Sweet Prison: An Age Gap Mafia Romance (Perfectly Imperfect Book 10)

Consummate inner peace. That’s what lying in bed, with my body spooning Zahara’s, feels like. Despite us being practically intertwined, I tighten my hold around her middle, needing to feel her even closer. I wasn’t kidding when I said I wished I could handcuff her to my side. I want her with me. Always. Even now, this absurd urge revs up another degree, and I squeeze her to me harder. She wriggles slightly. Immediately, I loosen my hold and bury my nose in the tangle of her light-brown hair, inhaling long and deep.

Her hair actually reminds me of liquid honey. It shimmers with different shades in the light. At first glance, it might seem like a simple darker hue, however, under intense scrutiny, the golden strands appear here and there. Beautiful. Radiant. Enticing. I’ve known women who spent good money at salons to get that sun-kissed streaky look.

Highlights. They are called highlights.

Yes. Highlights. But not her.

I know Zahara can’t use hair dye because it irritates her skin. She wrote about it in one of her letters. And I remember every detail she ever shared with me. Even things she wrote before, when I hardly paid any attention to her inconsequential prattle. Somehow, it all still stuck.

Using the tip of my finger, I carefully push aside a few tendrils that glimmer like spun sugar, uncovering the warm honey tresses hidden beneath. There’s even a hint of red in her silky hair. But also, whiskey-colored locks that match her smiling eyes. So many tints, so many layers, it’s hard to know what to expect. Just like with my Zahara.

I press my lips to the delicate skin between her shoulder and the column of her neck. So, so soft. The craving to nip it consumes me, drives me out of my mind. I want to bury my teeth in that softness and mark that perfection as mine. The temptation is powerful, but I resist it, restricting myself to only another kiss.

“What time is it?” Her voice is sultry, luscious. The hushed, melodic notes make me instantly hard.

“Still early.” My mouth trails down her arm, kissing every inch of the sensual sweetness that makes her who she is.

Does she realize how utterly alluring every part of her is? Her voice. Her skin. Her lush, mouthwatering curves that I can’t seem to stay away from. For days, I’ve been walking around with a constant hard-on, dreaming up ways I could unleash this barely restrained desire upon her.

Just do it. Roll on top and plunge into her pussy in one powerful thrust. Revel in the feeling of your weight crushing her into the mattress, cage her in your embrace. Fist a handful of that glorious hair, pull her head back to get to her delectable throat. Or turn her around and take her from behind. Do it where anyone can see. Mark her! Claim her! Fuck her hard. Unleash the wild brute. Just like you want to.

You mean, like you want to? Not gonna happen, man.

Why not? She’s given all of herself to you. Why can’t you do the same?

Because… she doesn’t know you, asshole. She only knows me. This… mild side of me.

We are one and the same. Two sides of the same coin. You can’t separate us.

Enough with the psychobabble. I’ll never allow her to know that darker part of me. She’s pure. Untainted. I could never be rough with her. You, my friend, are reserved only for other people.

Hypocrite. And a coward. That’s who you are. In matters of the heart, it’s all or nothing. You can’t expect her to only love a part of you.

Give it a rest. I won’t yield.

Suit yourself. But know this—she’s tougher than you think. And by withholding the brutal side of yourself because you don’t think she can handle it, you’re treating her the same as those bastards in the Family did.

That’s not true.

You know it is. Oh, and one more thing. She already knows me.

What?

Silence. The deviant asshole in my mind decided to shut up.

“Get back here and fucking explain,” I grumble.

“Explain what?” Zahara twists to face me, spearing me with her questioning gaze. “What do you need me to explain?”

“Nothing. I was just… arguing with myself. I do that a lot.”

“Yeah, you told me.” She kisses the edge of my jaw. “What was it about?”

A shiver runs up my spine as her long manicured fingernails rake over my chest, leaving red marks across my skin. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I’ve been rock-fucking-hard since before I woke up, but now my dick feels like it’s gonna explode. I force myself to take another calming breath, all so I can stave off the overwhelming urge to bury myself in her gorgeous pussy in one thrust.

“Stock market fluctuation. He wants me to invest in government bonds, instead.” My voice sounds gravelly because I’m barely holding it together. It can’t happen!

“Mm-hmm. It must be a riot being in your head. Do the two of you discuss anything else? Or only business?”

Rolling on top of her, I snake my arm around her waist. “Sometimes.”

“What’s he like? This other you?”

“He’s a mean fucker.” My hand captures her left breast, and I lean down to draw her nipple between my teeth. I won’t bite, even though I want to. Instead, I flick it with the tip of my tongue. “Ruthless. Dangerous.”

“He sounds fun. Maybe you could let him out to play?”

My cock finds her entrance. Bracing my weight on my elbow, I carefully ease inside. She’s so fucking tight I nearly black out every time I slide into her silky heat.

“You won’t enjoy his games, angel.”

A sharp sting zips up my arms when she buries her nails in my shoulders. It almost pushes me over the edge. Almost.

“How do you know?” she pants.

“Trust me. I just know.” With my gaze locked on hers, I slide deeper into her warmth while watching for signs of discomfort. Slowly. Carefully. I push all the way in.

Zahara’s rosy mouth parts on a soft moan. Her lips are trembling. I pull out, all the way to the tip, but then slide back in. Painfully slowly. It’s the sweetest torment, and I manage to maintain the languid pace as I gently fuck her. The sounds she’s making are driving me wild, tempting me to speed up my thrusts. No, I can’t, I repeat over and over until she finally starts to fall apart in my arms. As her pussy squeezes the life out of my cock, and her body is racked by spasms, I lose it.

I plunge inside. Once. Twice. Hard, powerful thrusts. Bottoming out on every entry. I can’t stop. She’s mine! Mine!

Zahara chokes on her breath, mouth falling open with a silent scream. With my orgasm barreling down on me like a runaway train, I still try to slow down, try to pull away for worry I’m hurting her. My efforts are in vain because Zahara locks her ankles around my waist. I’m not going anywhere. Except to heaven. My restraint shatters, and I fall off the edge.

Mine! The echo of my thoughts thunders across my mind while my angel quivers in blissful glory. I wrap my arms around her while I pump her full of my cum. Marking her on the inside. She’s mine. My freedom. My peace. My Zahara.

Both of us are still panting, utterly out of breath, when I dip my head and press my lips to hers for a quick hard kiss. “I’m so sorry I lost control like that, baby. I’ll be more careful next time.”

“But I liked it.” Her eyelashes flutter as she looks up at me. “Loved it.”

Yeah, she’s likely saying that so I won’t feel like a piece of rabid shit. Fuck. Going forward, I need to be more subdued.

After another deep breath, I kiss her. This time, much more tenderly.

***

“Fucking Bulgarians,” I mumble as I take a turn onto the side street and almost collide with a semitruck driving in the middle of the road. “Fuck!” I lean on the horn as I swerve around him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

I swear, the requirements for getting a driver’s license must have loosened over the years because it seems as if no one can follow the rules of the fucking road anymore.

Even though the unexpected meeting with Kiril ended with me getting my point across, I’m still pissed over the shit he tried to pull. Bumping the percentage of his take by three to eighteen? Yeah, not gonna happen. Friend or not—a deal is a deal. And I reminded him of that. With my fist. The crazy bastard just laughed as he wiped blood off his busted lip, then made me throw back a glass of rakia with him.

I’m doubly pissed off because the fucker’s antics took me away from Zahara. He called just as she and I got out of the shower, and I left shortly after, prepared to deal with the “urgent matter” Kiril insisted we needed to discuss. I assumed there was a major issue with our money laundering, but instead, he simply felt like riling my ass up. Next time I see him, I might clock him another one just for spoiling my morning with my girl.

I wonder what Zahara is doing now? My foot itches to step harder on the gas pedal so I can get back to her faster.

As I’m pulling up to a red light, the phone in my pocket starts buzzing again. It’s been going off for the past five minutes, but with dodging the idiots on the roads, I couldn’t answer it before. Cursing, I fish it out, seeing the screen light up with Peppe’s name.

“Boss.” His tone is urgent. He sounds concerned. “I just got back to the house, and Iris told me that Miss Veronese has taken one of the cars and driven away. She doesn’t have her security detail with her.”

“What?! Who let her leave?”

“I’m sorry, this is my fault. The men are well aware not to let anyone enter the property, but I did not relay any instructions about stopping her in the event she decided to leave.”

“Where did she go?”

“I’m not sure, but Iris says she heard your lady speaking on the phone with her sister, and they mentioned the Public Garden.”

I cut the call and hit the gas.

Zahara

“I don’t think this is what Lucia meant when she mentioned wanting to see ducks,” I say, watching my niece.

Lucia is glaring at the line of cute bronze ducklings following behind their mother along the cobblestone path. Her little fists are propped on her hips like she’s ready to chide us all for misleading her. The “Mallard” family has been a kids’ favorite feature in the Boston Public Garden for nearly forty years, but it’s obviously not measuring up to Lucia’s expectations. Her dad is beside her, looking rather lost and confused about what he should do.

“Yeah.” Nera laughs next to me as we lounge on a nearby park bench. “Kai promised her we’ll have ducks at our new home, but we’re still looking for the perfect place.”

“If he’s going to buy you horses and make sure Lucia has her ducks, it will need to be somewhere outside the city.”

“Yup. Likely at least a couple of hours out. If you decide to come live with us, you could probably have an entire floor to yourself.”

“That’s sweet.” I accept a bag of shelled, roasted, and salted pistachios Nera offers and take one of the scrumptious earthy nuts. “Although, as I already told you, I’m staying with Massimo.”

“Why? And why him, of all people? Why would you want to live in the same house as—” Her fair complexion suddenly loses more color. “Oh my God. He’s making you stay! What is that jackass holding over you?”

I look away, focusing on the sun setting behind the canopy of trees at the edge of the park. It’s long overdue, but I owe my sister the truth. Can’t keep giving her my vague answers.

“My heart,” I whisper and make myself meet her distraught stare. “He holds my heart.”

“What?” she gasps, incredulity screwing up her face. “Zara… Massimo is our stepbrother.”

“I know.”

“That’s all you have to say?” my sister chokes out and grabs my hands. “How did this happen? When? Were you visiting him in secret?

“We exchanged letters while he was in prison. For years. The day of Dad’s funeral was the first time I set my eyes on him.” I look down at my clasped and twisting hands. “You and I, we’re quite a pair, don’t you think? You fell in love with a guy whose name you didn’t even know. And I, well… I fell for a guy without really knowing what he looked like.”

“For the love of God, Zara! It’s not the same. I, at least, knew what kind of a person Kai was. We met up for nearly a year. Spent time together. Got to know each other, face-to-face. How in the world could you fall in love without meeting him first?”

I sigh. “I fell in love with his mind. He was so cunning in his letters. So devious.”

“Oh, he is certainly that! Devious and cunning. He’s also an epically arrogant, ruthless bastard.”

“Yes, he is. But there’s so much more to him. The strength of his will. His strategic mind and sheer determination. All those qualities left me in awe. Every single time. He’s so damn smart, Nera. He ruled Cosa Nostra for two decades without anyone ever suspecting a thing.”

“You knew? For how long?”

“Yes.” I swallow and entwine my fingers with hers. I need to tell her everything—now—because I’m not sure I’ll have the courage to bring it up again. “I spied on Dad for him. And after Dad died and you took over… then… I spied on you.”

“You… spied on me?” Nera’s voice is filled with confusion, but more than that, hurt. “For Massimo?”

“Yes.”

She starts pulling her hands from mine, but I capture and squeeze her palms harder, then finally gather the nerve to meet her gaze.

“I did it for you. And for Lucia.” I sniff. “You may think you know Massimo, but trust me—you don’t. He was never going to let you leave, Nera. Your marriage to Leone was just ‘phase one’ of his plans for you. So, I offered him a deal he couldn’t refuse, in exchange for your freedom.”

Shock. Disbelief. Anguish. The emotions cross her face. Each, in turn, makes me feel worse than the other.

“I’m so sorry, Nera.” I wipe the tears that run down my cheeks. “Please, please don’t hate me.”

For almost a full minute, my sister simply stares at me. Time drags, it feels like a decade passes in silence. When she closes her eyes and a long exhale escapes her, I expect her to pull away. But she grabs my shoulders and crushes me to her instead.

“I always wondered how the mean donkey-hole knew everything that was happening. I even suspected he had someone planted in our staff who was somehow reporting to him.” Her words are muffled by my hair. “I should have guessed. Always knew that my quiet little sister is so much more than she lets people see.”

“He’s not mean, Nera. Massimo is just… Massimo. And he’s never pretended otherwise.”

“Hmm. For your sake, I hope that’s true.” She looks at me pointedly again, as if trying to find more answers. “Dear God, Zara. How did you manage to fall in love with our stepbrother? And only through letters?”

“There were a lot of letters,” I mumble. “Over the years, about three hundred between us.”

“Jesus. And I thought my relationship with Kai started in an off-the-wall way.”

“You’re not gonna call me crazy? Or tell me that it’s just a silly crush and I’ll get over it soon?”

Nera leans back, finally releasing me from her assessing stare, and sweeps the loose strands of hair from my face.

“You’ve never been silly, Zara. Actually, I’ve often wondered how you’re not my older sister.” She smiles. “So, if you’re telling me that you’re in love with that raging shitgoblin of a man, I believe you. What the hell do you see in him, though?” Her grin stretches from ear to ear. “Because it can’t be his sunny personality. God, I still shiver remembering him laying into me with that booming voice every time I went to see him in prison,” she says with an exaggerated shake of her head and shoulders.

I laugh. “Yes, he has a bit of a problem controlling his temper. But if you try to get to know him better, you’ll see that he’s really not that bad. Sometimes, it’s almost like he has two different personas, and he rarely lets people see that other, softer side of him.”

“Well, I’ll take your word for it, because my brain can’t make that leap at the moment.”This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

Lucia’s happy squeal resonates from the path, and we both look over, watching her run around the row of duck statues while her dad chases after her.

“Massimo is worried how the Family will react if they find out about us,” I say.

“He’s right to be worried. You know how stuck-up and conservative those people are. Blood or not, you two are considered siblings. Familial kinship is the most important social value for Cosa Nostra. They will crucify you, Zara.”

“Probably.”

“Are you sure he’s ‘It’ for you? Because if he’s not, and the two of you eventually part ways, no other Cosa Nostra man will ever come near you. You know our world as well as I do. A woman who dares to have a relationship before marriage is frowned upon. I shudder to think what would happen if that woman chose to do so with her own stepbrother.”

“Massimo is my soulmate, Nera. He’s the other half of me. I can’t even imagine myself with any other man because it’s always been him. And honestly, I don’t give a fuck what others might think about me. I’m done hiding, worrying about everyone’s opinions, their judgments, their pity. Massimo just sees me. Just me. And he gets me. Better than any of those people who’ve known me all my life.” I sigh. “The problem is, Massimo is afraid I won’t be able to endure their scorn… or the malice that’s bound to follow. But I know I can. And I’m willing to face it all to be with him.”

I look at my sister, expecting her doubt to show on her face. There’s none, though. Only quiet understanding, and maybe a bit of curiosity shining through.

“He’s so harsh with everyone,” I continue. “He yells, shouts at the slightest provocation. Except with me. With me, he’s always tender and kind. Not once has he raised his voice at me. I love that… How different he is when we’re together. But—and don’t misunderstand me here—I’m not saying I want him to yell at me… It’s just… sometimes, I feel as if he’s trying to shelter me too much. As if he’s afraid I won’t be able to handle him. The real him. Protecting me from himself, kinda like he’s protecting me from La Famiglia.”

It’s never more apparent than when we make love. He is so gentle. So careful with me. I love it, but at the same time, it makes me feel fragile. Like I’m too delicate for him to be himself. However, I’m neither weak nor breakable. Not anymore. And I want all of him. The good, and the bad, and hopefully, the naughty. I can take it all. Want it all.

“And can you?” Nera arches her eyebrow. “Handle the real him?”

“Yes. I just wish he’d realize it, too. But I’m afraid he might not.”

“ZAHARA!”

I nearly vault off the bench. With my heart caught somewhere in my throat, I jerk my head from side to side, looking around the park grounds. I’ve been present for an array of Massimo’s shouting stunts. The spectrum of intonations and decibels his vocal cords were able to hit in those moments defied logic, but I’ve never heard this particular quality in his tone. It feels like the ground beneath my feet is quaking from the sheer power of his voice.

“DAMN IT! ZAHARA!”

Frantically searching, I try to locate the source, but it’s nearly impossible. The whole park seems to be reverberating with Massimo’s thundering voice. On the paths, parkgoers stand frozen, only their heads and eyes swinging around in a panic. Kai, however, with Lucia on his hip while he’s shielding her as much as he can with his arm and body, is scurrying toward us at top speed. His right hand is already inside his jacket, clearly gripping the gun in his holster.

“You said Massimo never shouts at you,” Nera mumbles next to me.

A small smile pulls at my lips. “He doesn’t.”

I notice him then. Emerging from behind the trees, eating up the distance with his huge strides as he hurries toward the bench where Nera and I are sitting. The sleeves of his gray shirt are rolled up, revealing the bulging muscles of his inked forearms. When he stops before us, his nostrils flare and his chest rises and falls in quick succession as if he’s sprinted through a marathon. The expression on his face is one of outright fury. But the deep wells of his dark eyes look more than slightly terrified.

“Angel,” he says as he grits his teeth, all while he spears me with a glare. The tension is rolling off him in waves, but his voice is back to the throaty soft timbre he always uses with me. “Care to explain…?” he continues in that same docile tone.

I’m just about to answer, when—

“WHAT THE HELL POSSESSED YOU TO LEAVE THE HOUSE WITHOUT YOUR SECURITY DETAIL, ZAHARA?”

I barely manage to suppress a grin. “I wanted to visit my sister and niece. As you can see, Kai is here, and we’re all perfectly safe.”

Massimo throws a look over his shoulder at Kai. For his part, Nera’s husband is now right next to my unhinged man, looking rather homicidal himself, even with a giggling toddler in his arms. The sight seems to make Massimo a bit calmer, because his breathing is more even when he turns back to me. “I don’t trust strangers with your safety.” His tone has reverted to the honeyed quality he reserves for me.

“Kai is not a stranger.”

“YOUR BASKET CASE OF A BROTHER-IN-LAW IS ABSOLUTELY INCLUDED!”

His yo-yoing between violent outburst and soothing manner is so comical, I can’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing.

“You find this situation funny?”

“Hilarious, actually,” I snort.

“I almost lost my goddamned mind, worried that SOMETHING MIGHT HAVE HAPPENED TO YOU!” He runs his palm over the back of his head. “Fuck. I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to yell at you. It’s just… YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME!”

I steal a look at Nera, who’s been patiently watching this whole exchange. There’s bewilderment written all over her face. Then, I glance at her husband.

Kai’s forehead remains furrowed as he observes Massimo with caution. “What the fuck is wrong with him? Is he brain damaged or something?” he asks.

“For your information, if there wasn’t a child present, I’d brain-damage you, Mazur,” Massimo snaps.

“Okay, that’s enough.” I leap off the bench and grab Massimo’s hand. “Let’s go home. We’ve caused enough of a scene.”

Massimo broods the entire time I usher him along the paths toward the parking garage at Boston Common. I, on the other hand, am still fighting to keep my laughter at bay, and losing big time.

“I’m glad you’re finding my mental breakdown entertaining,” he grumbles as he opens the passenger door of the car I borrowed and motions for me to get in.

“Sorry.” I chortle. “Where’s your car?”

“It’s… around. I’ll have the guys come back to pick it up,” he says and then makes the trek to the driver’s side.

He doesn’t start the BMW when he slides behind the wheel. Instead, he takes a deep breath and laces his fingers with mine.

“I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have raised my voice.” Taking my chin between his fingers, he slams his lips to mine.

The kiss is hard. Claiming. His teeth are nipping my lower lip while he slides his palm along my chin to grab my neck. Oh sweet Jesus! I never expected a hand necklace to be my thing. As he lightly squeezes my throat, I feel the delicious pressure all the way in my clit. My heartbeat skyrockets. Goddamn! More. I want more. I’m ready to beg, and a small moan escapes me as I lean into his hand, but his fingers are already lifting.

“Sorry, baby.” His hold on my neck dissolves immediately. The next moment, his kiss transforms. Becomes softer. Tender. His velvet tongue gently caresses my own. It’s a great kiss, and I still enjoy it, yet a small wound breaks open in my chest nevertheless. He’s taking it easy on me. Again.

When his lips finally lift off mine, and he leans away, I stare into his stormy eyes. There is so much passion brewing there. Desire. Unsated hunger. This man could devour me with his eyes alone. And I want that! But I also want to feel all of his raw power. Want him to stop suppressing his lustful fire and let us burn.

But it’s obviously not going to happen now. His strokes on my chin are already back to the barely-there touch of before.

“We should get going,” I sigh.