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In one word, he would intentionally hurt her sometimes with his decision, that was a given considering his occupation, but he would try his utmost best to make Arianna happy, and the one thing he would never do is to lay a hand on her.

As the Mafia Lord of the Luciano clan, he would have to keep up with his reputation, but Marcel knew the clear difference between respect and fear. Arianna would respect him, but there would be no need to fear him. He would have to earn that respect as well.

Her mother feared his father, she did not respect him. Not that the fool knew the difference because he was too drunk on the control he had on her, on everybody. Good thing, he was smart enough to see through his manipulation and games.

To Marcel’s surprise, Arianna only pulled him closer, wrapping her leg around his waist and pulling him closer as they lay side to side. She smirked, “We would make terrific parents,”

“You mean, you,” He hinted that she was better than him.

Arianna rolled her eyes, “You’re already daddy material, Marcel. Don’t underestimate the goodness in you even though you’re strangely set on making yourself the bad guy.” She couldn’t understand him sometimes, honestly.

“I’m the bad guy, Arianna,” He insisted, and just when she thought that it would turn into an argument, Marcel grinned at her instead, “And you didn’t tell me you’re into daddy stuff.” His grin was now naughty.

“What?” She went red in the face, “No way,” Arianna tried to disentangle herself from him, but Marcel only rolled her over so he was on top of her and the man was as sexy as hell. Damn, he was so good-looking it should be illegal, especially with his bed hair.

.....

“Tell me you want me to be your daddy,” He told her, his eyes twinkling with dark, delicious promises of what was to come if she agreed.

“Never!” Arianna chuckled, trying to fight him off, but Marcel only laced their fingers and pinned them to the bed, above her hair. He had her defenseless.

“Just say the word, Arianna!” He demanded, now hovering over her.

“In your dreams, Marcelo,” Arianna stood her ground. There was no way on earth she was calling him “daddy”, not because she couldn’t, but because she can’t let Marcel have his way every time. Fine, she admits it, it was a tad bit embarrassing.

“Don’t dare me, Arianna!” He growled playfully into her ears, the heat from his lips causing her to draw a sharp breath while her clit throbbed.

Arianna didn’t even realize she wasn’t breathing anymore when she said challengingly, “Why don’t you make me?”

And something changed at that moment, the playful ambiance in the room turned intense... somewhat erotic.

Marcel released a sharp breath as if whatever she just said, turned him on. He leaned back, his hard abdominal muscles flexing while the look in his eyes was equivalent to a storm, a heated storm that would engulf her while leaving nothing behind.

Before Arianna had the chance to say anything, he ground his hips against her throbbing core and a moan left her lips, her eyes hazy with desire. Oh no, the doctor said it would be best to practice abstinence.

But Marcel’s lips were on hers before she could say the words out. He kissed her hard and greedily, punishing her for daring to provoke him. Arianna was left at his mercy as he freed his other hand, holding her still with a hand this time while he dug the other one into her hair. His tongue asked for permission, but Arianna denied him, as if she was going to make this easy for him. But she should have known who she was playing with.

Marcel yanked on her hair and that slight moment of pain was all the time he needed to part her lips with his tongue as he tasted her sweetness. He deepened the kiss, dominating her as he devoured her lips with no care to breathe. Who needed air when it tasted this good.

But then, his phone rang loudly, startling the both of them such that Arianna was able to free her hands. However, Marcel didn’t give a care as he kissed her neck, burying his face in the crook of her neck and sucking on her sweet spot while the phone rang on and ended.

“Marcel...” Arianna couldn’t even comprehend what she was about to say anymore. She knew there was something important she needed to tell him, more like inform him, but it slipped her mind. Each time Arianna tried to remember, Marcel kissed them away.

Right now, Marcel was tugging on the hem of her shirt, his hands slipping beneath to cup her breast when his phone rang again and he released a string of curses against her lips. She would have found that sexy, however, the call seemed to be important.

“Pick the call, Marcel,” She said in between a moan.

“It can wait,” Marcel said stubbornly, rolling her shirt up as his lips traveled from her flat stomach to the space between her breasts. Her tits were held secure by her lace bra she knew Marcel liked and his eyes shone with appreciation.

He pulled the shirt above her head and he was about to kiss her nipples probing against her bra when the phone rang again and Arianna knew it couldn’t wait anymore.

“Just pick up the damned phone, Marcel!” Arianna was running out of patience and thankfully, her senses began to function at the last minute. She and Marcel shouldn’t be doing this, unless with protection.

“Fine,” Marcel reached for the phone, death awaiting whoever was on that line until he saw that familiar number and he froze instantly.