Serpent King's Bride: A Dark Mafia Romance Trilogy

“Drive faster,” she urged, her voice thick with arousal. Her fingers moved with practiced ease, a silent symphony to which only we knew the rhythm. The sight of her so wanton beside me sent my pulse hammering against my temples, every beat a drum calling me to claim her once again.

“Good girl,” I murmured. “Now fuck your hand. I want you to feel yourself.”

Her soft moan filled the car, mingling with the hum of the engine and the rush of the San Francisco streets blurring past us. The tension coiled within me, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.

As we swung into my driveway, her breathing crescendoed into a symphony of pleasure. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect—or more maddening. I killed the engine and practically leaped from the car, slamming the door shut behind me. With a press of a button, the garage door rumbled closed, sealing us away from the world.

I rushed around to her side, yanking her door open. Abby was flushed, her dress still hiked up, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She looked like sin personified, and I was ready to worship at her altar.

“Come here,” I rasped, voice thick with lust.

I reached for her hand, pulling her out of the car, and before she could find her footing, I brought her fingers to my lips. The taste of her was intoxicating, a reminder of the power she held over me—over my body, my heart. I savored the flavor, licking her clean, my eyes locked with hers. The air between us crackled with intensity, the connection electric and undeniable.

The stairs creaked beneath us as we ascended, our lips locked in a desperate dance. The urgency of our kisses was primal, as if each one could be the last. Abby’s hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, and I clung to her like she was my lifeline. I thought about how different it all could have been—how I would have shown her the world, not just the shadows of it.

If she hadn’t seen the darkness that cloaked my life so early on, would the light between us have burned brighter or fizzled out altogether?

“Hey,” Abby whispered, breaking our kiss as we reached the top of the stairwell. She searched my face, her brow creasing with concern. “You’re a million miles away right now. What’s going on?”

Her voice yanked me back to the present, and the weight of the evening came crashing down on me. Kenny’s threats echoed in my head, a stark reminder of the knife-edge we walked upon. “Just thinking about how close we danced with danger tonight,” I admitted, my voice rough like gravel.

“Too close,” she agreed, her voice soft but edged with steel. Her fingers traced my jawline, grounding me. “But we’re here now. Together.”

“Yeah.” My hand found hers, squeezing gently. “Together.”

That word felt like a promise, a vow that no matter what the night threw at us, as long as we had each other, nothing else mattered.

I pulled Abby into me, our bodies fitting together as if they were made for this sole purpose. My lips found hers in a deep, slow burn of a kiss that spoke volumes more than any words could. Her hands tangled in my hair, and I felt her surrender to the moment just as I did.

“Abby,” I said, our foreheads resting against each other after our lips parted, breaths mingling in the charged air between us. I peered into her eyes, those pools of warmth that had become my salvation. “I love you.” The words were heavy with the weight of truth, each syllable a testament to the raw emotions churning inside me. “I can’t…I can’t imagine my life without you. You’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

In response, she gave me that smile, the one that lit up even the darkest corners of my being. It was all I needed.

The intensity shifted, flaring into a passion that consumed us both. Our hands moved with a shared urgency, peeling away the barriers of clothing between us. Each piece shed was a layer of the outside world falling away, leaving us bare and vulnerable in the best possible way.

Naked together in bed, I slid home, thrusting deep inside her. Our gazes locked, an unbreakable connection that transcended the physical union of our bodies. God, I adored her. Every inch, every scar, every imperfection—she was mine to worship. And as I moved within her, I made a silent vow to spend my life doing just that, no matter how short it might be.

“Abby,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

She reached up, her fingertips tracing the line of my jaw as she pulled me closer. The tenderness in her eyes was almost enough to undo me, but the raw need pulsing through my veins urged me forward, deeper.

The rhythm we found together was frenzied, a dance of desperate desire that escalated with each thrust. Our bodies moved in perfect sync, chasing the edge of ecstasy until we teetered on the brink. Then, like a dam giving way, we crashed into a shared climax that rocked us to our core.

A strange ache blossomed in my chest, sharp and poignant, as if my heart were somehow breaking from the sheer intensity of what I felt for her. But I ignored it, choosing instead to lose myself in the moment, kissing her through the waves that pulsed through us both. Abby clung to me, her nails digging into my back, and I reveled in the sensation.

In the proof that she was here, she was real, and she was mine.

I only got my head back together when it was over, skin to skin, breath to breath. I felt like I’d had a momentary lapse in sanity—couldn’t remember the drive home or our dance, other than the sound of her breathing, her moans. My chest ached like my heart was full to bursting.

I peeled myself away from the warmth of Abby’s body, a slight chill in the air causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. The afterglow was still bright within me as I stood, intending to clean up. But then I caught sight of something startling in the full-length mirror opposite the bed—just a glimpse, but enough to send a jolt through my system.

My eyes narrowed on the reflection of my chest, where inked scales ran like a river, the dragon’s teeth sharp across my pec. The eye—normally a jet black void amidst the twisting, dark lines—seemed to glisten with a crimson hue. I stepped closer, disbelieving, and touched the spot.

Sure enough, my fingers came away smeared with blood.

The dragon…it was weeping blood.

I rubbed at it, wondering if this was even real, hissing out a breath at the searing pain when I touched the wound. No—something had cut me while we were making love.