When it Raynes: A Dark Mafia Romance (Frost Industries Book 1)

My heart beats so hard in my chest it hurts. Rayne’s grip on my wrists is punishing, and if I didn’t already know how seriously he took my health and safety, I would be afraid he was going to hurt me.

But that’s the problem. I’m not afraid. Not of Rayne. Not of what he just told me. Not at all, and that’s why I’m freaking out. Because despite the revelation that the man holding me is a murderer, I still feel safer than I have in my entire life.

Rayne’s words have heat pooling between my legs. I’m still wrapped up in his robe, and completely naked underneath. He could be inside me so quickly, I likely wouldn’t even register the movement until I was already impaled on his cock.

It’s not until I notice his smirk that I realize I’ve stopped moving, stopped fighting. “I think you like that idea, don’t you, sweet girl?” His teeth sink into my shoulder, tearing a gasp from my throat.

“No,” I whisper the lie, not trusting my voice to be convincing.

“Never lie to me, Emerson. I can read your body, and I know your pussy is fucking dripping without having to touch it. You’re just as powerless to me as I am to you.” He shifts me in his lap like I weigh nothing at all, until my ass presses into his very obvious erection and takes my breath away. “Do you feel how hard I am for you?” he asks on a breath. “You don’t know how badly I want to bend you over this table and fuck you so hard you can’t breathe without me.”

A shiver of lust works its way through my body and gives me away, because truth be told, I want that as well. But no matter how badly I want him and all his filthy promises, I can’t allow myself to give in to temptation.

Rayne’s arms relax slightly around me, his cockiness is his downfall. He thinks because I’m so turned on I can barely breathe that he’s won me over, but that’s the furthest thing from the truth. It’s because my body wants him so badly that I need to run as fast and as far as I can from the dangerous man who holds me.

I take a shaky breath and try to think past getting out of Rayne’s embrace, but I can never think straight when his hands are on me. The way I’m sitting on his lap limits the amount of power I can use to make a break for it, but I’m going to have to make it work.

It takes everything I have to throw myself out of his embrace, my bare feet slapping against the hardwood floors as I round the other side of the couch, needing to having something substantial between us. Realistically, I know it won’t stop him. The man is a literal killer, if he wants to catch me I have no doubt in my mind that he will. But maybe if he sees how much I don’t want this, how badly I need to get away from him, maybe he’ll let me go.

Even as I think it, I know it won’t be that easy. Rayne has claimed me, and the longer I spend with him, the more I come to know what that means. Fighting is pointless. But I have to try. I can’t allow myself to fall in love with a monster without kicking and screaming until my lungs give out.

Rayne stands slowly from his seat, a chuckle clawing from his throat. “Now where do you think you’re going, sweet girl?”

I take a step back, and then another, and then another. The door isn’t that far away, but everything that comes after is where things start to get complicated for a number of reasons. First being that I’m in a bathrobe that drags along the ground it’s so big on me, and I’m naked underneath it. All the other roadblocks that come after that are much more of a concern. Even if I can make it to the door, I would have to then make it to the elevator and close the doors. Then I would need to escape the building, in the bathrobe, without being captured. Under normal circumstances, with a normal man, I’m sure that wouldn’t be all that difficult, but you’re not the second in charge of a mafia family without having security. And then even if I make it out of the building, where the fuck am I going to go that Rayne won’t find me?

He has the resources to find me anywhere I go, and that fact sends chills through my entire body.

“I need some time,” I tell him. “I need to process this.” It’s partially true at least. I do need time and space, but not to process what he’s told me. I’ve processed it. It’s well and truly processed and now I need time to plot an escape.

I don’t want to leave Chicago. In fact, that’s the last thing I ever want to do, but I don’t think I’ll have a choice. The Saint James family runs this city, and even if they didn’t, I’m not safe here. Angelo Russo is after me, and that’s a fate even I can’t begin to contemplate. It’s one thing to be in a relationship with someone of Rayne’s profession, but Russo is worse in every way. Even if I hadn’t heard things on the street, I knew he was bad news when someone as terrifying as Rayne had nothing but fear in his eyes as he told me all the reasons I couldn’t go back to the club.

“No,” Rayne says simply. His body is calm, but it’s the barely contained possession in his eyes that catches me off guard. He’s about a second away from losing his mind, and maybe that should worry me.

I stare at him for a moment, my mouth opening to respond to his blatant refusal of my basic human rights to leave. “What do you mean, no?” I cross my arms over my chest in a sign of defiance.

“I told you, Emerson. There’s nowhere you can run from me that I won’t find you and drag your ass right back here. You don’t get to put distance between us, because the more space I give you, the more you’re going to overthink things, and that’s the last thing either of us needs. So no. No space. No time to process. This is happening.”

If I were speaking to anyone other than Rayne, I might think he’s joking, but I’ve been on the receiving end of these looks before, and he’s serious. The look says ‘I’m as serious as a fucking heart attack and there’s nothing that can change my mind’.

“You can’t just say no, Rayne. I’m a human being and if I tell you I want to leave, that’s what’s going to happen.”

Something dark crosses his features and takes my breath away. “No. You are mine, and I don’t take kindly to anyone taking what belongs to me away. Not even you.” His words are quiet, but there’s no mistaking how serious he is, and that’s fucking terrifying.

“Rayne,” I whisper.

“No, Emerson, that’s enough. You’ve been trying to back out of this from the moment I told you that you were mine. Every time I leave you on your own for any amount of time, you start doubting everything I say to you. So I’m not going to give you that chance anymore.”

I feel my mouth drop open, but I don’t have any words. What he’s saying sounds a lot like I’m his prisoner, and surely that’s not what he’s trying to get at.

“Now, I understand you’ve had a rough night, and I know I’ve thrown a lot of information at you, some that may color your opinion of my family and I, but you already know I’m not going to hurt you. You know your safety is the most important thing to me. This is happening, and I suggest you get used to the idea.”

I don’t know what makes me do it, whether it’s the last of my independence telling me to fight like hell or all the adrenaline that has settled in my body making a reappearance, but I make a break for the door, running as fast as my legs will carry me.

In the distance, I hear Rayne’s heavy footsteps behind me, but I don’t stop running. My fight or flight instincts are flaring and I’m just along for the ride.

I feel like I’m in one of those dreams where no matter how fast I run, I don’t seem to get any closer to where I want to be, but sadly, it’s my reality.

Just when I think I’m actually going to make it, the door only a few feet away, I feel the warmth of Rayne behind me and a moment later I’m slammed into the door, his body pressing into mine. I feel every hard edge of him and it makes my heart race for an entirely different reason.

“Tut-tut-tut. I told you that you couldn’t run from me, so what do you do?” Rayne growls, his hot breath whispers over my neck and sends shivers down my spine. His hardness pushes into my back, making it hard to draw in each breath. As if he isn’t imposing enough, the way he looms over my body, makes me feel so small, but so safe it disturbs me to my core. “I think my girl needs to be punished. I think she’s begging to be shown just how serious I am.” His whisper is deep and menacing and sets something primal off deep inside me. “Is that what you want, sweet girl?”

“No,” I lie.

Rayne’s hand moves from the door to my throat but doesn’t put any pressure in his grip. “Don’t lie to me, Emerson.”

“It’s not a lie.”

Rayne chuckles. “Your body tells an entirely different story. The way your breath is coming in short pants, your body is pressing back into mine, and you’re not making any attempt to free yourself. Your head wants you to think you don’t want this, don’t want me, but your body is telling an entirely different story.”

I force my eyes closed as I realize he’s right. I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want Rayne right now. In fact, I’m pretty sure if he stops touching me, I’m going to stop breathing.

“Now here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to calm down, you’re going to stop fighting, and you’re going to take your punishment like a good girl. The longer we put this off, the worse it’s going to be for you, because I have a feeling you’re going to earn yourself a lot of punishments.”

I push back into him, some of the fight I felt only moments ago returning. I can’t let him do this. I can’t let him punish me like an insulant child. I’m a grown ass woman who was almost raped tonight. What I need is to get myself home, curl up in my lumpy bed, in my damp apartment, and wallow like any self-respecting twenty something.

“You can’t punish me, I’ve done nothing wrong,” I hiss.

Rayne chuckles. “You and I both know that’s a lie. I gave you a very clear direction to call me if you were hurt or in danger, but you didn’t even think to call me when Russo almost drugged you and grabbed your wrist so hard it bruised. And when I told you I would pick you up for tonight, did you wait, or did you make your way there? And because I didn’t pick you up, you walked out on a fucking stage and spoke to hundreds of people with no fucking panties on. And last, but certainly not least, when I told you not to run from me, when I told you that you were mine and that was the end of it, did you still run? You’re begging to be punished, sweet girl.”

Before I can respond, Rayne hauls me back against his chest and turns me toward the bedroom. Logically I should be fighting because I shouldn’t want this man, in fact, I should be terrified of him, and yet the evidence of my need for him is sticky between my thighs.

So I don’t fight him as he carries me through the penthouse, or even when he throws me onto the huge bed facedown, and when he grabs a hold of my wrists and secures them to the headboard with restraints I don’t remember seeing when I was in here earlier, I lay still and let him do it.

“No claws, kitten?” Rayne chuckles as he shoves a cushion under my hips before his warmth disappears.

A bolt of panic shoots through my body as I realize I’ve just let the most dangerous man in Chicago, a mass murderer for that matter, tie me to a bed to punish me. “Rayne,” I whimper as I tug at the soft leather cuffs around my wrists. They’re attached to the headboard through rings I’m pretty sure were designed for this, and that scares the fucking life out of me.

He hovers over my back, his erection pressing into my ass. “I’ll never give you more than you can handle,” he assures me. “If it gets too much, I want you to say ‘red’, okay?”

I nod against the pillows, an uneasy feeling settling over me. I’ve never given up complete control in the bedroom, never let a man tie me up, or blindfold me. And yet the word doesn’t touch my tongue. I don’t even consider using the out he’s given me.

“I shouldn’t have to remind you, Emerson.” Rayne pushes the robe up until my ass is bare to him, the cool air of the room sending goose bumps over my skin. “I need your words.” He kneads my ass roughly.

I swallow the groan that claws up my throat. “Yes, I understand.”

“There’s my good girl,” Rayne praises and heat floods my core. His words turn me into liquid butter and make me want to comply with his every instruction. If that’s not the biggest indicator of how much trouble I’m in, I don’t know what is.