monster made & broken (a mafia bad boy romance)


Title Page




Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

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Made & Broken



By Nora Ash

Copyright 2015 Nora Ash

All Rights Reserved


No parts of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any format or by any means, without the express and written permission by the author.
This is a work of fiction. Any and all likeness to trademarks, corporations or persons, dead or alive, is purely coincidental.

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I’ll kill to protect her. And then I’ll make her mine.



They always called me crazy. Sociopath. A monster without a conscience.

I always thought they were right. I've never backed down from anything, and the only thing that has ever soothed the monster in my chest was killing.

Then she walked into my life. The woman who seduced me so she could sell my secrets to my enemy.

I should have killed her, but when I looked into her eyes I knew she was the only one who could save me from myself.



It was supposed to be an easy job: seduce a ruthlessly handsome man and steal his pen drive while he’s sleeping. Not the worst thing I’ve had to do while working for the mafia. By far.

I didn’t know Marcus Steel was the son of London’s most dangerous crime family—and I didn’t know one night with him meant that every criminal in London would be after my blood.

He’s the only one powerful enough to protect me now, but I’m not sure if that’s what he’s got in mind. I’ve seen what he does to people who cross him.

He’s a monster.

And now, his sights are set on me.


is part 2 of the Made & Broken series, but it has a HEA ending and can be read as a standalone.

This full-length mafia romance contains dark and explicit scenes. Readers beware!

Chapter 1



I knew I was in trouble when my boss didn’t send a regular goon to pick me up.

For the first time since I’d made the mistake of borrowing money from Gerald Brigs, casino owner, mafia boss and all-round scumbag, he came by my flat in person. Not a good sign.

In my one and a half years of service to London’s underworld, I’d learned that any deviation from the norm was never good.

“Evelyn. Always a pleasure, my dear,” said the man on my doorstep. He was wearing a trench coat and a thin-lipped smile that didn’t touch his eyes.

I tried to return the expression, but could only manage a grimace as I swept my gaze over his three companions. The two goons he’d brought as bodyguards I didn’t recognize, but the third man I did.

Where Gerald rarely bothered with his lowliest employees, his nephew, Leo, was the guy who usually briefed me on my marks and dealt with any situations the goons couldn’t. I’d also witnessed what he did to the prostitutes unfortunate enough to work for the Brigs empire. I made it a point to never be alone in a room with him.

“Have I done something wrong?” I asked. Leo closed the door behind the two, leaving their two-goon escort outside. I mentally reviewed the details of the last assignment they’d given me. I had done everything they’d asked, as I always did. I might not have made it to university, but I was smart enough to know what happened to people who disobeyed a crime lord.

“On the contrary,” Gerald said as he took in my studio flat. “You’ve been doing such an excellent job, we’ve decided it’s time to entrust you with something a bit more… delicate.” He reached into his coat and produced a brown A4 envelope.

I took the brief from him, examining its contents. Where normally the envelope would contain a couple of pages’ worth of information on the mark, this time there was only a picture and a series of seemingly random words. I held it up, scrutinizing it to see what was so different about this guy.

The first thing I noticed was that he was exceedingly handsome. His black hair was tousled perfectly, though it was obvious it had required no effort on his part. Dark brows framed his gray, almond-shaped eyes and his cheekbones were strong and defined. If his mouth hadn’t been so soft, his features would almost have been too prominent to call beautiful. But it was—and he looked like a freaking supermodel.

“Er… are you sure I’m a good match?” I bit my lip, feeling oddly self-conscious under the intensity of the photo’s stare. “I mean…”

It wasn’t that I was bad-looking. My figure might have been fuller than what was considered the hallmark of conventional beauty, but my curves had lured enough hapless men into Brigs’ claws that I knew the appeal of my red hair, round hips, and full breasts. But this guy was clearly a class—or five—above mine. I was distinctly more girl-next-door than swimsuit model.

“I mean, he’s probably used to more high society girls,” I finally managed, pulling my gaze from the picture to look at my boss.

A small smile pulled on his lips. “You’re the perfect girl for this job. His name is Marcus Steel, and he has something of mine. A pen drive. I want you to get an invitation to his flat and find this pen drive for me. It’s bound to be somewhere secure, so there’s a chance you’ll have to get into his safe. The list on there are things and people that might mean something to him. Use that to work out the code.”

I blinked down at the list. “How on Earth am I meant to figure out a code to his safe from random words?” I might have plenty of street smart, but solving ciphers was above my pay grade.

Brigs’ smile turned cooler. “Don’t sell yourself short. We’ve been nothing but pleased with your results so far—I am certain you won’t disappoint me this time, either. After all, such a
assignment will cut a thousand pounds off your debt rather than the usual five hundred.”

His tone made it clear that I didn’t want to find out what would happen if I failed. Then the other implied part of the assignment dawned on me and I paled. I had lured men with the promise of my body before, but I’d never had to follow through. Once the poor idiots followed me to the designated drop-off point, Brigs’ goons had always taken over. But if I was supposed to get an invitation to this mark’s home… then there would be no one to intervene. And a guy like that would most definitely expect sex if he brought a woman home.

It was kind of funny—before Brigs, I would have been more than happy to spend a night with a man that looked like this Marcus Steel, but now… When Brigs had discussed how I could repay my loan, I’d been very adamant I wouldn’t work in one of his brothels, which was what landed me my job as a Honey Trap. But deep down, I’d known it would only be a matter of time before they would make me go all the way.

The way Leo treated the other women in his employ, it was pretty obvious no one in the Brigs empire cared about a woman’s right to her own body.

I dug my nails into the palm of my free hand. I knew better than to protest. I’d just have to work out how to get out of any sexual obligations once I was inside Marcus Steel’s home. I might be forced to work for the mafia, but someday I would be free from them again, and when that day came I wanted to be able to look myself in the eye.

I forced a smile on my face as I looked at my boss. “Okay. I’ll get your pen drive back. Where can I find this Marcus Steel?”


* * * *

Chapter 2



was one of the fanciest clubs I’d ever been to. I picked up my marks at clubs often enough, but they were usually the type with loud dance music and a mixture of drugs and semen lining the bathroom stalls.

When I walked up to
, the red carpet guiding the way to the doors muted the sound of my clicking heels, and instead of jarring dubstep blasting out whenever a patron passed through the double doors, the soft, lilting notes of jazz music wafted into the night.

I smiled hesitantly at the huge bouncer taking up most of the step in front of the door. Even though I’d worn the kind of camouflage that would help me fit in here—a black dress that managed to still look classy, even though it certainly marketed my cleavage nicely—I didn’t exactly feel at home. Even when I wasn’t working for Brigs, my usual attire consisted of jeans and a t-shirt. Or, of course, my uniform when I worked my day job as a waitress.
managed to make me feel like I was sticking out like a sore thumb before I’d even gotten inside.

But the bouncer simply unclipped the red velvet rope for me, stepping aside as he let me through.

Thank you,” I said as I passed him, offering him a smile as well.

If he heard me, he ignored me.
Well, suit yourself, Grumpy.

I left my coat with a girl working the wardrobe and continued in through another set of double doors, these ones made from glass with gilded bars functioning as door knobs.

I had to pull myself together to not let my jaw hit my chest at the barrage of impression that washed over me on the other side. At the far corner was a beautiful bar, which looked like it was made from hardwood and polished so perfectly even the soft lighting in the club reflected off it. The plush, deep-red carpet from the entrance and corridor turned to parquet flooring that led to multiple high tables and chairs in front of a small dance floor and a stage. Not many people graced the chairs—it was a Tuesday night, after all—but on the stage a band played the enticing jazz rhythms I’d been able to hear since entering the club.

I soaked in the atmosphere, enjoying the sophisticated ambience as much as the music itself. I’d always loved jazz.

But I was here for a job, and it didn’t involve standing around wishing for things to have worked out differently. I sighed, pulling myself out of the revelry.

A quick scan of the few patrons at the tables told me that my mark wasn’t among them, nor was he part of one of the two couples slow dancing in front of the stage, seemingly lost to the rest of the world. Thank God. That could have been awkward.

I looked back over at the bar and frowned at the flirting couple near the end closest to me. They were blocking my view of the other side of it, so I decided to walk on over and check it out. If nothing else, a drink was always a good way to calm my nerves before I picked up my mark.

On the other side of the couple, a tall man sat at the very far end, one shoulder leaned against the wall. My heart sped up with a burst of adrenaline. Could it be him? I craned my neck in an effort to see him better, but he was facing away. All I could see was ebony hair and incredibly wide shoulders underneath a black shirt.

What can I get you, miss?”

I jolted at the unexpected voice and flashed a nervous smile at the barman. Something about the underplayed extravagance set me on edge, as if everyone would be able to tell I came from several rungs down the social ladder.

Vodka and tonic, thanks,” I said, trying to keep my tone indifferent and effortless.

When he grabbed for the bottle of Grey Goose, I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from protesting. Instead, I smiled sweetly when he passed me my drink and added a generous tip. Brigs always covered expenses, and if Tall, Dark, and Mysterious at the end of the bar didn’t turn out to be Marcus Steel, then I might need the barman’s help to locate him later.

Mustering my courage, I took a quick sip of my drink and then walked over to the seat right next to the guy I was hoping was my mark.

It’s a lovely band,” I said as I slid in on the bar stool, somehow managing to get on it relatively gracefully. Being a short girl doesn’t make wrangling of bar stools an easy task.

Talk, Dark, and Mysterious didn’t so much as spare me a glance.

Maybe he didn’t hear me?

Do you come here often?” Okay, so it was cheesy, but from my experience, it worked.

His only reaction was to take a swig of what looked like cola from his own glass.

Right, then. So he was an arse. I pinched my lips and reminded myself I preferred it that way—my job was better when the guy Brigs had me lure into a trap was a jerk. It made it easier to pretend like he deserved what happened to him after I left him with Brigs’ goons.

Emboldened by my annoyance, I skipped past the usual smalltalk and instead slipped my drink-free hand underneath the bar and onto his thigh, letting my fingertips graze the bulge between them.

The strength of his muscles clenching underneath my touch surprised me—I could
the power in his thigh against my palm and half-expected him to shoot out of his chair.

It wasn’t what I’d expected. Surprise, sure, but the deathly silence from my unwilling companion made an eerie sense of foreboding tingle down my spine and raise every hair on my body. Slowly, I looked up, my irritation with his previous lack of response replaced by anxiety.

Marcus Steel’s ice-gray eyes met mine when my gaze made it all the way up.

Only the man staring down at me was nothing like his picture. Sure, his ruthless good looks were the same, from the black cascade of tousled hair to the soft lips and defined features, but what was
that icy gaze, the photo hadn’t managed to convey. If it had, I would have tried much, much harder to get out of this assignment.

Everything about that look screamed
, making the reptilian part of my brain wake in a shock of adrenaline.

I trembled as every nerve ending strained to its fullest, making my skin so hypersensitive I could feel the warmth radiating from him. The faint trace of his cologne hit my flared nostrils, along with something else. Something unidentifiable that heated the lower parts of my abdomen and made me squeeze my thighs together, even as a primal fear dug its claws in deep.


wasn’t so unidentifiable, after all.

There was no doubt in mind, after no more than three seconds’ eye contact, that this man was trouble.

But he was also one hundred percent alpha male, and despite the overwhelming sense of peril that rushed over me staring into his eyes, my body was seemingly also perfectly in tune with the
aspect of his nature.

The unexpected flood of arousal dampened my initial fear enough that I remembered I probably needed to say something soon.

Hi,” I croaked. Not the smoothest of lines, but given how my hand was still grasping his thigh, too petrified to let go, I figured it was better than nothing.

Marcus didn’t respond, and his face remained completely impassive.

I’m Evelyn Embry,” I continued, my voice still not much louder than a hoarse whisper. The second my name left my lips I could have smacked myself. I hadn’t meant to give him my real name—it was page-freaking-one in dealing with a mark. But his overwhelming presence had made it slip out without conscious thought, and now there was nothing I could do to take it back. Hopefully, he would have forgotten it before he ever realized my true intentions.

His eyes finally moved then, flicking briefly to my hair, across my face and—finally—to my amply displayed breasts, where they lingered for just a second before he looked back up again. His gaze made a hot blush follow the path of his eyes, and I couldn’t hold back a shaky exhale as I stared into his darkened eyes. His pupils seemed larger, as if the light in the room had dimmed, even though the shine from the polished bar told me otherwise.

What you’re selling, little sister, I’m not buying.”

I blinked at the rumbling timbre of his voice. The softness in it completely contradicted everything else about his presence.

I’m not selling anything.”

His eyes briefly landed on my hand on his thigh. My fingertips were still brushing ever so lightly against the bulge of his cock.

No, I’m not… I’m not a prostitute,” I stammered, my blush increasing ten-fold. Yeah, of course he would think the stranger groping him would be looking for a client.
wasn’t your run-of-the-mill nightclub—uninvited touching wasn’t expected.

This wasn’t working out at all like I’d planned. I finally managed to remove my hand from his thigh, placing it awkwardly on the bar between us.

I just…” I looked up into those glacier-cool eyes and felt all my barriers come crumbling down. How did a single person shake me so thoroughly? I felt naked underneath his stare, and it both frightened and aroused me more than it had any business doing. “I wanted to meet you.”


Not the question I’d expect from a guy who looked like Marcus Steel.

You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.” I frowned. “Why do women normally want to meet you?”

His face remained impassive, but the darkness in his eyes intensified, pulling at those warring sensations in my gut: the cold dread of adrenaline, and the hot, champagne fizz of pure sexual attraction. “They don’t.”

I raised both eyebrows. “I find that really hard to believe.”

Finally, he turned away from me, relegating his full focus to his glass as he took a swig. “They’re scared of me.”

Well, that I could believe. I looked back at my own drink, mulling over my plan of attack. Now that he wasn’t staring at me so intensely, I could think clearly again—even if every cell of my body was still keenly aware of his proximity.

want to know you,” I said, glancing out the corner of my eye for a reaction.

Marcus put his glass down, still not looking in my direction.

You’re scared of me, too.” The deep rumble in his voice sent shivers up my back. If he knew I was flirting, he wasn’t responding. But he wasn’t ignoring me, either.

Yes,” I said, deciding honesty was my best course with this man. Gently, I placed my hand back on top of his thigh, a bit lower this time. Again, he tensed at my touch, but not as rigidly as before.

But that doesn’t change the fact that I want you more than I’ve ever wanted another man in my life.” I glanced up at his profile, flustered by the knowledge that this wasn’t just a line delivered to ensnare a mark, nor was it a lie. “Maybe that’s what scares me.”

He looked at me then, and this time, the darkness in his eyes bore the faintest trace of heat. But it wasn’t the kind of lust I’d seen in a man’s eyes before. It was far more volatile, far more frightening than anything I’d known before, and even the barest hint of his desire set my body aflame with unrivaled

That’s not why you’re afraid.”

Is it because you’d try to hurt me?” I whispered, my voice breaking.

His nostrils pulled up, a flash of anger mixing with the heat in his gaze. “No.”

A breath of relief I hadn’t realized I’d been holding rushed out of my lungs. I believed him. I had no idea what it was about him, but something at the very depths of my being knew he wasn’t lying. I grasped my drink and downed the rest of the glass in one, burning mouthful. Then I slid off my seat and stood to face him on shaky legs.


Despite the minimal movement of his mouth, I recognized his question in the gesture.

You’re taking me to your place.” I slipped my hand from his thigh up to his arm, resting it on the soft fabric of his shirt. “And then you’ll let me get to know you.”

The slightest crease appeared between his dark eyebrows, his gaze flickering to my hand on his arm before he found my eyes once more. The desire in his own was more prominent now, and I had to clench my thighs together to quell the sudden rush of warmth blooming out from between them. God, I wanted him. In that moment, I didn’t care about my assignment or Brigs or any of the shit I was mixed up in that’d landed me here. I didn’t even care that that barely bridled ferocity in his icy gaze flamed as he looked me over once more, taking in my curves as well as my face.

You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he rumbled.

Then show me,” I said, swallowing thickly as he stared me down.

Marcus exhaled through his nose. Then, moving as smoothly as a large cat, he got off the chair and held his hand out to me.

Gingerly, I put my palm in his.

When he closed his hand around mine, I knew I would never be the same as I had been before I met Marcus Steel.


* * * *

Chapter 3



Evelyn Embry.

She was not meant to be here, not meant to be with

And yet there she sat, leaning into the passenger seat of my Porsche with her luscious breasts spilling out of her low neckline and the roundness of her thighs easily visible through the tight fabric of her dress.

My cock throbbed, and I fought back a shiver at the memory of her hand grazing against it when she’d so brazenly demanded my attention.

I’d never wanted a woman like I wanted her, from the moment her heat penetrated my trousers and into my skin. It took all I had to not just pull over and fuck her raw on the side of the road, leaned over my car with her dress hiked high around that fine arse of hers.

I clutched at the steering wheel and gritted my teeth.

This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have let her into my car, shouldn’t have taken her hand when she’d told me I was bringing her home.

I had to pull over right this second and tell her to get out.

But everything in me reeled at the thought, the monster in my chest snarling in defiance. It didn’t want to let her go.
didn’t want to let her go.

Her scent, jasmine and honey and
, permeated the air in my car, filling my nostrils until my cock was so hard it hurt. Everything about her made me burn with a need I’d never experienced before.

Why are you here, little one?
I looked at her out the corner of my eye, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Why was she here? She recognized the monster in me; I saw it when she looked into my eyes. She may not have understood
she saw, but her body intuited the danger—there was no question about it. And still, she persisted.

It was too late for regrets. Too late to stop, because the moment our eyes locked, the monster had recognized
I had no idea how, or why—why her, why now—but ever since she put her soft little hand on me, I’d been fighting tooth and nail to keep the monster down. Even now, it was roaring to break free and sweep me away in the liberating rush of oblivion I knew all too well.

I should never have taken her with me. I should have turned her down, should have left and not looked back.

I needed to end this, before she was inside my flat. Before the door closed behind us, with no one there but her and me.

I clasped my hands harder around the steering wheel to steady my thrumming pulse at the monster’s roar of denial.


As I pulled into the parking garage underneath my high-rise apartment block, I knew one thing with absolute certainty: this woman was going to be mine, and there was nothing either of us could do to stop it.


* * * *

Chapter 4



The car ride to Marcus’ flat took place in complete silence, and it was enough for my brain to have regained some measure of control once he opened the door to his penthouse in one of the posher parts of London.

I drew in a deep breath as I stepped past him and over the threshold, catching the scent of his cologne again and that certain something behind it that went straight to my core. It made me shiver, partly from want and partly from the knowledge of what I was about to do.

Marcus Steel was sex on a stick, sure, but he was a lot of other things too. I’d never been in the presence of a human being who could awaken my reptile brain like he did. Gerald Brigs and his nephew might make my skin crawl, but my fear of them stemmed from knowing what they could do to me. With Marcus, it was this unmistakable sense that there was something dark and unbridled right beneath the surface, clawing to be set free.

And here I was, alone with him in his flat. More than willing to be naked and vulnerable underneath him.

I walked further into the apartment and set my purse on the kitchen island, focusing on my surroundings in an attempt at steadying my rampant hormones. As much as I wanted to climb him like a monkey, I needed a moment to collect myself. My body might have been on board with the evening’s development, but I was still here on a job.

I looked around for something to distract me—and found it at the far wall. The entire side of the room was made up of floor-to-ceiling windows, offering the most spectacular view of the city I could have ever imagined. Even in the dark, hundreds of thousands of lights from the streets below twinkled like a second set of stars.

Wow,” I breathed, making my way to the glass so I could get the full view. It felt like having the entire city at my feet. “That is some view.”

Marcus didn’t answer me, but I heard him move further back in the flat. I was too mesmerized by the view to pay him any mind.

I’d known he was wealthy from the jazz club he hung out in, and when he’d led me to his black Porsche it’d been firmly cemented. But this? This was what the one percent lived like. Views like this didn’t come below a seven-digit pay grade.

It feels like everything down there is meaningless—like it’s so far removed, it doesn’t matter. It’s so… peaceful,” I mused, not expecting an answer from my silent companion. Feeling emboldened by the odd sense of calm, I wiggled out of my heels to dig my toes into the plush, luxurious rug that covered the parquet floors underneath a black sofa set. It felt exactly as good as I’d imagined, and I sighed with pleasure and turned to study the rest of the room. I’d been too preoccupied with the amazing view to really pay it much mind.

It was a big, open-plan room consisting of a kitchen by the entrance and a large living room, but it’d been sparsely decorated, the sofa set being the only real furniture in the room, save some bar stools by the kitchen island and a dining table further in.

No decorations adorned the walls either, but when my eyes caught a framed picture by the TV, I did a double take.

A cute baby with dark strands and gray eyes lay sprawled on a lambskin, looking at the camera with a wide smile. The frame was inscribed
August 1, 2015.

Is that… your kid?” Imagining Marcus with a child seemed near-impossible, and if the date on the frame was the baby’s birth date, then it was only a little more than a year and a half.

No.” It was the first he’d spoken since the club, and the rumble of his voice made me look back at him, heat making its way to my abdomen again.

I raised an eyebrow at him. Who the heck had a picture of a kid who wasn’t theirs as the only decoration in their entire living room? “Whose then?”

My brother, Blaine’s.”

Well, that explained the colorings matching Marcus’ so much. I squinted at the picture. “Boy or a girl?”

Boy. His name is Aidan.”

Something softened in his voice when he said the baby’s name, and when I looked up at him, for a moment it was reflected in his eyes too.

It’s funny, you don’t exactly come across as a family man,” I said.

Family’s everything.”

I thought of my mother, the usual stab of sadness making my heart ache just a little. “Yeah.” There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for family—which was why I was in this situation in the first place.

I looked back up at Marcus and my sadness melted away.

The gentleness in his gaze was gone, a dark smolder taking its place.

My body reacted with a delicious shiver, choosing to focus on the obvious lust rather than the danger.

I wanted this—I wanted the raw, untamed parts of him to consume me. I wanted his body against mine, I wanted to taste those luscious lips of his, and to hell with what I’d have to do after.

With a small smile I undid my coat and dropped it on the floor before reaching behind me for my zipper. It came down easily, the sound of it filling the sudden silence in the room.

I felt Marcus’ eyes on me like a molten caress as I let go of my dress, letting it pool to the floor at my feet. I might have felt outclassed when we were in the jazz club together, but not now. He didn’t say a word, but the electricity of his rapt focus sparked in the air around me, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that right now, at this moment, there was nothing in this world he wanted as much as he wanted me.

It made me feel powerful.

I reached up to let down my hair from the pinned updo, letting the ginger locks fall around my shoulders and brush the top of my pushed-up breasts. Even though the black lace bra technically still covered them, they were so indecently on display I was sure he’d be able to make out my nipples pebbling as his silent desire fanned my arousal.

I reached behind me again, this time unclasping my bra and letting it fall to the floor on top of my coat. My panties followed, and then I stood naked.

Marcus’ shaky exhale made me look back up into his eyes, the beginning of a coy smile on my lips. I was going to suggest he follow my lead, but the look on his face made me pause.


He was… scared?

Only then did I notice he’d clutched his hands around the edge of the kitchen island, and that his knuckles were white from the strength he grasped it with.

What are you afraid of?” I whispered.

I want you,” he said, his voice gruff from obvious restraint. “Too much.”

I cocked my head as I took in his posture and the tight set of his jaw. He looked like a man who was doing everything he could to hold himself back. It made warm excitement trickle down my spine and goosebumps of pleasure rise up along my arms. As far as I was concerned, there was no such thing as being wanted
too much
by him, not right now.

I stepped out of my dress and panties, making sure to sway my hips as I walked toward him until I stood right in front of him. I only came up to his shoulders, and their span easily dwarfed even my curvy body, but this close I could practically
the tension roll off him in waves. That someone as powerful as Marcus Steel was afraid of
gave me the confidence I needed to reach up and ghost my palms over his tensed shoulders before I began to unbutton his shirt, one button at a time.

The shaky intake of his breath as my hands skimmed over his hard pecs made me have to hide a smile. Yeah, he was in a bad state. It only made me feel bolder.

Once my fingers undid the last button, his shirt hung open and I had to bite my lip to hold back a gasp of my own. His clothes hadn’t been able to hide the shape or size of his powerful body, but the prominence of the stacks of hard, lean muscles underneath was unexpected. Marcus’ pecs narrowed down into a bulging row of abs, and just above his belt I could see the start of the pronounced V of his hips.

Holy cow.

I mindlessly reached out to let my palms stroke across his smooth body, enjoying the shiver my touch pulled from him. His skin was hot underneath my hands, and when I ghosted across his nipples with the tip of a finger they hardened into tight little points.

My own body responded to his with a flood of moisture.
I needed more.

I reached back up to push the shirt off his shoulders and looked up at his face.

It was still a mask of restraint, but his eyes blazed with desire so hot it nearly set me on fire. Yet still, he wasn’t touching me.

Without breaking eye contact I reached back down, brushing down across his abs and the narrow trail of hair below his navel until I got a hold of his belt.

Marcus moved then, one of his large hands wrapping around my wrist. “You don’t have to do this.”

I want to.” I leaned in and kissed the center of his chest, not releasing my hold on his belt. He shuddered under my lips but held on to my wrist, his fingers spasming as my breath skimmed across his flesh.

Evelyn…” His deep voice sounded anguished, as if holding back was causing him physical pain.

Let go,” I murmured, before brushing another kiss across his chest, this time right above his left nipple. “I want this. I want
Let go.”

He breathed out shakily, letting his hand fall to his side.

My fingers resumed their quest, undoing his belt and then finding the button and zipper of his pants, and all the while I kept my eyes locked in his. Only when I hooked my thumbs in his pants and boxer shorts did I let my gaze slide back down, just in time to see his cock spring free.

Oh, holy—!

I wasn’t aware I’d said anything out loud before his amused snort reached my ears, but I was too preoccupied with staring to be embarrassed.

Marcus was
And hard.

My own body reacted with another rush of slick heat, my nipples hardening into aching points. No longer caring to take things slow I pressed my body in against his and wrapped my hand around his heavy cock. He hissed as my palm connected with the silky skin, and again when I closed my mouth around one of his nipples and gave it a teasing flick with my tongue.

The heady scent of him hit my nostrils and filled my mouth. I wanted him so bad my body ached.

I wrapped my free hand around his back to caress the hard ropes of muscles there while I kissed and nipped my way down his torso, intent on my goal.

For every time my lips touched his skin or my hand squeezed his pulsing cock he groaned softly, and the sound of it only spurred me on. I enjoyed the salty taste of his skin and the way he began to shake as my questing tongue neared its target. He may have been a rich and powerful alpha male, but right then, I was the one with all the power.

I dropped to my knees in front of him and took a moment to enjoy the view.

His cock was so thick I couldn’t quite close my fingers around it, and long enough I’d be able to fit two hands along the shaft with ease. I briefly wondered if I’d even be able to take him in my mouth, but then decided there was only one way to find out.

When I swiped my tongue at the bloated, purple head, a full body shiver went through Marcus.

Don’t,” he gasped.

I ignored him. The taste of his all-male musk ignited a shockwave of desire in my abdomen that spread down my thighs and made ripples of sharp need flood into my already tight clit. Groaning, I wrapped my lips around the tip of his cock and swirled my tongue to taste more of him. I just had time to be pleased with the discovery that yes, I could fit him in my mouth even if it would make my jaw ache within a minute, when a
ripped from Marcus and his hands closed tightly around my arms.

I yelped when he roughly pulled me from my knees, lifting me up and swinging us both around until the kitchen island’s smooth surface connected with my backside.

What—?” My questioning gasp broke off midway through the sentence when he grabbed my arse in both hands, pulled me to the edge of the island, and buried his head between my thighs.

I jolted at the unexpected touch of his tongue diving in between my lower lips, and then groaned unintelligibly as shocks of pleasure followed.

He licked me with broad strokes, teasing at my entrance until my readiness flooded his tongue before he switched focus to my aching clit.

God,” I moaned, slumping back on my elbows so I could arc my pelvis up against his talented tongue. Each flick of it against my tight bundle of nerves sent me higher and higher, and when he closed his lips around it and sucked, I couldn’t hold back a sharp cry.

I’m gonna come,” I moaned in between breathless pants. “Oh,
I’m going to—!”

Marcus gripped my thighs tighter so he could pull my pussy even closer, and I screamed. It only made him intensify his efforts tenfold. He suckled my clit so hard it was nearly too much, almost painful, but he held on to my thighs and arse so tight all my bucking and thrashing couldn’t dislodge him.

I grasped wildly for his hair with both hands, but as my fingers wove into the black strands he let up on my poor clit for just a second, and I used my grip to yank him harder against me instead of pushing him away.

His next onslaught sent me flying over the edge, screaming like a woman possessed.

It took several minutes for the aftershocks to release my mind and body enough that I could let go of his hair, endorphins swathing my mind in the most ecstatic bliss I’d ever experienced.

Wow,” I mumbled groggily as I collapsed down on the counter, my overheated body relishing the cool marble.

When I found the will to open my eyes again, I saw Marcus standing between my thighs, leaning on the counter with both hands and breathing heavily as if he’d just run ten miles. The wildness in his eyes blazed, no longer restrained.