Shattered Vows

“Self–”

I pulled him along off the dance floor and down a hallway. We passed a powder room and the silent auction set up on a large oak table in a grand dining room.

We turned a corner and found a door cracked open. I pulled us inside. Books lined the walls, all maroons and greens and hard covers that must have been first editions. The desk in the middle of the room, sitting on a Persian rug would do just fine.

Pulling Bradley against me, I kissed him hard. I backed up to the desk so my ass could slide onto it when the time came.

He tasted of comfort and safety, like Bradley always did. He smelled like the ocean where I felt at home.

I clawed at his back, wanting more of a rush, wanting to feel what I felt with Bastian. I wanted Bradley to grip me hard like he owned me and tell me I was his.

None of that happened. Bradley idly stroked his tongue over mine, caressed my arms up and down like we had all the time in the world.

I bit his lip and he smirked before pulling back. “You sure you want to do this with me, Mo?”

“Of course I do. We’ve done it a million times before.” I hopped up on the desk and pulled him between my legs. “We can have some fun on this old guy’s desk and then leave this terrible party.”

“It’s been fun enough.” He lowered his mouth, kissed me again, and I ground my hips into him and moaned.

Bradley tried. He really did.

We made out a little longer, but when I unbuttoned his pants, he stopped me.

“You don’t want this type of revenge, Mo. I can tell. You’re stiff as my surfboard and I’d take the revenge fuck, but I don’t think you’d enjoy it half as much as I would.”

I slumped on the desk and shut my eyes. “Bradley, I wish you were more of a jerk.”

He chuckled and pushed some of my curled hair back from my face. “I’m gonna catch a ride back to the tiki bar soon. Take a minute and then you go find that suit and tell him to stop fucking around, okay? I’ll see you out on the waves another day.”

I bit my lip and nodded as I stared down at the silk of my dress.

I pounded a fist on the desk, my frustration bursting. This was the point of tonight, to release the tension between us with others.

I wasn’t supposed to want Bastian. I needed to want anyone.

The problem was I still felt his hands on me, still knew the sting of his palm coming down on my ass and still knew exactly how he gripped my thigh and squeezed it the morning after I’d got off in front of him. Bastian owned my sex drive, and I wanted to take it back.

Glancing at the large door, I noticed that Bradley had pulled it mostly closed.

My fingertips grazed the silk of the expensive dress I’d bought. So sleek and soft, it slid like caramel over my thighs. Just the way Bastian caramel eyes would look at me, would caress me with a stare.

I made another quick decision. I wanted my own release and I was going to take it. I moved fast, slipping a hand into the slit of my dress and under my panties.

It only took a minute of imagining Bastian’s lips on mine, his rough hands running over my skin, and his grip in my hair when I hit a high.

Eyes closed, I moaned out his name, seeing the stars I reached for.

I could do this for a couple more months. I could get off and be done with all of this sooner rather than later.

“You enjoy yourself?”

I jumped off the desk and stumbled on my heels right into Bastian. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

“You wanted to have an evening with other people and we did. Did you enjoy him?” Bastian’s question came out callous, his tone mean.

“How long have you been in here?” I hissed, ready to meet his mean with my fury.

“Long enough to know you didn’t like him enough, ragazza.” His nickname for me sliced through the air.

“Did you watch?” My eyes bulged. Did he see me get myself off? I didn’t even consider it. “Where’s your date? You have fun with her?”

I tried to smooth a wrinkle in the silk dress as I waited for his answer.

“Of course I did. She’s good at what she does unlike yours.”

Something pierced my heart, it cut through so quickly I almost didn’t feel it but the bleed out was painful.

“Great,” I whispered and it came out like a deflated balloon. I wasn’t going to stay here and let him gloat. I wanted to get home and I wanted to wash the night off me. He could have all the women he wanted.

I wasn’t doing this marriage for him anyway. I had to remember that.

“I’m going to grab my jacket.” I tried to rush past, but he caught my arm.

“You always gasp my name when you cum, ragazza?” His words whispered over me and my whole body tightened for him.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“You heard wrong.” I lifted my chin defiantly. Fuck him and his ego. I’d never moan it again after this. “I don’t moan for a daddy when any hot guy can get me off.”

“Come on, Morina. Don’t lie.” He yanked me back and spun me so my front was pinned against the wood desk and my ass was against his cock. “Want me to show you how it’s really done?”

“You’ve had your fun with someone else tonight.” I gasped as his hand shoved my dress to the side.

His five o’clock shadow rasped against the nape of my neck. “You wanted dates, not me. It was your idea for Elizabeth to be on my arm.”

“You agreed.” I panted out as his hand dragged up my side.

“I didn’t have her, Morina. I wouldn’t when all I wanted was you. Here. In this dress.” He kneaded my thigh. “Instead, I had to watch you kiss another man. Don’t you know I don’t enjoy sharing?”

“Sharing what?” I whispered.

“Anything,” he growled. Gone was the playfulness. His touch was possessive and his gaze held menace as his thumb flicked fast over my panties, brushing my clit. My body was in overdrive, sensitive after my own orgasm but completely ready for him all the same.

“Bastian, this is an arrangement,” I countered, like I suddenly had to defend myself. Something was different in his touch though. The man on the plane who’d smacked my ass and called me his was back. In this low lit room, Sebastian Armanelli, the head of the mob had come out to claim what was his.

We were in uncharted waters that I didn’t know how to read. As he hummed against my neck and ran his hands over my body, I said, “You wanted it to remain professional. This is the best way. Both of us are getting a release somewhere else. I can find other men–”

“You won’t find the right one, ragazza. You know it. So do I. You’re wound tight and can’t find a release with anyone because you’ve finally had me.”

“Bastian, this wasn’t the plan,” I said over my shoulder.

His tongue slid across his teeth like he was shining them before taking a bite of my resolve. “Isn’t it though?”

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