Ruthless Mafia 11

Icaro smiled as his fiancée tried to pull out of his embrace. She was much feistier than he’d been expecting, and he
admitted, he was really enjoying it.
While he was not thrilled with the fact she was out kissing and dating other men, information his team needed their asses
handed to them for not reporting to him, he did like her spunky attitude.
“Why are we at the marina, Icaro? Where do you think you’re taking me?”
He chuckled, “you wanted a date, I’m giving you a date.”
“I do not want to get on a boat.”
“Relax, Zorah,” he loved how her name rolled off his tongue. “It is a simple sunset cruise. I give you my word to have you
back on dry land before the clock strikes eleven.” He’d been avoiding her lately, being so close to their wedding was
playing havoc with his self-control.
“Your word?” she scoffed.
“You will learn if nothing else, I am a man of my word. Now, come back and cuddle with me until we get there. I like how
you feel in my arms.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Would you rather another kiss?” he watched as color bloomed from her collar up her neck to coat her cheeks. She was
truly innocent, and it was breathtaking. She settled back under his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. His world
was dark, dangerous and vile, more often than not the wickedness which surrounded his dark soul spread into the air
around him and dragging the people with him into his depravity. He did not want this for Zorah. He wanted to keep her
untouched and as far away from the madness as he could.
Did it mean he wanted her to be blind to what being a Lucchesi entailed? Absolutely not. He needed her to know who he
was and what he was. He wasn’t going to be able to teach the child they would one day have to be his successor, the way
his father trained him, if the child’s mother was blind to the truth.
No. She needed to know. She needed to fear. She needed to be taught lessons. She was however also going to need to
learn when he laid down the law, as he would, she would need to listen. It was imperative she understood who the boss
in this relationship was.
He knew since he was a thirteen-year-old boy she was born to be his. Nobody was going to take what was his away from
him and if the silly moppet mumbling under his arm thought she could run from him to deny him what belonged to him,
she was wrong.
What she didn’t realize, what she couldn’t even begin to comprehend was however as much as she was his, he was hers.
Sure, he’d fucked around, even at his bachelor party on Sunday night. Even today, he’d given someone permission to
suck his dick. He was a man with needs and at this present time his fiancée wasn’t able to meet those needs. He wasn’t
going to be anything like her uncle Ippocrate Gianone who would flog himself to death because he was afraid of sinning.
If he wanted to fuck, he would fuck, until such time as he said his vows.
Then like his father, grandfather and great-grandfather before him, he would be loyal to his wife until death do them part. He’d only teased Zorah when he told her once the baby came, he’d go live his old life. By then she would be as in love with him as he was with her.
He knew a man did not need to love a woman to fuck. It was why he’d never, since the time he was fourteen and fucked
his first woman, did he ever have an intimate loving relationship with any woman. He’d been with lovers but none he would have ever spent an entire night in their bed. He screwed them, used them but never did he ever spend a night
sleeping next to them. No. That would be reserved for his wife and only his wife.
From the minute he’d held her in his arms as a baby, he’d been obsessed with her pale brown eyes. Innocent and curious
of the world, he’d stared into them for hours and even when her mother Zipporah tried to take her back from his arms,
he’d pulled a gun on the woman and told her to fuck off. His father and grandfather had laughed. Zipporah cried while
Ippocrate fell to his knees in prayer. Zorah’s grandparents were still alive then and they hadn’t blinked at his reaction.
They knew. From the old town, they knew. If a Lucchesi staked a claim nobody and no one would ever take what was
theirs.
For years he’d been waiting his chance to taste her and her mouth tasted better than the priciest wine from his
grandfather’s cellars. She was a hint of honey, with a breath of mint. Her scent, oh her scent was excruciatingly divine. Her
shampoo was of cherries, and she still used the same baby powder deodorant she’d been using since she was in middle
school.
He’d watched her far more than he’d revealed to her now. Countless nights he’d sat at her bedside while she slept never
knowing she was there. Nights were she was cold because she kicked blankets off and he would repeatedly put them
back over her bare legs. He prided himself on the fact he never once touched her inappropriately. He never did more
than inhale her delicious aroma. About two years ago he stole a pair of her underwear. She’d gone to a Victoria Secret with Sidonia and purchased her first pair of lace panties. He’d taken them right out of the laundry basket. He’d jerked off
to them in his hand more times than anything else.
Dropping another kiss to the top of her head, he found himself unable to keep his lips to himself now she was with him.
Saturday night could not come soon enough. He would give her his medical notes to appease her mind. Then he was
going to spent hours between her thighs living out all the fantasies he’d dreamed for years.
Tonight though, he was going to make the best of the impromptu date. He’d arranged for the yacht to be ready when
he’d been in the chopper on his way to crash her date. He was going to wine and dine her and if all goes well, while he
didn’t intend to consummate their relationship tonight, maybe, she’d allow him to taste more than only her lips.
As the car came to a halt at the end of the dock, a crooked smile stole his features. He was going to give her dinner, but
she was going to be dessert.
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