Owned: A Mafia Menage Romance(73)

“I now pronounce you, man and wife. You may kiss your bride!” he declares. The organ player coos and sighs like little old ladies do. Alek tips our bride’s beautiful face up toward his with his thumbs under her jaw and then kisses her for a long time. A long, long time. My heart is full to bursting.

When they finally separate, I step forward. Marie's eyes are glistening with tears and her chest heaves with every tiny, excited breath that she takes. I slide in next to them, pushing my hand delicately underneath her hair. I’m careful not to mess up the beautiful knot she arranged there, even though I'm really looking forward to messing up her hair in a serious way in as soon as possible.

But for now, all I want to do is kiss her. I pull her up slightly, tasting the sweet honey flavor of her mouth, feeling the tentative kitten swipes of her tongue as I suck against her lips.

The organ player gasps again, and when I set Marie down gently, I see the preacher looking at me like with his mouth hanging open, slightly horrified.

“Spacibo, father,” I say in my best Russian accent.

“Da, thank you,” Alek repeats behind me.

The preacher glances, horrified, at the organ player who shrugs as if to say what are you gonna do? Russians? But Marie gives me an exasperated sigh, knowing exactly what we’re going to do.

“I don’t have to play nice. This was your idea,” I remind her.

“Yes, it was. Can you just walk us back down the aisle now, please?”

“Anything for you, Princess,” I say.

Alek throws his arms around me, crushing me in a bear hug that almost breaks my heart. Finally, we’re home. Finally complete. With Stosh gone and the Pakhan ready to retire, our lives are now on a course toward joy and happiness.

But Stosh was right about one thing, what else could a man possibly ask for?





THE END





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Turn the page for a bonus book, “Billionaire Brothers,” the complete serial!





TAKEN


Billionaire Brothers - Book 1

Meg Watson





CHAPTER 1


IN MY DREAM, Kevin was saying something about work, some story about a new home listing. I listened politely and he kept talking, getting closer, nodding as he recounted a list of attributes:

desirable Telegraph Hill location

nine bedrooms plus one

triple-wide lot with mature olive trees

And somehow that all seemed like extremely important information. As he continued, each item took on more meaning:

butler’s pantry with wet bar

double-sided fireplace

travertine marble-tiled loggia

I was rapt with interest, hungrily wanting to hear more. Something told me if I could put all the separate pieces together, a secret would be revealed and that would change everything. He nodded urgently and whispered into my neck:

two-story rotunda

silver-leafed, vaulted living room ceiling

caterers’ kitchen

Every detail raised the stakes on our passion. His eyes burned blue and he licked his lower lip, diving to plant breathy kisses all along my collar bones that thrilled me with goosebumps.

imported Italian spiral staircase

greenhouse conservatory

plastered arches

His arms encircled me, drawing my body closer to fit all along his on the bed. We seemed so perfectly connected. Everywhere our skin touched there were tiny electric shocks. I draped my thigh over his hip and pulled him on top of me, luxuriating in his warm, solid weight pinning me to the mattress.

bridge and bay views

hand-laid marble floor medallions

french-bricked wine cellar

My body rocked against his as I felt his cock hardening magnificently along my belly. I wanted him inside me so urgently that I wriggled underneath him, trying to reposition our hips to meet. He kissed my chest and the upper swells of my breasts, licking my nipples languorously, luxuriantly.

But my belly burned with a deep hunger. I needed more contact. I tried to pull him up to me, but he slipped ever downwards. I wanted to kiss him. My shoulders were cold in his absence. I wanted him to cover me, but he inched toward my feet and wouldn’t respond.

I wanted to beg him, but the words wouldn’t come. I clawed at his shoulders, but he only did what he wanted.

I woke up. The spasm of a near-orgasm clenched in my clit and I heard a mewling sound unravelling in my throat. Did I wake myself up whimpering?

I was so close to coming that my body continued to rock and arch. Kevin’s lips were partly open and slack. His musky scent floated over the sheets like a fog. I wanted to taste him before the dream ecstasy slipped away, to draw it back.

Wriggling closer to his sleeping form, the heat through his cotton boxer shorts reignited my skin. I needed him close. Much closer.