Taken for His Own: An Arranged Marriage Dark Mafia Romance (The Torenti Family Book 3)

by Mae Doyle

  “You want me to fuck you?” I lean down, my breath tickling her ear and slowly start to stroke her inside. I know where to touch her, how to make her squirm, but I want to make sure that she appreciates it. I need to make sure that she knows that I don’t have to do this.

  That I want to.

  Fuck, I want her to cry out my name as she soaks my cock in her juice.

  She nods. I feel her movement, and even though she doesn’t ask me, doesn’t beg me like I’d like her to, I’m going to give it to her. We have plenty of time for her to learn her manners. I know that I’ll have her begging me to fuck her soon enough.

  “Good girl,” I whisper, kissing along her neck as I position myself. Her tight thighs are spread for me and I squeeze them as I push her open so that I can settle between her. My cock aches to be in her, and I know that I can’t wait another minute, so I thrust forward as soon as I’m centered, my cock slamming into her.

  “Oh!” She cries out, sitting up a little and reaching for me. Her nails dig into my skin and she pulls me down to her, kissing me furiously as I slip out and then back into her. She’s soaking for me, like a good girl should be, and I slide easily in and out, slowly stretching and filling her.

  She’s so fucking tight. Her muscles squeeze me and my cock throbs in her as I thrust. Dropping one hand between us, I find her clit and thumb it, pressing it hard as I stroke into her.

  She responds like I knew she would, gasping and arching her back. Her whole body is trembling under mine. I can feel all of her muscles trying their best to hold on and I can feel the fact that she’s about to lose control.

  And there’s not a fucking thing that she can do about it, because I’m not going to stop. I’m going to tear this orgasm from her, then another, and I’m going to make sure that she knows that I’m the man who can do that.

  I’m the only one who can do this to her.

  “Enzo!” She screams, and the way my name leaves her lips makes me harder, makes me lose control. She milks me as she comes, her muscles clamped so tight on my cock that I couldn’t pull out of her if I wanted to.

  I feel them tighten around me and I close my eyes, grunting as I thrust once more into her. I’m deeper than ever before, and I feel my release as my seed soaks her. She loses it, digging her nails hard into my back as she comes, her body shaking around me.

  I let her shake. She’s tipped over the edge, her whole body hard and tight as she falls, shattering around me. Her pussy clamps onto me, and just when I know that she’s almost done, I build her back up.

  Slowly I rub her clit and at first, she moans, trying to push my hand away, but I’m not going to stop. Lucia needs to know what this can be like, and she needs to know that I’m the only one who can give her what she needs.

  She stops pushing me away and breathes harder. Her face is flushed and twisted, and I grin as she bites her lower lip.

  “You need to come for me again, Lucia,” I tell her, slowly picking up speed. She mews and grabs at my shoulders, but I don’t move. I’m not going to give her anything but another orgasm, and then she’ll know that I’m the one she needs.

  She’ll know that I’m the only one who can do this to her.

  For her.

  She’s tightly wound and I know that she’s almost there. I press down on her clit again, hard, twisting my thumb so that there’s some pain mixed with her pleasure, and she screams out my name as she comes, her body writhing under mine.

  She’s soaking her sheets, her sweet juice pouring from her, and I bend my head to lap at her, my tongue swirling around her clit as she falls apart.

  “Enzo,” she gasps out, finally, reaching down for me. “What the hell was that?”

  I grin at her and slide up next to her. She’s trembling with the effects of her orgasms and I grab a blanket, yanking it up to pull it over her.

  “That,” I tell her, grabbing her chin and twisting her head so that she has to look at me, “is just a taste of what it’ll be like when you’re my wife.”

  I don’t know what it is about Lucia, but she’s under my skin. I want her, and not just for tonight. I want to roll over and see her fiery red hair on the pillow next to me, and I want to be the one she turns to when she needs something.

  Her eyes darken and she scoots away from me, grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around herself as she stands up. “I’m going to shower. And don’t you dare think that I’m ever going to be your wife. This was a mistake and you need to let yourself out.”

  With that, she stalks away. I throw myself back on her bed, a laugh bubbling up from my lips. If Lucia thinks that I’m just going to leave after getting a taste of her delicious cunt then she’s got another fucking thing coming to her.

  Chapter 7

  Lucia

  What the hell was that?

  I mean, besides some of the best, most earth-shattering sex that I’ve ever had? What the hell was I thinking letting Enzo not only stay in my house after we found Mack, but also sleeping with him?

  Fucked. That’s what it was. We didn’t sleep together. We fucked. This man claims that he’s willing to marry me and what do I do?

  God, I’m so stupid.

  A nice hot shower sounds like it would be amazing, but I don’t deserve it, so I crank the cold knob as far as it will go, drop my blanket, and jump in.

  It’s like small icicles are pounding into my skin, and I almost adjust the temperature, but I stop myself at the last second.

  I just had all of the enjoyment that I deserve for…well, a very long time. I honestly didn’t know that a man could touch me like that and could make my body respond like that, but Enzo is different.

  I scoff. Sure, he’s different. He’s a wanna-be mobster who’s more than willing to fall into bed with any girl that he meets. I hate him, but not as much as I hate myself right now.

  “What the hell were you thinking, Lucia?” I ask myself, but of course, nobody answers. The cold water continues to bite at my skin until I finally soap up and hop out, my teeth chittering, to wrap myself in a towel.

  “You can’t do that again. You have to end this. You don’t need the distraction in your life, okay?” I know that it sounds crazy, but I look a good self pep talk, and I’ve always been good at them, especially since my parents died and I felt like I didn’t have anyone I could turn to for help.

  Although, in this case, I can’t imagine how the conversation would go.

  Hey, mom, I need your advice. I just had sex with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. Oh, and he wants to marry me. And I almost forgot – Uncle Marco thinks that someone’s out to kill me, and marrying this guy is the best way for me to get the protection that I need.

  It’s bullshit, and I’m pretty sure that if she weren’t already dead, I’d put her in an early grave if I told her that.

  It’s cold in my bathroom and I dance on the rug by the bedroom door, trying to hear if he’s gone. I want to run out there and grab my flannel pjs so that I can warm up, but the last thing that I want to do is see him still in my bed. Fuck.

  After a moment, I peek out the door. Nothing. Not even Mack, which is a little strange, because he loves being in the same room as me.

  Whatever. I throw on my pjs and run my fingers through my hair, shivering the entire time, then leave my room to find the dog. He’s probably sitting by his bowl waiting for something to eat. Come to think of it, I’m not sure that I gave him any dinner before…

  Well, before I fucked Enzo. There. I said it.

  “Mack?” I hate that my voice sounds a little scared, but I’ll admit, Uncle Marco has me a little spooked with the whole death threat thing. Enzo did check the house, and that makes me feel a little better, but you just never know.

  You have to be careful, I guess.

  I hear movement in the kitchen, and I take a deep breath before walking down the hall. Mack is skittering around on in there, and I poke my head around the door to see what’s up.

  He’s playing. With Enzo.

 
“What the hell are you still doing here?” I burst out, before I have a chance to think about what I’m saying. “Didn’t I tell you to leave? Didn’t you get what you came for?”

  I cross my arms over my chest to hide the fact that my nipples could cut glass and march into the kitchen. Enzo’s on the floor playing with Mack, but he gets up as soon as I walk in, his eyes gliding over my body.

  I wish he’d stop that. He knows what I look like naked, and that makes me flush.

  “Yeah, I’m not going. Not until we work something out.” He sounds infuriatingly calm, but there’s a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

  “What’s so funny?” I snap, pushing past him to get to the coffee maker. That’s what I need. Coffee. The storm still rages on outside and it’s still early enough that I may want dinner later, but right now, I just need coffee.

  “Nothing,” he says, turning his body so that he can watch me as I stalk across the kitchen. “Unless, of course, we’re talking about your pjs.”

  “What’s wrong with them?” I’m holding my coffee mug as I spin around to glare at him. “You don’t like them?”

  “I love them,” he answers quickly, “it’s just that I didn’t take you for the kind of woman to wear flannel pjs with pawprints all over them.”

  I blush and move my mug behind my back so that he can’t see the pawprints on it. Or the fact that the handle is a dog tail. “They’re cute,” I tell him, sniffing and turning back around. “Something that you wouldn’t really know anything about.”

  This makes him bark out a laugh, but I don’t turn around. He can laugh all he wants to, but if he does, then he’s cut off. I’m not interested in him.

  Yeah, tell that to my throbbing core.

  “I thought that you’d come out in some lingerie. I’m not disappointed, exactly, Lucia, just a little surprised.”

  Keeping my back to him, I answer him. “Well, I’m sorry that I’m not a whore like the other women you’ve been with, Enzo. Why don’t you go running to them to let them warm your bed?”

  He’s silent and I have a very good feeling that I’ve gone too far. Taking a deep breath, I slowly turn around, still gripping the mug.

  “Enzo,” I begin, but he cuts me off with a raised hand.

  “Lucia, listen, I’m going to do everything that I can to keep you safe. It’s what Pops wants, and it’s obviously what your dad wanted for you, even if you can’t bring yourself to accept that. I checked your house and you’re good tonight, but now I have to go see about my dog.”

  He bends down and gives Mack a pat on the head before standing back up and turning for the door.

  Regret bursts through me. “Enzo, wait, I’m sorry.” I honestly didn’t think that what I’d said was that bad, but I must have hit a nerve with him. He turns his head but keeps walking, and he crosses the living room to the front door is just a few easy steps.

  “I’ll check on you in the morning, Lucia. Stay in the house, don’t let anyone in, and call me if something goes wrong.” He pulls a slip of paper from his pocket and I automatically reach out to take it before I realize that it’s his phone number.

  “Just wait,” I say, but he ignores me and opens the door.

  “Lock me out,” he commands, then he shuts the door firmly behind him. It’s still pouring and I run to the window to watch him walk to his truck. Most people would run to get out of the rain, but he’s steady and slow, like he has all the time in the world.

  Guilt stabs through me, but I’m not sure why. I wanted him gone, right? This is exactly what I wanted from him – for him to leave me alone so that I didn’t have to deal with him or worry about the fact that he’s intent on marrying me.

  So why the fuck so I feel so damn guilty about it?

  ◆◆◆

  The slip of paper with his number on it has sat on my counter all evening. One glass of wine seemed appropriate with dinner, but that quickly turned into two.

  Fine, three.

  I shouldn’t have had that much to drink, but I couldn’t help myself, and now I can’t help myself from picking up the paper and considering calling him. He said to call him if something goes wrong, but what if I call him just…because? Just because I miss him?

  Scoffing at myself, I drop the paper onto the counter and pull my laptop over to me. “Okay, Enzo,” I say to myself, “I know your name and I know that you know the Torentis, so let’s find you.”

  My fingers fly across the keys, but there have to be hundreds of Enzos when I search his name and our state. If I knew his last name, then this would be a hell of a lot easier. I consider calling a friend who is a police officer, but the last thing I want is for them to poke around and wonder how I’m getting involved with the mafia.

  Nobody knows that I’m a Torenti. Nobody except the Torentis themselves and whoever thinks that threatening me is a good idea.

  Fuck.

  Wait. Social media. I bet that he’s friends with either Arlo or Roque. It takes me a while to find their accounts, but I’m tenacious, and I eventually get them pulled up. Searching through their friends until I find Enzo is easy enough, and in just a few minutes, his gorgeous face is staring at me from my screen.

  “Okay, Enzo, what are you hiding?” I click through his profile. He loves his dog, his work, and hanging out with friends. There aren’t any incriminating pictures of him drunk or doing something stupid.

  In fact, if I didn’t know that he was involved with the mafia, I’d think that he was a good guy. Shaking my head, I shut my computer with a click. I can’t think like that.

  I know that my dad wouldn’t have kept me away from my uncle if he was a good guy, so it’s insane of me to think that anyone Uncle Marco would associate with would be any better. I hate it, but it’s true.

  None of them are good. That’s why I was kept from them. That’s why, even though the sex was amazing, I can’t see Enzo again. I certainly can’t marry him.

  Can you even imagine?

  I can just see my dad rolling over in his grave if I married Enzo and fell into a life with the mafia after he fought so hard to keep me out of it.

  Nope. Not something that I can let myself worry about. Instead of continuing to poke around to try to find out more about him, which is what I really want to do, I leave my computer where it is and head to bed.

  Gotta sleep off the headache that I know is coming. This week is going to be crazy and I know that I’ve only made it worse by giving him a second thought.

  It’s time to cut ties. Move on. Focus on me, and me alone. Not on Enzo. Not on his hands, his mouth, his cock.

  Fuck.

  Chapter 8

  Enzo

  Lucia doesn’t want me anywhere near her? That’s fine, but I’m still going to do what Pops asked me to do and keep an eye on her. I know that she thinks that she’s tough enough to handle herself on her own, but if what I saw Sunday night was any indication, she’s wrong.

  Dead wrong, and I don’t want to let her end up shot in the head and in a ditch somewhere.

  At least this week has been quiet. I’ve had my assistant, Corey, run booking for me. He’s a smart kid, even though he’s young, and he’s done a pretty good job keeping all of my clients happy while I babysit from afar.

  She’s been spending most of her time in court this week, and while I’d love to go in and sit in to hear what she’s really up to, I have a pretty good feeling that that would just piss her off. No, if I want to be able to keep an eye on her then I need to do so from a distance.

  That’s why I’m sitting outside the courthouse, parked so I can easily see the front door, waiting on her to come out for lunch. I know that cases usually break around noon or a big after, and I already have a sub waiting on me. Ma’s been packing me food every day, and I don’t mind one bit.

  Once I lay eyes on her and follow her to where she’s going to eat then I can relax and enjoy my meal, but until then, I’ve got my eyes locked on the door.

  That’s why I see what I do.


  Most people probably wouldn’t give the two guys walking up the steps to the courthouse a second look, but there’s just something about how they’re moving that puts me on edge. The taller one keeps glancing around like he’s forgotten something or like he’s worried about being watched.

  But it’s the shorter one that has me a bit on edge. He’s got a hat on and the brim is pulled down low on his forehead, which means that he’ll be tricky to ID later if shit goes south. That is clue enough that something’s going on, but the other thing that makes me sit up and take notice is the slight bulge at his lower back.

  Yeah, I know exactly what that is. A lot of guys I know like to wear their piece there, but how the hell he thinks he’s going to get through security is beyond me. He sure as hell isn’t a cop, and I get out of my truck quickly, not even worrying about how hard I slam the door.

  He may be stupid enough to carry his piece into the courthouse, but I’m not. It’s tucked between the seats of my truck, and I feel naked and exposed as I cut across the courthouse to them. By the time I make it up the steps, he’s already inside with his taller counterpart.

  There’s no way he’ll make it pass security, right?

  The tall guy goes through first and the metal detector starts beeping like crazy. He has a grin on his face as an officer pulls him from the detector and uses a wand to check him for a gun. While the officer is busy, the shorter guy quick-steps around the detector, then steps in front of it like he’d walked through hit.

  Bastard.

  The taller guy lifts up his shirt and the wand goes crazy on his oversized belt buckle. It looks like something gawdy that a tourist would buy when visiting Texas to make themselves feel like a cowboy, and the officer, satisfied, waves the two of them on.

  Fucking hell. I dart to the metal detector and slip through it without a sound. The officer nods at me and then takes a long swig of his coffee.

  He has no idea what he just did. I don’t know the two thugs walking ahead of me, but I have absolutely no reason to think that they’re friendly, or that they aren’t here to hurt Lucia. She’s in a courtroom down the hall, number 102A, and I’m not at all surprised when we turn down the hall in that direction.