Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
My future husband is a predator.
Adriano Marino is the ruthless heir to a powerful mafia family, and he’s everything I was raised to hate.
Vicious and cruel. Obsessed with violence and wealth.
We’re getting married so his money can solve my family’s debt problem.
When that gorgeous monster’s lips brush my skin, he makes me feel like his prey.
There’s no love here. Only blistering physical attraction and possessive domination.
But a long time ago, I was promised to another man. Now he’s back to take what he wants, except Adriano isn’t giving me away.
I’m a pawn in this war and I’m desperate for a way out.
If I want to survive, I have to learn to fight alongside a monster.
Vicious Heir is a full length standalone romance with a guaranteed happily-ever-after. It's the first book in the Marino Crime Family world
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter 1
Lucy
I’ve never been to an orgy before.
The situation just never presented itself until now. Nobody’s ever been like, hey, Lucy, let’s go to an orgy! And I’ve never really wanted to go search one out.
Which is why this is so bizarre.
Normally, Velvet Echo is an upscale nightclub. It’s one of the more exclusive venues in Philadelphia, and I’ve actually been here a few times over the years. Right now, though, it’s totally unrecognizable.
There are beds everywhere. Some are empty, but more of them are full of bodies. Like the bed to my right: a very attractive older woman is getting fucked from behind by an enormously muscular man while she sucks the dick of another well-built guy. She’s making these moaning, gagging noises while the guy ramming into her keeps slapping her pink ass. Apparently, she’s loving it because she screams in bliss as the guy in the front comes on her face, his mouth hanging open.
Everyone’s sweaty and naked. Half of them are wearing masks and the rest don’t seem to care. There are so many different bodies: big ones, small ones, skinny ones, and full ones. Many of them are involved with someone, or a few someones. Dicks in mouths, dicks in pussies, and a few dicks in asses. There’d be dicks in dicks if they could make it fit. There’s one couch of exclusively women, and I watched them viciously reject at least three different guys that tried to get in on their group. Another couch is all men. They’re more welcoming.
I’m extremely thankful for my wristband. So long as I have it on, nobody will bother me. It’s marked with a blue line, meaning I’m off-limits unless I approach someone. There are other wristbands with various different colors, some denoting kink, some denoting sexual preference.
A woman with a black wristband is pleasuring at least six different men. One dick in her mouth, a dick in each hand, a dick in her pussy, and more dicks waiting for their turn. It looks more exhausting than anything else, if I’m honest, but she looks like she’s in mindless bliss, so good for her.
I sit at the bar and drink. It’s all I can work up the nerve to do. I’m not here to partake in the fucking. No, I have a very specific task, but so far, I’m basically failing.
Grandmother’s voice plays through my head: find your future husband and figure out what he likes, then use it against him.
Leave it to my fucked-up family to make attending an orgy an act of espionage.
Adriano Marino should be here somewhere. Velvet Echo is his club, and he’s the one that throws this little gathering. Once a month, this place turns into a den of sin and excess, and only the richest and most powerful people in the region get an invite. I’m not sure where Grandmother found mine, but I’m not surprised she managed to procure one. Helena Willing-Morris is one of the most conniving and dangerous people I’ve ever met in my life. And she basically raised me.
A few feet away, a gorgeous black woman rakes her fingernails down a skinny pale man’s chest. He’s not wearing a mask, and I’m pretty sure I recognize him, but I quickly look away when the woman starts slobbering on his dick. It’s actually hot and impressive, but I’m feeling overwhelmed by all the bodies. I thought I’d get desensitized after an hour, but nope. Whenever I feel like I’m getting used to it, some new coupling smacks me right in the face.
I start to feel overwhelmed. I down my wine, head spinning. My mask is too tight, like it’s trying to choke me, even though it only covers the top half of my face. That was also my grandmother’s decision. Show the lips, girl, it’s one of your very few good features.
I get away from the bar. Four women are taking turns servicing a guy on a bed to my left; a group of six people are intermingling, legs and arms tangled, sucking and licking and fucking each other. I walk faster, past two attractive men going down on a masked woman while she sucks a third’s dick, past two men taking turns fucking a woman while another woman licks her nipples, past too many more combinations of sweaty bodies until I find a staircase. I take it up, hoping beyond hope to find some freaking reprieve from this nightmare.
Only to find the VIP area. Except tonight, it’s the bondage area. A man’s tied up and leashed while a woman’s whipping him lightly and calling him a pathetic loser. A woman’s wearing intricate ropes like a dress while a man glides his dick into her mouth, using her like a doll. I turn toward a quiet hallway and practically start running; too much stimulation really messes me up, and this orgy is basically nothing but.