by Hamel, B. B.
My wedding night. I, Lucas Barone, had gotten fucking married. I chuckled to myself at the thought. Of course, the girl didn’t really think it was real, or maybe she did and she just didn’t care. But I had the marriage license to prove it.
That wedding, although cheesy and stupid, had been very real.
I was a little disappointed about how the night had ended, though. Natalie was fucking sexy, all cute and innocent-seeming but a fucking pro when you got under her panties. She’d been moaning my name and had come like a wave as soon as I’d gotten my fingers on her soaked little pussy. I had assumed she was good to go and wanted more.
But as soon as we finished the ceremony, she freaked, said she wanted to go home. I wasn’t the type to force a lady into anything, and I actually did have some respect for her, so I dropped her off as promised.
But fuck did I want her still. My cock was hard against the soft sheets as I thought about her body dancing against mine in the club.
I knew I wanted her the second I saw her. Those full lips looked like they were made to suck my cock, and I wanted to come deep down her throat.
The mere thought of that made me fucking crazy. I reached down beneath the sheets and began to stroke myself.
Natalie had no clue what she was missing. I could have fucked her sweet pussy for hours in my luxurious suit. I’d love to take every stitch of clothing from her body and watch her blush as I talked dirty in her ear.
I imagined letting her ride my face as I jerked myself off. After I got her nice and fucking wet, on the verge of coming again, I’d slide my cock deep into her slick cunt and fuck her so rough but slow.
I wanted her to beg for it, after all. When she finally came a second time, I wanted it to completely take over her body, make her have the shakes. My job wouldn’t be done until she came so hard she practically forgot her own name.
That would happen, like it always happened. I’d work her sweet fucking body over and over again, make her sweat, make her beg. She’d never been with a man like me before, insatiable, always fucking hard, and always ready to make her come.
I wanted to see that ass back up against my cock. I wanted her to beg me to finally come. She’d want me to fill her tight little pussy up.
Natalie seemed so fucking innocent, but she’d be my slut in the sheets. I felt myself getting close as I jerked my cock, thinking about fucking her hard from behind, slapping her thick ass, making her mine.
Finally, I finished, shooting my cum into a tissue.
Fucking tissues. That would have been much better if it were Natalie’s tight, warm little pussy.
I cleaned up and rolled out of bed, heading into the shower.
I had Natalie’s number, but why bother? She had made it clear that she wasn’t interested the night before. I wasn’t the type to give second chances, anyway. Plus, I had gotten what I needed out of her. No reason to push it any further.
I climbed into the shower, still thinking about the way she came in the back of the limo. Maybe I was missing out on something, too, if I never got a chance to fuck her.
But oh well. You couldn’t fix the past. You could only move forward.
Hours later, the Barone mansion was practically empty. It was about eight at night, and most of the guys had left already. Staff still lingered around, plus the usual armed guards, but they practically blended into the background.
I felt fucking good. Sure, I didn’t get to fuck Natalie, but who cared? There were plenty of other women in Chicago that I could sleep with. It wasn’t like I ever had a problem finding a willing and attractive partner to suck me off.
Best of all, I had my marriage license to shove in my father’s face. He’d be forced to back off based on his own absurd logic.
Just because he finally married one of his many whores didn’t mean we all needed to get married. He was simply obsolete, and I just needed to play along with his silly games for long enough to make my move and finally take control of the family.
I walked down the dimly-lit hallways, idly looking around. The Barone house was huge, three wings, three floors, and filled with all the gilding and opulence that came with having way too much fucking money.
We were old-school mafia. Maybe we didn’t call ourselves the mob anymore, or at least not openly, but we were. And we’d been one of the most successful families in history. We were definitely the oldest still-operating family left in the Chicago area, and we had control of the most profitable turf all throughout the city and the suburbs.
I didn’t necessarily have expensive taste, but I understood the reason for it.
We needed to exude power. And nothing said power like an absurd use of wealth. Everything about the Baron mansion screamed money, sex, and power.
I fully intended to uphold that tradition when I was in power.
My father’s study was in the east wing, second floor, all the way in the back. I stopped and knocked on the door.
“Enter,” I heard him call out.
I pushed open the door. “Evening, Father.”
“Lucas. To what do I owe the pleasure?” he said, distracted. He was looking at something on his desk and didn’t even bother to look up.
I shut the door behind me as I walked inside. I sat down in one of the armchairs and crossed my legs, relishing the moment.
“Nothing special,” I said. “Just thought I’d pay you a visit.”
“Good,” he mumbled. “Good. I’m glad you’re here.”
That had me curious. “Why?”
“Your stepmother and new stepsister are moving in tomorrow,” he said. “Have I told you about them?”
“You mentioned the new wife,” I said, annoyed. Had he already fucking forgotten our conversation?
He glanced up. “Yes, I did.” He paused. “Well, I expect you to be respectful of her as she is part of the family now. She has full privileges of the estate, as does your new stepsister.”
“Stepsister,” I said, laughing. “What’s she like?”
“Can’t say I know for sure,” he said. “Her name is Natalie. Cute girl, goes to college.” He grabbed his phone and pulled up a picture. “Here. This is her and her mother.”
My heart nearly fucking stopped in my chest as I took the phone from him.
Staring back at me was a picture of my wife.
The picture was probably a year or two old, but it was definitely her. I could hardly believe it. The Natalie I had met the night before certainly was nothing like her infamous mother. Where Camille Taylor was brash and loud, Natalie had been quiet and demure, almost shy.
“Lucas?” my father asked. “What’s wrong with you, boy?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly, handing the phone back to him.
The marriage license in my back pocket was suddenly like burning fire.
“So, what did you want to see me about?” he asked.
“Ah,” I said. “I wanted to check on the Carosi job.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You know that’s going fine.”
“Good,” I said, nodding. “Well. Have a good night.”
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked again. “You’re keeping something from me.”
I shook my head. “Still hungover, I guess. Just got back from Vegas.”
He made a face. “Still wasting my money, I see.”
“My money,” I said. “Every dime, I’ve earned.”
“Yes, well.” He went back to whatever he had been looking over before. “Be kind to your new stepsister.”
“Of course.” I paused, grinning. “She’s family now.”
I turned and left as quickly as I could. I walked down the hallway, turned a corner, and leaned up against a pillar.
Laughter erupted from my body violently. A nearby guard glanced in my direction like I had suddenly grown a second head.
What an absurd turn of events. My new stepsister was the same woman I had met in a club completely at random, and the same woman I had married to piss off my father.
&nbs
p; But I couldn’t tell him about it now. Not yet, at least. Maybe I could use it one day down the line, but right now it would be a waste.
Most important of all, though, was that Natalie was coming to live with us. In just a few hours, my stepsister, no, my wife was going to be staying in our home. I’d be able to see her whenever I wanted to.
“This is going to be a great summer,” I said to the guard.
“Of course, sir,” he mumbled.
I walked away, grinning madly.
Chapter Five: Natalie
Home again. Or at least what was left of it.
“Can you help me with this box, sweetie?”
I dropped my own bag onto the ground as my mother shoved a box into my arms.
“Good to see you too,” I said to her.
“Welcome home.” She smiled and kissed my cheek. “Now, in that truck over there.”
I carried the box to where she was pointing, and a tired-looking guy took it from me and loaded it in.
My childhood home was in chaos. Two trucks were parked out front and men I’d never seen before were crawling in and out, carrying things and loading them into the trucks. I watched as two men carefully hoisted my dresser up into the back of a truck.
Meanwhile, my mother was guiding the whole affair with the precision of a military commander. She was directing, commanding, and yelling, all while managing to make the poor movers’ lives more difficult.
And I didn’t know anything about it. She told me she had sold it, but not that she hadn’t moved out of it yet. Of course she chose the day I was coming home to get it finished when she probably had weeks, or maybe even months.
“Mom,” I said to her, “why are you doing this today? You knew I was coming home, right?”
She gave me a haggard smile. “Yes, sweetie, I know. But this all happened so fast, and the buyer wants to move in tomorrow. So here we are.”
I sighed. “And all my stuff?”
“Sweetie, you’re going to love the new house. It’s absolutely enormous, and the grounds are incredible.”
I knew that arguing or complaining was going to get me nowhere. She quickly moved away, already harping on a pair of movers that weren’t treating her precious coffee table with enough respect.
I couldn’t imagine where we’d be keeping all of our stuff. Probably in some storage shed in a barn out back behind the main house. From what I could tell, I was moving into this enormous mansion, an absurdly expensive piece of property with pretty much every amenity I could ever imagine.
And I hated it. I hated that my mother had made this decision for me, and I hated that she had waited until the last possible moment to do the move. At least the guys that had picked me up from the airport were nice, even though they had instructions to drop me off with my mother.
Apparently we were supposed to head to the grounds together to get “checked in” or something like that. It seemed incredibly strange, but I was going with everything for the time being.
Frankly, I had nowhere else to stay.
The day moved on like that as the trucks slowly filled up. I helped out where I could, but mostly I just stayed out of everyone’s way. Mother was bossy enough, and the guys didn’t need another distraction.
Finally, the trucks were packed. I was basically thrown into the back of a black SUV, my bags taken from me and stowed somewhere else. “You won’t need these,” the guy said as he carried them off.
What the hell was happening to me?
“Are you ready, ma’am?” our driver asked my mother as she climbed in next to me.
“Yes. Let’s head out.”
“Great.” He pulled out into traffic, and the two trucks followed close by.
“Mom, why didn’t you tell me about any of this?” I asked her, finally ready to go on the offensive.
She shook her head. “I know, I’m an awful mother. But listen to me.” She took my hand and looked more serious than I had ever seen her before. “This is a great opportunity for both of us. Arturo can take care of you and me. He’s a wonderful man.”
“I don’t know him,” I said. “And why do we have to get ‘checked in’ or whatever?”
“Well, he runs a very strict household. Lots of security.”
“Why?”
She looked at me dubiously. “You don’t know?”
I shook my head. “What the hell is happening, Mom?”
She glanced at the driver and then back at me and quickly plastered a smile on her face. “Nothing. Nothing at all. We’re just moving into our new home. You’re going to love it, I promise.”
I could tell I wasn’t going to get anywhere new with her. The fake smile was there, which meant she was ready to act however she needed to get through the conversation.
I wanted to throw her out of the moving car. Instead, I put on my headphones and listened to music as we drove through the city, out toward my new home.
It felt like my whole life had shifted. Lucas kept breaking into my thoughts, despite the huge stress I was under. I kept thinking about his delicious cocky grin, his taste, his hands on my body. I kept thinking about the way he made me feel.
He made me ravenous and starving for more. And that scared me. It scared me that I had gone through the wedding ceremony with him, and it scared me that I couldn’t wait for him to peel off my clothes and to fuck me absolutely senseless.
I always had control of myself. I tried very hard to be the opposite of my mother in almost every way imaginable. But around Lucas I’d felt myself acting totally outside myself, like I almost wasn’t in control anymore.
And it had felt really, really good. That was what scared me the most.
The city slipped past the window, and the tight streets turned into wider avenues as we transitioned into the suburbs. It took about forty minutes to get out of the city, and another ten before we were finally at the absurdly ornate gates of the house.
The car stopped in front of a guard booth. I’d never seen one outside a residential home before, but there it was. The driver had a brief conversation, and then we were waved inside.
My mouth hung open as we wound up along the driveway. Manicured lawns, croquet courts, fountains, beautiful trees and flowers and bushes, and the house itself. It was all enormous, incredible, amazing. I’d never seen anything so expensive and beautiful in my whole life, even back when my mother hadn’t spent all of my father’s fortune yet.
We stopped outside a small wing of the house, and the driver climbed out. He opened my door. “If you’ll follow me, ladies.”
We got out and walked behind him. I couldn’t help but look around.
“Where is Arturo?” Mom asked the driver.
“Mister Barone will be here shortly,” he said. “I’m supposed to get you two situated first.”
Barone? Why did that name sound so familiar? I didn’t have time to think too much about it since I was too busy gaping around me.
We were led inside the house. It was richly decorated with plush rugs, statues, lovely plants, and paintings that were each probably worth more than my entire wardrobe. We followed the driver into a small side room, where he sat down at a desk.
“Okay,” he said, “have a seat. I’m going to go over the grounds with you, make you both have badges so you can get in and out easily, and basically answer any questions you may have.”
What followed was one of the most surreal experiences of my life.
It was like an orientation at a hotel resort. The driver, whose name turned out to be Franklin, explained all about the grounds. He showed us a map and pointed out the pool, the hiking trails, the horse stables, the animal barns, the grape vineyard, the hedge maze, and much more. He printed us both plastic cards that would unlock any doors and said that if a door didn’t unlock, it was considered off-limits.
Mother didn’t seem to bat an eye at the off-limits comment, but that struck me. What sort of businessman had off-limits parts of his home, especially for his new stepdaughter and his new wife? I
t seemed strange, but no stranger than anything else.
After maybe a half hour, Franklin finished our little orientation. He asked if we had any questions, but I was far too overwhelmed to ask any.
“Okay,” he said, standing. “Follow me. Mister Barone and his son are waiting to greet you.”
We followed him out into the hallway. I could tell that Mother was practically bubbling with nervous energy. She kept fixing her hair and nervously playing with the hem of her expensive and revealing dress. Meanwhile, I felt mainly dread and awe, in that order.
Franklin took us down a series of hallways that made no sense to me, and by the time he knocked on an ornate wooden door, I was completely lost.
“Enter,” someone said from inside.
Franklin opened the door. “Go ahead in. I’ll be out here if any of you needs anything.”
“Thank you Franklin, dear,” Mother said.
He smiled at her. I noticed for the first time that Franklin was actually pretty young. In the car I had assumed he was an older guy, but he had a baby face up close. I didn’t have time to dwell on that, as Mother swept me into the room.
What I saw next nearly put me on the ground.
Sitting behind a large, oak desk was an older man. He was older than Mother by a few years, but he seemed fit regardless. His dark hair we thinning but cropped short, and although he was certainly soft in the middle, he held his weight like he was once a football player. He stood up, smiling. His suit was expensive and fit him well.
“Ladies, welcome.”
“Arturo!” Mother said, walking toward him. He came out from behind the desk and they kissed.
But that wasn’t what had my full attention.
No, it was the grinning bastard standing next to the desk.
He was as handsome as I remembered, if not more so. Everything that had happened the night before came flooding back to me in that moment as his cocky grin burned right into my face.
Lucas Barone. The man from the night before. The man I had married on a whim. The man I had been thinking about nonstop since I’d laid eyes on him.