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Was there a part that bored or that you didn't really like in the book?

Even a character, a scene, or anything. You could say no if nothing bothered you.

Which was the part you liked most in the book?

Even a character, a scene, or anything that you enjoyed.

Do you like reading retellings or would you rather read original stories? *

• I like retellings.
• I prefer original stories.
• I like reading both.

Would you feel triggered by a plot in which the male main character sexually assaults the virgin female main character? *

• Yes, I would stop reading immediately.
• Yes, and I would want a trigger warning for it, but I would keep reading.
• No, I'm okay with this kind of content in dark romance.

What's your favorite dark mafia romance book?

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Rea

One Year Later

I liked this house better than the one we saw two days ago, I decided. The realtor walked behind me, chattering about the heated flooring and the wall-mounted ovens in the kitchen, while Richie and I explored. “It’s beautiful,” I told her, and I meant it.

I loved the warm cherry cabinetry, such a homey change from the white in both mine and Andy’s apartments, and the huge bay windows that overlooked the backyard. I’d been adamant that we have a home with a yard, somewhere the kids could play that let them actually feel the dirt underneath them, and this lakeview home definitely had that. It wasn’t large, this was Chicago after all and space was a valuable commodity, but it was big enough for a decent play set and that was all I needed.

It would have had more backyard space if it weren’t for the full, semi-detached mother-in-law suite, which was far more important to us. Mom deserved a little more privacy, a space of her own where she could decorate however she pleased, and while the kitchen was on the small side, the bathroom was nice and there was a room with great natural lighting that I was sure she’d want to turn into a studio space. It would be so good for her to have a real space to do her art in again.

In the main house there were a total of seven bedrooms, five of them on the second floor and two of them on the third. Richie wanted one of the ones on the third floor but I told him he had to wait until he was thirteen. That was about the age kids really started wanting their own space to explore and develop anyway, and by then I wouldn’t be so worried about having him on a different floor than us. Hypothetically, at least. So instead, Richie pranced around the second floor, trying to pick his favorite room. He liked the green one, but I reminded him that we could paint any of the rooms green if he wanted and that sent him around the hall again to re-evaluate his options. The only two rooms I told him he couldn’t have, were the master and the smaller, attached room next to it. That would be the nursery for our coming baby.

I didn’t know what to except, but Richie was such a good child, I was pretty sure the universe was going to balance it out by making our second a demon spawn.

Walking around the house I could really envision our life there. We wanted a large family so it was important that we had enough space, and thankfully we didn’t have to worry about how much it would cost.

The master was smaller than the one in Andy’s apartment, but about the same size as the one in mine so it should work just fine for us. The walk-in his and hers closets were a nice touch, but the bathroom is what really sold me. It had a huge soaking tub with a jacuzzi feature, and I knew that even though I was pretty comfortable now, at two months along, by month five that tub was going to be my aching body’s best friend. I’d probably be sleeping in it by the time the due date came around. I caressed my still-invisible baby bump with a smile. Yeah, this was a home.

“What do you think overall, Mrs. Marino?” the realtor asked. I nodded. With mom at the doctor and Andy at work, I was given the power of sole decision making, and a house like this wouldn’t stay on the market for long. As far as I knew, we were the first showing. I turned to the realtor and smiled.

“We’ll take it.”

Richie cheered loudly from the other room, and the realtor grinned. She’d get a good paycheck from this one, not to mention being on the good side of the Marino family. With the Cirenos eradicated we officially owned Chicago—so no one wanted to get on our bad side. Frankly, I liked the perk.

“That’s fantastic! I’m so glad we were able to find a house that suits your needs so well. What would you like to offer?”

“One and a half times the asking price,” I said easily, thinking about what color I’d paint the stair rail. I wasn’t usually so blasé with money, but… “We’re not letting this house get away.”

“Wow! Absolutely, I understand. I’ll just head down to the kitchen and get these papers drawn up while you look around, okay?”

“Papers, you say?” a deep voice said from the end of the hall. My face brightened.

“Andy! You made it!” He grinned.

“I didn’t want to miss it, tesoro,” he said, wrapping his arms around me. “I had a good feeling about this one. Richie?”

“Yeah?” Richie called back, popping out of one of the rooms.

“Do you like it?” Andy asked.

“I love it Dad!” Richie yelled. “Look at this room! I want this to be my room.”

“Then your room it shall be,” Andy said. “I picked Gramma up from the doctor, she’s waiting downstairs. Will you show her around?” Richie gasped and started racing down the hall. “No running on the stairs!” Andy called.

“Yes, Dad!” Richie said, not looking back but deliberately slowing down. We both laughed.

“Why don’t I show Mrs. Sanner her suite?” the realtor asked.

“That would be perfect,” Andy said. “We’re going to stay up here and look around a little more.”

“Of course, sir! Take your time. It’s a wonderful house, I’m so glad you like it.”

As soon as she was down the stairs Andy picked me up with a playful growl, carrying me into the master room and flopping me down on the bed they’d placed there for staging purposes. I bounced, giggling, as he crawled over me.

“Now we’re all alone…” he husked, leaning down to lick up my neck. I smacked at his shoulder.

“Oh my God, seriously?” I asked, grinning.

“Well, we’re buying it, aren’t we?” Andy asked, hands wandering dangerously. “Might as well christen it early.” I giggled and eyed the door.

“Just be quiet,” I said, not bothering to pretend I wasn’t yearning for it. My pregnancy hormones hade me horny at the drop of a hat, and the instant Andy put me on the bed I was already wet and aching. Andy smirked down at me.

“Actually, darling, you’re the one who will be keeping quiet,” he purred, sliding down my body. I raised an eyebrow.

“Andy?”

“Shh, honey. Bite the pillow.”

And then his face was under my skirt, and I was gasping.

God above, he was so good with his mouth. Instantly, like he knew how needy I was, he was latching onto my cunt and lapping at me with an openmouthed enjoyment. I clamped my legs down around his head and shoved my fist in my mouth, readying myself to hang on for the ride. And he took me on a ride.

I worked up quick, the feeling of his tongue parting my folds deeply erotic, like I’d completely forgotten what his mouth felt like in spite of having had it just this morning. It was humid and scorching hot, and probably smothering trapped underneath my skirt, but I’d learned he went feral for my cunt so I doubted he minded. If anything, he probably liked it.

He sighed happily as he traced his tongue around my clit, teasing but not quite touching, even just the minute gust of his breath enough to make my core twitch and clench. “Sweet baby,” he groaned softly, “so wet for me.” I whined into my fist, wordlessly begging him to get on with it. As much as I loved his dirty talk, at that moment I needed my pussy worshipped. Thankfully he was a very devout man.

I covered my mouth, panting through my nose as Andy finally worked his lips over my clit, the first direct touch sending electricity pulsing through me. My sensitivity had gone through the roof to join my libido, and I knew he was relishing it. He could bend me over anywhere, anytime, and guarantee that I’d be a moaning mess for him before he could even touch me.

Abruptly quitting his teasing, Andy attacked my pussy with his tongue and teeth, nipping at the outer lips just enough to pinch a little, and I squealed. My eyes darted to the door, desperately hoping no one heard that debauched little noise and came investigating. Andy, of course, had no such qualms, lolling his tongue out and shaking his head to distract from his fingers joining the fray—in the wrong place. Or, actually, the right one.

We’d been playing around with anal, and I was quickly growing addicted to it. I hadn’t taken his cock there yet—he was entirely too large for that and I needed to work up to it—but a finger or two had become a near constant in our bedroom activities over the last few weeks. He stuck his pointer finger in his own mouth without taking it off of me, coating the digit in a lewd mixture of his spit and my slick, and gently massaged my furled asshole. I finally took his advice, slamming the pillow down over my head to hide my shrieks.

I was humping his head like a dog, pressing up into the heat of his skilled mouth while he pressed at my back entrance. Truthfully, I knew he wouldn’t push it in; he refused to do anything penetrative back there without proper lube, after all. But the pressure was still mind-boggling, the sensitive and underused nerves there making my hips jump. And every time they did, his tongue was there to add to the assault.

My toes started to curl and I quaked, moving erratically as my eyes rolled back. My pussy clenched and unclenched on nothing, Andy refusing to give it anything to fill it up, and as he latched onto my clit and sucked, I felt myself tipping over. I wanted it, I wanted it so bad. Fuck the realtor, she could walk in right now and drop her pants to enjoy the show and I wouldn’t give a fuck. He was so good, he was so so, so good—

I seized up as my orgasm broke over me, quick and intense, unable to even scream.

After a moment the pillow was removed from my face and I looked up at Andy with lidded eyes as I felt him hold his cock to my cunt. He slid it through my slick once, twice, then resumed a furious pace with his hand. I spread my legs wider to give him a good view as he painted my pussy with streak after streak of white.

He pulled up my panties, patting my mound like you’d pat a horse for behaving, making my back arch with a little noise of pleasure. Already I was ready to go again, just the thought of him trapping his cum against my pussy revving my engines, but he pulled away with a smirk. “Come on, tesoro,” he said, tucking himself away with a triumphant little look. “We have a contract to sign.”

I laughed as he pulled me up on wobbling legs, knowing he was going to make me go down there wearing these soiled panties and make small talk with the realtor who may or may not have an inkling of what we just did, and loving it. I took one last look around the room as he ushered me out and smiled to myself.

Yup, this was a place worthy of the next generation of Marinos.