A Monster's Obsession: (Arrangement Series Book 5)

by Kasey Martin

  The Wall Street bastards didn’t have shit on the monster that I am. My family was Irish mob. We ran shit here in the states for generations, and like my father before me and his before him, I was going to be the Don. I started my training young and made my first kill when I was sixteen. I was ruthless, dangerous, and angry. I was always so fucking angry.

  And today, when I should’ve been happy that I’d finally gotten my father’s approval and moved one step closer to taking over the family, I was angry. It had been two years of nonstop searching, and I still hadn’t come up with any reason why someone would kill my wife, Cara.

  Cara was a sweet woman with a pretty smile, long red hair, and bright hazel-green eyes. We didn’t love one another when we were married, but we had an arrangement that we both agreed on. Our families were two of the most powerful families in the Irish mob council. Our marriage had been arranged before we were even born. I never had any preconceived notions about love or marriage, so marrying for money and power seemed normal for me. And today of all days, I was informed that my last hope of finding evidence of foul play in Cara’s accident, was dead.

  I frowned as I thought of my in-laws. Cara may have been sweet, but she wasn’t naïve. She knew what I was and what our union represented. We were high targets for families who wanted to make a name for themselves, but I was cocky. I let my new wife leave the safety of our home with only her bodyguard, Doyle. He was new, but he came highly recommended, and we trusted him to do his job and protect Cara.

  I never thought anyone would dare touch her, she was married to a Nash and born to a family of killers. Only a fool would fuck with us. And although both the police and the Council said she died in an accident, something in my gut told me differently. They claimed it could’ve been a faulty brake system, but they couldn’t know for sure because of the fire. Faulty brakes were way too obvious. Who in their right mind would believe such bullshit? Well, I sure the fuck didn’t.

  There was foul play and I promised myself I would find out who killed Cara. I let my guard down, and it was my fault. Finding her killer wouldn’t bring her back, but getting revenge would calm the beast inside of me.

  As I sat brooding and drinking, a vision of beauty floated into the restaurant. The woman was small, and she couldn’t have been more than five-three or four. She wore a red, orange, and green flowery patterned maxi skirt and a tight white crocheted top that caressed the swell of her pert breast. There was a sliver of belly that peaked through when she walked. Her afro was a glorious crown that bounced with every step of her platform shoes. The large gold hoops caressed the smooth brown skin of her shoulders, and I could imagine my fingers doing the same. Her beautiful face held a bright smile that displayed straight white teeth and dimples that gave her an innocent look. Her light brown eyes glittered, and the bangles on her wrists jangled when she waved. I stared across the room to see who she was greeting, and I couldn’t help the scowl when I saw a tall black man with the wide smile waving back.

  Was it her boyfriend? Maybe a husband? What was it about this woman that made me want her?

  I continued to watch the pair as they embraced in a hug that said they were familiar with one another, but the kiss on the cheek told me that maybe they weren’t romantic. I took a deep breath, and my shoulders relaxed at the friendly gesture. When she threw her head back, and a melodious sound left her perfect lips, I smiled. The action felt almost foreign because I didn’t smile often, shit, I didn’t smile at all. She would be mine.

  ***

  PRESENT

  “Do you want something else to eat?” I’d been watching Sasha push the food around on her plate for over ten minutes. The silence between us was awkward and uncomfortable. It was never like this.

  But maybe that’s because all we did was fuck. We never had in-depth conversations, and we never asked one another the hard questions. We were each other’s refuge, and we didn’t want to taint that, now I wish we would have.

  “No, no.” Sasha shook her head, “it’s fine.” I sighed heavily because we were going to have to have a difficult conversation, even harder than when she told me about her leaving.

  “It’s not fine, Céile. I need you to tell me what’s going on. What are you thinking?” Sasha placed her knife and fork down and wiped her make-up free face with a napkin. I may not like what she was about to tell me, but I would do my best to listen and not react.

  “When I went into the closet, I realized just how little I know about you.” Sasha looked into my eyes with a sadness that I hated to see.

  “You realized that by my clothes?” I asked, confused. We had a whole conversation about me being in the mob, something I had kept a secret from her the entire time that we were together, and my clothes are what she was worried about.

  “Yeah, your clothes. You have leather bracelets and flip flops. I’ve only ever seen you in suits or naked.” Sasha smirked up at me. “It was absolutely believable that you are in the mob. You always had this… way about you. This danger that oozed out of you like honey. But I tried picturing where a guy like yourself would wear leather bracelets.”

  Out of all the things I’ve told Sasha about me, she was focused on the fact that I wore bracelets. The strange thing was, I wasn’t completely shocked. Sasha’s quirkiness was one of the things I liked about her. The fact that as an artist, she often saw things that other people either overlooked or never bothered to notice.

  “I do take vacations, you know,” I smirked at her trying to ease the discomfort I felt at her seeing me.

  “Oh yeah. So I’m guessing you’re a beach guy.” Sasha smiled at me, and I felt relief that she was changing the subject. Well, sort of.

  “I haven’t been in years, but yeah.” I gave Sasha a sexy smile to try and distract her, and when she dipped her head and touched her hair, I knew she was blushing.

  “So, we’re married now.” Her statement came out a little shaky, and I knew she was nervous. The last time she brought up our marriage just a few hours ago, I lost my shit.

  “Yes, we are, Mrs. Nash.”

  “We didn’t sign a prenup, Sawyer.” Sasha looked at me with determination covering her beautiful face. No nickname… just Sawyer. I knew she was about to start some shit.

  “We don’t need a prenup, Céile,” I growled the words through clenched teeth. Don’t lose your shit, Sawyer.

  “Sawyer,” Sasha sighed my name like a curse, “I don’t want your money, so you’re right. We don’t need a prenup, but we can’t stay married. We don’t even know each other.”

  “We can get to know each other. I’m not giving you a divorce. There’s still a threat out there, and we have to stay married.” I stated dismissively before picking up my wine and sipping calmly. Keep it together, Sawyer.

  “We don’t need a divorce. We haven’t consummated our marriage; we can get it annulled.” Sasha’s beautiful face was hopeful, and the look was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

  I calmly rose from my chair, rounded the table, and stood in front of my wife. Her eyes were wide, and that hopeful look was replaced with fear. Good. Sasha should be afraid. She’s the only woman who ever enticed the monster. And now she would really have a reason to call me by her little pet name.

  I swiped all the dishes off the table, and Sasha gasped and jumped out of her chair. I picked her little ass up and placed her where the nice dinner setting was. The look on her face was priceless. She was turned on.

  “Monster, what…” I didn’t let her finish the sentence as I pulled her face toward mine and kissed her breathless. I pushed up the skirt of her short tank top style dress and pushed her panties to the side. My fingers rubbed her hardened clit making her hot pussy wetter with each stroke.

  “You call me, Monster, and then act surprised! You know who I am. And you knew what I’d do if you baited me.” My voice was rough with hunger, and I couldn’t hold back the anger and frustrations that dripped from my every word.

  “Sawyer…” Sasha moaned as I s
tuck two of my large fingers inside her. Her hips began to swivel, chasing the feeling of my touch.

  “I know you want me. We may not have had many conversations, but your body tells me everything I need to know. It always has, and it always will.”

  Chapter 9

  SASHA

  My body heated at Sawyer’s touch. Like he said, “it always had, and it always would.” From the very first time he ever touched me, my body was his and his alone. I could play tough, but his touch made all the games and resistance fly from my head.

  I wouldn’t even try to stop him. I couldn’t if I wanted to… which I don’t. I’ve been craving this man’s touch since I left him two years ago. I thought I’d never get the chance to ever have this feeling again.

  “Sawyer, I…” My words once again were lost on a guttural moan.

  “I know, baby. Give me the words I need to hear them!” His voice demanded, and I folded like he knew that I would. Sawyer had my body worked up, but he wouldn’t let me fall over the edge. He kept his fingers at a steady pace inside me as he swirled his thumb over my clit.

  “Monster, shit! Fuck me!” I exclaimed in frustration.

  “Your wish is my command, Céile.” Sawyer’s pulsating dick entered me in one hard push. I don’t know when he even had the time to pull it out, and I didn’t give not one single fuck!

  “Ohhh.” We groaned in unison. How I missed the feel of him. Damn! I have been missing out.

  Sawyer lay me down on the table and continued to stroke in and out of me with a frenzied pace. I wrapped my legs around his waist and thrust my hips up to meet his. I reached my hand up to touch his handsome face, but he stopped me. Sawyer grabbed both my hands and placed them above my head. He held them there as he pummeled my pussy. He leaned down until we were nose to nose, he growled like an animal staring into my eyes with his narrowed in anger.

  “You think you can just leave me? Do you think I would ever let you go again? Never! Do you fucking hear me? Never!” With each word, I could feel his passion building. His dick was getting harder, and his strokes were more aggressive. I released a long moan that I could no longer hold inside. I wanted to rip off my shirt, which we didn’t bother removing. His sweat dripped onto my face when he lifted his head to look at me. His smile was feral when he leaned down and kissed the side of my face.

  He slowed down, watching me intensely, and I shivered in response to his long, languid strokes. All I could do is groan and take everything that he was giving me. My hands were still held tightly in his, and all I wanted to do was touch him. To connect with him like we used to do.

  “Sawyer, let me touch you.” I pleaded gazing lovingly into his handsome face. His chiseled jaw was clenched, and his mouth was held in an angry line.

  “No!” The one word told me more than I was willing to admit to myself. This intimate act was all consuming for me, but for him, it was about control. I turned my face away from his burning stare. I didn’t want him to see the hurt in my eyes. After all, it was me who suggested that we get an annulment. I just wanted to give him the option that I thought he deserved. It didn’t matter that we had a previous sexual relationship. We were not in a place where we should’ve been married.

  “Don’t turn away from me,” Sawyer grabbed my jaw roughly and turned my head to face him. He held me in place as he licked my lips before pushing his seeking tongue into my mouth. Sawyer kissed me with a hunger that I’d never felt before, even with him. He was sending me mixed signals, telling me no but showing me yes. However, I couldn’t concentrate on that because my body was too built up. And when Sawyer let go of my jaw to slide his hand between our pressed bodies to play with my clit, I finally crashed over the edge into the abyss.

  “You are mine. And you’re not going any-fucking-where, and don’t you ever-fucking forget it!” I thought we were finished. I was wrong. Oh, so wrong. I just orgasmed, yet my body was being greedy, and I felt the flutters of another orgasm as Sawyer kept moving inside of me.

  Before I knew it, Sawyer had picked me up and slammed my back against a wall. My hands were held above my head, still wrapped in his strong grip, and my legs were still wrapped tightly around his waist as he pounded into me. His slacks rubbed against my bare thighs, and the friction was adding to the eroticism of the situation. Sawyer took me roughly, biting and sucking on my neck in between him grunting and swearing loudly. It was savage, lustful, hedonistic, and hot as hell!

  “I’m gonna cum. Don’t stop! Please don’t stop!” I yelled out, rocking my hips, doing my best to match Sawyer’s rhythm, but I couldn’t keep up.

  “Don’t you fucking cum,” he growled ruthlessly. “You cum when I say you can.” He stilled his hips, and my orgasm started to fade. I whimpered in utter dismay, but when Sawyer chuckled, it pissed me off.

  “You motherfucker! I said I want to cum!” He had done this to me. He made me remember how his dick felt. He made me feel pleasure and a connection that I hadn’t felt since I walked away from him.

  “Oh! I’m a motherfucker now, huh? No, I’m a monster!” Sawyer’s laugh was manic, and it scared me a little. But I know he couldn’t tell that I was afraid because my juices gushed out like water falling into a waiting river. But my second orgasm hung at the precipice, and Sawyer’s petty ass was still refusing to move.

  “Please…” I wasn’t above begging at this moment. I needed this release so bad I could taste it. Yes, I was being completely gluttonous, and it should’ve embarrassed me, but I didn’t give a damn. My body felt entirely too good to be ashamed.

  “It’s too late to beg, sweet Céile. This pussy is mine. I’ll make her sing when I’m ready.” Sawyer was holding his body rigid as he held me up against the dining room wall, and I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. I wasn’t in pain, at least not physically. But the frustration of not cumming was making the emotions spill out of my eyes.

  “Don’t cry, baby,” Sawyer licked my cheeks free of the salty tears that spilled from my eyes and kissed my eyelids. He finally let go of my hands and caressed my face tenderly, “You deserve every bit of this punishment, Céile. I need you to understand that spanking isn’t the only way for you to learn that I am your husband. And now that we have consummated our marriage, there’s no easy way out! I won’t let you leave me this time!” I couldn’t believe his words. Sawyer Nash was punishing me for giving him options. We had a fling, and he married me to keep me safe after I made a foolish decision. It wasn’t fair for him to have to stay married to me forever. It wasn’t fair to keep him in this arrangement.

  However, before I could express my grievances, Sawyer began to move. His hips moved slowly at first, and just when I got used to the pace, he sped up so fast that all I could do was wrap my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life.

  “Cum!” Sawyer commanded, and like a soldier following a general, I came.

  “Ohhhhshityes! Feelsgoodbabyyes!” My words flowed out in a jumbled mess. I threw my head back against the wall as my body trembled with my release. My orgasm seemed to go on forever, and all the energy was sucked out of me. I closed my eyes as I felt myself going limp against his hard muscular chest.

  “Don’t go to sleep yet, sweet Céile. I’m not done with you.” I immediately knew that his words were a promise of more punishment, and I also knew that I was indeed crazy because I couldn’t wait.

  ***

  Sawyer “punished” my body for the rest of the night. He didn’t let me sleep, and after the fourth time I orgasmed, I stopped counting. The energizer bunny didn’t have shit on my husband. I found myself begging him to stop and meaning it. When I could barely hold my eyes open any longer, Sawyer finally let me sleep. However, my rest didn’t last long when I felt him lift my leg and slide into me from behind. I had no idea what time it was, and it didn’t really matter. Sawyer took my body to the highest of highs as he caressed my breasts and kissed my neck affectionately. His thick digits found my clit as he moved inside of me once more.

  “I’m sorr
y, baby. Please forgive me.” I’m not sure what he was apologizing for, and I was in no state to ask. This was definitely not a punishment. It was making love, and I think that scared me more than anything we’d ever done. We climaxed together, me for the millionth time and Sawyer for the first time. I got the feeling he was holding back his climax, but I had no idea why.

  The next morning when I woke up alone, I was hurt. I wanted to talk to Sawyer about what happened, but I guess we were going to stay in the cycle of not talking to each other. I sighed; there was no use in me worrying about a man I couldn’t change. I was a gallery owner now, and I had work that needed to be done.

  I may not have been able to divorce Sawyer, but the least I could do is pay him his money back. I’m a big girl, and I can own up to my mistakes. I made a huge error by getting involved with a loan shark. I was in over my head, and I can admit that. Sawyer saved me when he didn’t have to, but I had no illusions of a happily ever after. Sawyer wasn’t that type of a man, and that was something that I would have to accept just like the first time we were together.

  After my shower, I placed my hair in a puffball on the top of my head. I sweated out my twist out with our wild night of sex, and I didn’t have the strength or the wherewithal to wear a bonnet to sleep. I put on a little face powder and nude lip gloss to finish off my look. The gallery wasn’t open on Sundays, but I thought I would go in and catch up on some paperwork I had neglected over the past few days.

  I dressed in my usual casual bohemian style of maxi dress and platform sandals with large hoop earrings and multiple bangles on my wrists. I was much more relaxed when I dressed like myself. Lately, I’ve had to wear much more sophisticated attire. I wanted to make sure I perfectly represented my business. I was already at a disadvantage because I grew up on the wrong side of Founder’s island. People knew that I didn’t come from money, and some of the more uptight members of the high society didn’t let me forget it. But no matter what, I refused to let stuck-up elitist dictate the success of my business. My gallery was already a success after only a few showings. Once I convinced my old friend and hot photographer, Yohan Hobbs, to show his newest work, then I would draw in a huge crowd.