. And uncomfortable.

  “Oh,” I say, “while you’re here, do feel free to take a dip in the pool. I can fix us drinks or whatever you would like.”

  She shifts awkwardly. Instinctively holding back. That’s it, Mary, I think. If you try to step into my married life, you’d better to be ready to do it on my terms. You may be eight years older than me, but I’m nobody’s fool.

  Soon, Mary remembers errands she needs to run. After hugs and kisses, she leaves with promises of girls’ nights out and ‘sisterly solidarity.’

  She’s family. My family, now. So I’m going to love her. We’ll be part of each other's lives, and I’ll find a way for us to be close. I’ve got no idea how I’m going to make that work, but I will.

  I don’t see myself sinking into a couch with Mary, goggle-eyed at afternoon soaps and sloshing cocktails. Not any more than I see myself becoming a full-time amateur interior designer. I don’t want a life of chocolate-and-ice-cream-eating marathons, either, however much I love chocolate and ice cream.

  I’m relieved that Mary has left, but I feel empty and alone.

  Chapter Seven

  Kiera

  I don’t think of myself as a beauty, but John’s absence and his moods could qualify him to be the Beast.

  He arrives home even la
ter than usual tonight. A scent of stale alcohol follows him in, and in the glimpse I see of him, I catch sight of blood on his shirt.

  I don’t jump up and run to him. I do that every night and I mean tonight to be different. Wearing a thin, silky dress, I wait on the patio for him to find me.

  I have a bottle of his favorite Scotch, an ice bucket, and crystal tumblers waiting.

  He comes to me. When he takes me in his arms, I nearly lose focus. I have thought this through, though.

  We kiss and I know it’s all going to be all right. I pull back a moment early and fix him a drink. Then I pour one for myself. That surprises him.

  We clink glasses, and I look in his eyes.

  “There’s something I have to tell you, John.”

  He looks hard back at me.

  With a breezy smile, I say, “But I’m starving.”

  He says, “Wait…”

  “I’ll bring out some nibbles, John. I’ll just be a moment.”

  John loves savories. I bought some spicy little Spanish sausages and soaked and broiled them in a red wine sauce. To go with them, I got small potato and ham croquettes to heat up. A bakery I found delivers parbaked bread, ready to finish in the oven. I set it all out with some olives and cheese.

  John follows me out to the kitchen while I’m arranging the tray. Damn, he is so handsome.

  I scurry over and kiss him. “Could you take the tray out to the patio?”

  “What is it you have to tell me, Kiera? You’re making me nervous.”

  I hand him the tray. “It’s nothing to worry about, John.”

  “Now I really am worried.”

  I follow him back to the patio. He sets the tray down and I ask him if he likes the sausages. He’s impatient. But he can’t resist nibbling on a tiny croquette.

  I pull my chair close to his and turn it so we can see each other's faces.

  And I start.

  “I was born into the life, John. It’s all I’ve ever known. I understand there’s a lot you won’t tell me, or can’t. But you don’t have to shut me out.”

  “You think you understand, Kiera, but I’m pretty sure you don’t.”

  “John, I’m going to tell you something. You have to swear to me that you’ll keep it in the strictest confidence.”

  His eyes narrow. “Of course…”

  “No, John.” I touch his hand. “The very strictest confidence. You can’t ever tell anyone. Not your dad, not your brothers or sisters, not anyone. Not ever.”

  He presses his lips together and takes in a slow breath. “Tell me.”

  “Promise me first.”

  He takes a moment. I think he’s not sure how to deal with me now. He says, “Okay. Whatever it is, I promise I won’t tell a soul. I’ll take it to the grave.”

  “I’m serious, John. I need to know that you mean it.” I keep eye contact with him. “I’m going to trust you with something huge.”

  “All right,” he says, “I swear to you, Kiera. I swear on my sister’s life.”

  “Thank you, John.” I lower my voice. “Papa’s consigliere got turned.”

  “What?” He sits bolt upright.

  I lift my fingers softly. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

  “How did it happen?”

  “The feds found some dirt.”

  “On a consigliere?”

  “No. Dooley was pure as the driven snow. Of course.”

  “So…?”

  “His wife, not so much. He cracked when they threatened his family.”

  John’s eyes narrow. I get in ahead of him. “I know. I’m not making excuses for him. What he did…” My nose wrinkles.

  I take a breath and go on. “There was damage, fallout. But it was contained. It’s all ancient history now. I’ll tell you the story sometime. That’s not why I’m telling you. The point is that I more or less acted as Papa’s consigliere for a couple of years after. He didn’t tell me any of the details of what was going on. But, right after it all happened with Dooley, he had to have someone he could trust.”

  Now I have his attention. I would give anything to keep this feeling that he’s really focused on me.

  “It wasn’t easy for him. Especially not at first. But he needed an ear. Someone he could just talk to. The damage Dooley did was only half of it. Papa had been used to talking through everything. All the things he was afraid of, all the things that he didn’t understand. All…”

  He lifts his chin. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Kiera…”

  “You don’t. I haven’t told you yet. Hear me out, John. I do understand your position. But here’s the thing: you need someone. As time goes on, it might not be me. It probably won’t. There’s a reason why consiglieres are often lawyers or accountants. Bosses understand the personal side of a situation, but not always the legal landscape or the economics.”

  I tell him, “I know you have a good grasp of all of that. But you might need an ear. Someone you can sound your thoughts against. Just to hear how they land.” He draws a breath. I lift my hand. “Wait… This is the part I need you to hear…”

  He closes his mouth, listens.

  “When I became my father’s consigliere, I had no special understanding of business or the law, and I didn’t know the personalities in the rival gangs. My expertise was different. Papa talked to me because he knew he could trust me above anyone. That’s what he lost when they took Dooley from him. He didn’t think there was anyone else. I was too young for the responsibility he gave me, but I took it seriously.”

  He frowns. “Are you still his consigliere? You can’t be, can you? You couldn’t be this far away from him.”

  “No, John, I’m not. Papa was happy with that arrangement, and I was happy. What little girl doesn’t want to share her papa’s deepest secrets? But he wanted me to be free and to have my own life. The point is, John, I know how these things work. You don’t have to bottle your feelings up. You don’t have to hide and sulk when you’ve had a tough day. If you want to lock yourself in a room with a bottle, or go to a club and tear it up with your guys, it’s all right. But you don’t have to be alone, and you don’t need to shut me out. Sometimes just knowing that can be enough.”

  I see his shoulders relax.

  “One day, you’ll be the head of the whole family. I’m sure you hope that day is a long way off. But John, you always need to be ready. And you need someone you can talk with. Someone you can trust absolutely and without question.” I lean forward. Stroke his brow. “You might need a confidant to help you shine a light on all that goes on. Whenever you need the ear of someone you can trust absolutely, I’m here.”

  He tightens up.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask him.

  “It’s nothing.” He’s gripping his hip, though.

  “Show me? Do you need a doctor?”

  “Nothing to see. It’s going to be fine.”

  I don’t press him for more because, honestly, I think I’ve already said more than enough.

  He spends most of the evening on the deck with his laptop. When I finally give up hoping he will come looking for me, I take a sip of Scotch. I’m getting a taste for it now. I call out from the living room.

  “I’m going up to bed now.”

  When he doesn’t reply, I toss the rest of the Scotch back. Then I splash some more in the tumbler to take upstairs with me.

  I turn, and he’s there. Huge, behind me. I gasp.

  His voice is a dark rumble. “Not just yet.”

  “Oh.”

  He takes a savage kiss. I can’t resist. I love his force and his strength so much.

  He spins me around. Bends me over the couch. Slides his hand up my thigh and into my already wet panties.

  “Mine,” he growls as he teases my clit and opens my pussy.

  Then I shout as his shaft splits me open. Inside, I cascade and gush, trembling as he drives me, rides me. He rips into me with a force like a hurricane. I grip the couch and shout his name. My insides spin
and implode, rising like a slow, heavy wave, hanging on a crest, suspended. He beats into me harder and I splash, shaking, quivering and whimpering his name.

  His pole slams into me, relentless and merciless, stretching me wider. My walls flutter, trying to hold him as he buries his cock high and deep. His balls slap against my clit and my mound.

  I come again and again as he grips my hips and slaps my ass and he pumps his hot juice into me.

  We’re both breathing hard. He stays inside me for too short a moment.

  “I really love you, John,” I tell him.

  I can’t hear his reply. It’s lost in a grunt. I can see that he’s in discomfort but before I can speak, he snarls, “I’m fine,” and he goes back out to the pool.

  Chapter Eight

  John

  It’s a hot morning. I’m waiting in the study of the main house in the center of the compound. Drago is due for a meet.

  This was my home until I married Kiera. Only Dad lives here now that all three brothers are married. The place feels quiet and slightly unreal. The ache in my gut comes and goes. I was too grumpy when Kiera said I should see a doctor. She cares about me, I know, but I hate any kind of a fuss. I step out of the office to get a coffee from the kitchen.

  Kiera is walking in the front door. What is she doing here?

  As soon as our eyes meet, she hurries into my arms, innocent and bouncy as ever. I can’t be annoyed with her.

  She kisses me. She says, “Your father told me about the library, so I came to find some books.”

  “I’m just waiting for a meet.” I don’t want to let her go.

  Then the front door opens again. Drago pauses in the doorway. He narrows his eyes and lowers his brow. “What’s she doing here?”