Trapped in his End Game (Series)

“No. Get your ass inside and get ready.”

He smacks me right in the middle of the hallway and gives me a boyish smile.

“Dammit, Vince. Anyone can see us!”

A rich sound rumbles his throat. “Are you trying to tell me what I can and can’t do to you?”

I wouldn’t put it past Vince to fuck me in the hallway. Blood drains from my face, but he only laughs and pushes me inside. Damn, he’s in a good mood.

“Get dressed.”

“I need to take a shower.”

“Then I’ll watch.”

I smile, but he follows me into the bathroom and stands with his arms crossed. Is he serious?

It’s almost like the first time I went to his apartment. A tingling sensation wraps around my skin as I shed my clothes. It comes from his gaze. I brush past him, smiling to myself as I set my ring on the counter. I lean inside the shower to turn it on and step inside immediately, closing the glass door.

Ten seconds pass before the glass door opens, admitting a naked Vince who joins me under the spray. His biceps keep me pinned against him as he lowers his face to mine. His face hangs over me, dripping with water.

“I don’t want you to think about what they said.”

“I can’t help it.”

He moves me against the glass wall. Although it’s cold against my back, Vincent’s body heat surrounds me. That delicious sense of anticipation floods my nerves like whiskey. His hands move across my shoulder blades down my arms, to the curve of my breasts. Electricity sparks over my skin as he gives them a squeeze. His lips capture my moan and then his hand slips down, moving my thighs apart as the water sprays down, washing away all lubricant. Hard fingers push inside me and his tongue slips in my mouth.

He knows my body so well, knows exactly where I like to be touched, and yet he is a mystery to me in so many ways.

Within seconds, I’m moaning loud enough for the whole bathroom to echo. He keeps at it slowly, playing with his tongue as his fingers probe in and out.

Fuck.

“Vince, please.”

Vince regards me under a mop of soaking wet hair. He grins. “Please what?”

You know what.

A flash of irritation makes me twist my mouth. The fingers sink in deep enough to turn my scowl into a moan. “Please fuck me.”

“Why should I give you what you want? You undermine me at every turn.”

I know he’s just playing with me, but I’m desperate to argue. “I stayed at the safe house. I didn’t go out.”

The fingers inside me twist. Oh, God.

“That’s true,” he admits. “Once you’re my wife-”

My face pales at the word.

“I won’t tolerate this disobedient shit anymore.”

I don’t even care about what he’s saying. There are three fingers inside me, and his hand still twists and pulls. An obscene wet sound makes me gasp.

“Vince, please-”

“Not until I hear you say it.” His eyes glitter with that cruel menace I see now and again.

“I belong to you. I’m yours. Everything, Vince-”

He scoops me up in his arms and lifts me. His cock fumbles at my lips before he shoves forward with ruthless lust on his face. The water makes for a rough entrance. He moves up my raw walls, pounding me as he grunts in my ear. The pleasure and pain combine together, so much so that I confuse which is which.

“You’re mine, too.”

He utters a little laugh in my ear. “Yes, I am,” he whispers in my ear. His hips dig into me and I wince. “Always, baby.”

He punctuates the end of his sentence with a ruthless thrust of his hips. His mouth is busy on my neck, but I hear his shuddering gasps. It’s all too much, his naked body writhing against mine, the heat of the water and his mouth, the hard length pulsing inside me.

He grunts in pain as I clench my fingers in his hair. My core contracts and my body convulses as the dam breaks, Vince’s hips hammering it home. Electricity shoots from my fingertips, dancing all over my skin. He pulls out and utters a groan as he grips himself and comes on my stomach.

I slide down his body as he lowers me carefully to my feet. I lean into his arms. Warmth fills my chest when he kisses my head.

“Why would I want anyone else when you give me everything I need?”

I smile sheepishly under his intense gaze and turn around to face the spray. We wash each other laboriously. He looks deliriously happy to be with me, the darkness purged from his mood.

“Where are we going?” I ask him when we’re finally out of the shower.

“I’m not telling.”

I watch in mild fascination as Vince dries his hair and gets ready. It takes him a lot sooner to be done with everything, of course. He’s dressed in a slim, black suit, looking just as delectable as the day I met him. His hands wrap around my stomach as I add the finishing touches to my makeup. I look at us in the mirror and can’t believe my reflection.

I barely recognize myself.Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Come on. The city waits.”

Vince takes my hand and leads me out of the apartment, into the garage to his black BMW. I’ve given up asking him what the surprise is. Is it another dinner? Another mob gathering? What?

Once we’re inside, he takes the steering wheel in his hands but doesn’t turn on the ignition. “I’m sorry.”

Bewildered, I look around at him. He’s still staring into the concrete wall of the garage. “What?”

“I know I’ve made you suffer. Your relationship with your mom is over because of me and I know that sometimes I scare you.”

My jaw drops. He blames himself over the mess with my mother? “Vince, I feel a lot better with her out of my life.”

It’s the first time I’ve admitted it to myself, but it’s true.

“Don’t feel bad about that. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I do scare you.”

“Yes, sometimes.”

“I don’t want to.” He gives me another one of his lost looks, like a scared little boy seeking approval. “I’ll work on it, but I can’t change who I am.”

“I know.” I reach over and touch the back of his head. “I don’t want you to change. I love you the way you are. You’ve always been there for me. Always stuck by me.”

I need him.

“I can deal with it, Vince.”

He smiles, finally getting that bit of approval that he needed.

The car blares with Jazz music as he takes me downtown, all the way into Lower Manhattan, past the 9/11 Memorial. I don’t get it.

“What’s in this part of town?”

“You’ll see. Be patient.”

God, what the hell is it?

He parks the car and I get out before he can walk around to the other side. Grinning mysteriously, he takes me outside where the sky is a deep orange. We’re overlooking the East River. I walk along his side as he takes me into a small building. A dark blue helicopter sits on a square of concrete.

Excitement sizzles through my veins as he approaches the landing pad, where a man in flight gear waits. “Mr. Cesare, this way please.”

We’re going on a helicopter ride?

“Oh my God, Vince!”

“We’re going to take a little ride over the city,” he says, looking pleased that I’m so excited. He leads me to the chopper. “After you.”

I’ve never been inside a helicopter. Hell, just sitting inside one makes me giddy. Vince climbs inside the white leather seats, looking as excited as I feel. I grab the headset and slip it over my ears as the pilot climbs in.

The long blades chop the air like knives, and the engine roars to life. I grab his hand and scream into the microphone as the ground lifts under our feet. The glass dome surrounding us gives the illusion of floating in midair. I watch as Lower Manhattan shrinks into a strip of land. The helicopter flies over the gem-like East River, circling around to fly up the Hudson. We circle around the light green Statue of Liberty, which is so small from this height. Then we’re flying over the concrete jungle. I can see the whole city stretched out in front of me, burning orange with the sun. My whole life is in that small strip of land. We head uptown and the long, green strip of Central Park sprawls next to us. It’s incredible.

Vince squeezes my hand and I beam at him as he passes me a glass of champagne. There’s a bucket of ice near his feet with a bottle dug into the ice. He pours one for himself and I laugh as we bump glasses together. Hours ago, I was huddled in a safe house and now I’m sipping champagne in a helicopter.

I down the glass and set it at my feet. I lift the headset from my ears. It’s loud as fuck, but I want to sit in his arms. My heart pounds as I slide over the seats. My legs slide over his lap as he takes me in his arms. God, I know I’ll never feel as good as I do in his arms. He takes off his headset and presses his lips to my ear.

“I wanted to do it like this. This was how I was going to propose to you.”

My chest constricts as he pulls back with a sad smile. Already tearing up, I fling my arms around his neck and kiss his ear.

“Yes, Vincent. I will!”

I utter a small scream when the helicopter sweeps around suddenly, and Vince laughs.

End of book 1. Hope you’ve enjoyed it. Continue reading for book 2.