38. Emily

Isit down low in the passenger seat as Simon heads towards the oasis's exit.

There was nobody outside when we hustled to his truck. No guards, no family, no random thugs with guns, just the silence of a quiet city street. Simon's grip on the steering wheel turns his knuckles white, and I taste anxiety in the back of my throat. He gestures for me to keep low, and I sink down until I'm nearly on the floor. His eyes are plastered straight ahead.

Normally, when we leave the oasis, Simon stops and chats with the men stationed at the entrance. Everyone seems to like my husband, or at least they're really good at pretending. I've watched Simon hold long conversations with random guards more than once, and a few times he's even sent money to their families after hearing horror stories about illness and lost jobs.

Which is why it feels so strange when we reach the end of the oasis and he doesn't slow down. Nobody comes out to stop him though, and we merge onto the next street, Simon hitting the gas and speeding away from the cluster of houses his family controls, the only home he's ever known.

We don't speak for a couple of minutes. I sit up and watch the city pass by, starting to feel like this was a bit anticlimactic, when Simon breaks the silence.

"We're being followed," he says, staring into the rearview mirror.

The next few hours are spent careening around Chicago from one neighborhood to the next. Even though I grew up in this town, I feel lost almost right away, as Simon works to shake the tail then makes sure they can't pick him up again. At first, it's exhilarating, like we're living in a spy novel, but when ten minutes turns into an hour, and an hour turns into two, I'm ready for the damn book to be done.

It's after three in the morning when we pull into the parking lot of a boring-looking apartment complex on the edge of the river. The structure looks new, like it was built in the last few years. It's big and glass with lots of right angles and exposed wood. Simon rolls the truck to the far side of the lot away from the street and parks.

I'm exhausted. My adrenaline is all gone and I'm running on fumes. I lean on Simon and limp along on my throbbing ankle as he uses a fob to get in through the front door. It's a short ride on the elevator to the third floor and into a nondescript apartment in the very center of the hallway.

He announces that we're home and tosses the duffel bag on a couch. The place looks like it came fully furnished already. Everything smells like a furniture warehouse, like it hasn't been touched at all. The kitchen's gleaming and the bathroom is pristine. I shuffle into the bedroom and collapse, pulling my knees up to my chest, and squeeze my eyes closed.

Simon climbs in behind me. I exhale as he wraps an arm across my body and pulls me tightly against him, his breath playing against my neck.

"I'm not going to let anyone hurt you," he says very softly. I turn to face him and can only just make out his expression in the dark. There's the dull hum of the air conditioning filtering in from a nearby vent, and everything feels like a dream, a strange dream.

"I feel like I've been doing this for a long time now," I whisper and touch his cheek with the back of my hand just to feel his scruff and the heat of his skin. "Ever since my dad got scammed, I feel like I've been running from one fire to the next. I'm just waiting for someone to reach out and grab me, to rip me off, to take away everything I have, and you know what's sad? I feel worse for whoever decides I'm worth their time. Because I have nothing."

He grunts and kisses me softly. "Don't talk like that, baby. Things are going to be okay. We're stuck now, but at least we're safe."

I chew my lip and pull him closer, burying my mouth against his. "You don't get it." I kiss him deeper and move down to his neck, peppering my lips across his throat. "I've been trapped for so long already, but with you it's like even when we're on the run, at least I feel like I'm alive and like someone cares about me."

I reach my hands down his chest, questing down between his legs. He's already hard and pressed against my thigh.

"You didn't sign up for a civil war," he says and his tone is thick with emotion, both desire and pain. I start to stroke him and bite his lower lip.

"I don't care. Don't you get it? What happened to my dad robbed me of all my trust in people. Then you came along and you made me this absolutely crazy offer, and I just… I took the leap. I decided to go on faith."

"I feel like I've failed you."

"But you haven't." I push him back and straddle him. I take off my top and throw it aside as his hands come up to palm my breasts. I shiver, moving my hips, arching my back and grinding my ass against his thick, hard cock. I balance myself with my hands on his chest. "You made me a promise and you kept it. Things didn't work out the way we planned, but you held to your word, even when I thought you shouldn't, and now you're going out of your way to keep me safe. You could've handed me over to your dad and been done with me, but you didn't."

I lean forward and kiss him. He lets out a soft growl, grabs my body, and rolls me over until he's pinning me down. He kisses my neck, my chest, sucks a nipple hard before burying his mouth over mine. I moan as I move my hips tighter into his and I know I sound like a lunatic, thanking him for not killing me, but in so many ways he taught me that I can trust people again. Simon Bianco, a mafia prince, a man who married me only to get what he wants, has become the only person in the world who I believe in with all my heart, and it's strange how that has flipped my life upside down.

And how much I love it.

"I'd do more for you, topolina," he whispers as he kisses down my body and slowly peels off my pants and my panties, leaving me stark naked. He kisses along my inner thigh, sending sharp pangs of desire into my core. "I'm going to do more for you. Because now there's no life without you."

I moan as his tongue slips up and down my slit and he slides two fingers deep into my pussy. I grind into him, head buzzing with his words, there's no life without you, and I've never felt more wanted before, and I've never felt something so right. He fucks me with his fingers and licks my clit as pressure builds in my head, pressure from pleasure and from knowing that we're in this together now, that whatever we have is going to survive this mess, and I come on his mouth in a rush of bliss and love so heady I nearly pass out.

"I'm not done with you," he says, kissing me, making me taste myself on his mouth as he takes off his jeans and rolls me onto my belly. He spanks my ass hard and lifts my hips as his cock teases me up and down. My heart's racing and I need him to fuck me more than I've ever needed him before.

"Remember when we first met?" I whisper in the darkness and look over my shoulder. "Do you remember that bag of toys?"

He smirks at me and leans forward to grab my hair. "I remember, baby. Do you have any idea how badly I wanted to tie you up right there under my desk? I wanted to bind you to the damn floor so I could fuck you like a beast."

"I want you to do that," I whisper, staring into his face as he pulls my hair. I whimper, arching my back, pussy dripping wet. "When we're through this, I want you to put me in a blindfold, tie my hands behind my back, and use me."

"Baby," he purrs and his rock-hard cock presses against my entrance. "Are you sure you can handle that?"

"Please?" I whisper.

And he thrusts inside me. His cock slips deep into me and I release a strangled groan as I take my fill of him. He fucks me like that, holding onto my hair, palm slapping my ass, his growls in my ears.

"You want me to use you?" he whispers as he takes me from behind. "You want me to fuck you like a little toy? I'll make you beg before you come, baby. I'll tease you and I won't be gentle about it."

"I want that," I groan. "I need it, Simon."

"You need my big cock fucking you nice and deep. You need me making you come. You need to be a filthy fucking girl for me, don't you? Because I'm the only man who can make you feel this good."

"Oh, god, yes," I say as he fills me again and again. Sweat drips down my back and between my breasts, and I'm bucking back against him. We're fucking in a tangle of sheets and need, lost in the deepest part of the night, in a strange room, in a strange apartment, and none of it matters except for him taking me from behind.

He moans and drags me on top. I ride him as he licks my nipples, sucks them, squeezes my ass and spanks it. He makes me suck his fingers, makes me lick my wet pussy from them, and groans as I do it. I love making him feel good almost as much as I love when he makes me feel utter bliss, and it's building deep at the base of my spine as I glide my pussy up and down along his length, pushing myself deeper and deeper.

"I love watching you come, baby," he purrs, and his fingers dig into my hips as he thrusts into me. "I love the way your mouth falls open. I dream about fucking your mouth while you come. Maybe I'll fill your lovely little pussy with a toy while you suck me nice and deep. God, you'll be so beautiful and messy, a gorgeous body aching to get fucked, isn't that right, baby? Tell me how much you love this. Tell me how messy and dirty you are."

"I'm so filthy," I moan, eyes rolling back. "I'm a fucking mess for you." And I come again, an explosive pleasure rocketing down my spine, and as it's nearly over, he rolls me onto my back and pumps deeper into my pussy, the sudden angle change shoving me back over the brink as his orgasm mingles with mine. He fills me, hot and beautiful and right, and we both lay panting together tangled up in each other, and I couldn't care less where he begins and I end, because there's only us right now.

It takes a little while before I can speak again. Once I find the words, I kiss him softly, both of us sleepy and barely staying awake. "I just want you to know that I never expected you to blow up your whole life for me."

He smiles like that's the funniest thing I've ever said. "That's exactly why you're worth blowing up my life."