Outtakes Vol 1 – The Russian Guns (Filthy Marcellos #1) Read Online Bethany Kris

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Filthy Marcellos Series by Bethany Kris
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Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
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Long, shapely legs were crossed, dangling over the edge of his desk. White pumps with a five inch silver stiletto heel tapped a rhythmic beat to the wood. Her one hand rested to the top of the desk while her other fingered the white fur she wore. The snow fox coat fell to her mid-thigh, but it was opened enough to show the valley between her breasts and the diamond necklace resting at hollow of her throat.

Anton smacked his lips, feeling the dryness of his mouth. It was like someone had shoved a wad of cotton up under his tongue and now he couldn’t swallow or speak. The length of his erection pressed along the zipper of his slacks in the worst way.

Viviana’s painted red lips curved up into a knowing smirk as she regarded him through dark, thick lashes. Heavy strokes of black kohl gave her stare the demure, sexy effect he adored. Blindly, Anton waved at the door to grab and shut it, closing out the rest of the club and the noise. Somehow, he managed to find his voice, though it was hoarse.

“Please tell me you’re naked under that coat, Vine.”

“I am.”

Sweet fucking baby Jesus.

Yes.

He loved his wife.

“There’s no car here for Demyan, is there?”

Viviana smiled, shaking her head. “Nope. That was months ago.”

“So you’re saying I’m distracted,” Anton said, cocking a brow.

“A little. Even worse was how I felt.” Viviana waved a hand toward her heart. “In here. I was all over the place. Exhausted but I couldn’t close my eyes. Pacing all day. It was awful. I can’t explain it, really.”

Anton could. “Crazy. Stir crazy.”

“Without you, yeah.”

Clearing his throat, Anton took a step further into the room. “You couldn’t wait for me at home to do this? You had to trick me into coming to the club?”

Viviana shrugged beneath the heavy fur coat. “There’s so much going on at home. We never have the chance to breathe. Kids, work, and no play.”

True enough. Anton gave her that. “I didn’t say I was complaining about this little ... surprise. Home is nice, too.”

“We haven’t fucked in our bed in a month or more.”

“All the more reason for me to get you there and make up for lost time.”

“Sure. So, when we get home, you can fuck me again in our bed. Right now, I want you to bend me over your desk and do with me what you want.”

“You’re awfully wicked for a woman wearing white.”

“Nobody ever said I was an angel. Are you just going to stand there staring all night, or are you going to get over here and fuck your wife, Anton?”

Anton’s tongue went numb just like the tips of his fingers. He crossed the space between them in four long strides. He knew he must have looked like a predator stalking toward her, but Viviana simply tipped her chin up and bit into her bottom lip, expectantly. His mouth crashed down on hers with enough force to push her back to the desk. Anton cupped her face in her hands, keeping his wife upright.

It had been too damn long since he kissed her in a way that felt like he possessed every inch of her with his lips alone. Dominatingly, his tongue speared into the sweetness of her mouth, loving every sound he caused to escape from her.

Viviana spread her legs, inviting him to stand between her thighs. The heel of her stiletto dug into his hip as she set her right foot down. Breathless and hard enough to pound a hole through a concrete wall, Anton rested his forehead to her cheek.

“Have you missed me?” Viviana asked softly.

Anton chuckled, breathing in the scent of her. A godly mixture of roses, home, life and love all rolled into one. “So, so much, baby.”

Viviana slowly unbuttoned his suit jacket and pulling it down his arms, letting the article fall to the floor. In no time at all, his silk shirt followed the same path. She roamed her hands over the expanse of his chest, her fingers dancing along the lines of his tattoos. Like it always did when she lavished attention on his marks, sparks of love and desire bloomed along her touches. When she came down to his wrists where the people he loved most in life were permanently inked, she traced the black licks of their children’s names. He added Ana’s shortly after she was born directly above where Demyan’s was placed.

“They miss you, too,” Viviana said. “And me. I’ve been busy, too.”

“I’ll figure something out,” Anton promised. “This first one was the worst, really. The others aren’t in as bad of shape so I won’t be away as much.”

“Good.” Viviana lifted his other wrist up and kissed her name with a gentle ghost of her lips. “I don’t like waking up and thinking my husband is a stranger I’m passing by.”


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