Jaded Devil: An Enemies-to-Lovers Mafia Romance

by Nicole Fox

  She cringes back, but doesn’t deny it.

  How could she? It’s true.

  “I know you think your brother is all you have, Renata,” I tell her. “But he’s not…”

  I stop short when I see the glassiness in her eyes. She looks emotional. It’s the second time I’ve seen her unravel so fast in front of me.

  “But that’s just it,” she says. “He is the only family I have. The only family I will ever have.”

  “Renata…”

  “Logan did a lot more than take away my ability to trust men,” she whispers. “He took away my ability to have children, too.”

  I don’t know why, but my body feels cold. Like an Arctic breeze is blowing on me and me alone. “What?”

  She nods. “He hurt me, Kian. The doctor told me that the internal damage to my womb was… unfixable. I’ll never bear children.”

  My muscles tense instantly. And again, I see red. Lucky for this biker bastard that he’s dead. If he wasn’t… he’d be suffering like no one in the history of humanity has ever suffered before.

  I can hear the quiet strength in her voice, hiding behind despair. “I don’t even know if I want kids,” she adds quickly. “I just…”

  “It wasn’t his choice to take away,” I finish.

  She nods as a tear slips down her cheek. It’s the second time I’ve seen her cry today. And it fucking eats me up inside.

  Which is new. I’ve always been a cold motherfucker. Other people’s emotions have never touched me personally. I can feel sympathy, but empathy has always been hard for me.

  Until her.

  Until Renata Lombardi.

  Until fate brought me back in front of the daughter of my slaughtered enemy, and bound us together with something I still don’t have the words to explain.

  Before I can stop myself, I reach out and cup the side of her face with my hand. She doesn’t flinch away from me. In fact, she leans into my hand and her tear falls right into my palm. Her eyes meet mine, and that unspoken attraction between us burgeons until it’s undeniable.

  Something has to be done about it.

  All I’m aware of is her. She blocks out everything else. I pull her into my lap and my cock springs up so fast that I wince. As her hands travel down my chest, I notice the sadness in her eyes has been replaced by something else.

  Hunger. Lust. Desire.

  Her fingers trail down my left arm as she leans in, her lips parted. The kiss falls over me like a cloud. It’s not the kind I’m used to. It’s too soft, too gentle. Too cautious.

  But somehow, that makes it so much more intense. Her body presses down against me, shivering slightly, but I can feel how hard her nipples are.

  I have to concentrate hard to hold myself back. I know what she’s been through with men and I don’t want to contribute to her anxiety. But it’s not in my nature to go gentle. I can’t remember the last time I even tried.

  For her, though… For Renata, I can—

  CLICK.

  My focus shatters when I feel a sharp, metallic coldness at my left wrist.

  Renata leans away from me with a subtle smile. Only then do I realize that she’s managed to handcuff me to the arm in my own fucking chair.

  My skin prickles with horrified goosebumps for a moment. The fear I had earlier today resurfaces. Has she been playing me from the start? Is Renata Lombardi the queen, and I’m just a pawn on her chessboard?

  Her smile seems so fucking sinister in the dim light. Vicious and…

  No. I’m wrong. It’s not that at all. As she moves into the arc of light, I see her face in full, and all my fears fall away.

  Renata grinds her pussy against my cock as she unbuttons my shirt with thin, trembling fingers. “It’s not easy for me to give up control to a man,” she whispers. “Maybe this way, I can give myself to you and not be so… scared.”

  She drags her eyes up to mine like it’s the hardest thing she’s ever done. She studies my expression carefully. Fretfully. I can tell she’s nervous.

  “Okay?”

  I growl and nod. “I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

  35

  Renata

  In my twenty-five years, I’ve never once understood the concept of “getting wet.” It feels more like the kind of thing women say because it sounds sexy, when in actuality, they’re not really feeling much of anything down there.

  But when Kian says those words—growls them, really, in a deep, feral voice that drips of masculine energy—I understand completely.

  “I’ll take you whichever way I can get you.”

  As soon as they leave his lips, my pussy throbs with renewed desire and I feel moisture pooling between my legs. My body wants him and only him. It doesn’t need anything else.

  His left arm is cuffed to the chair. Without that buffer, I’m not sure I’d be as confident. It’s hard for him, though—that much is obvious. He keeps pulling at his steel tether, his hand clenching into a fist before releasing again.

  A frustrated growl escapes his lips, but somehow, that just makes my pussy clench harder. I can feel the hard bulge of his cock and I’m desperate to touch him.

  His free hand is looped around my waist, cupping my ass possessively. I run my hand down his chest, slowly undoing the buttons to hide the fact that my fingers are trembling. I’m pretty sure he notices, though. His blue eyes are dark and they’re watching me with unblinking focus.

  “Is this what it feels like for you?” I ask with a shaky voice. “When you’ve got a woman chained and at your mercy?”

  His lips twitch upwards in a wry grin. “What does it feel like for you?”

  “Scary.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “Then no,” he replies. “It doesn’t feel the same for me.”

  “So I’m doing it wrong?”

  “You’re unpracticed,” he tells me. “But it’s simple. You want control?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then take it.”

  Those words send fire coursing through me. His cock jumps, brushing against my leg and I abandon all thought to act on pure instinct.

  I unzip him and pull his cock free. It’s large, both in length and in girth. A cock that size might have filled me with dread at one time. I would’ve seen it as a weapon trying to kill me. But now, all I can feel is excitement.

  “You like what you see, Renata?” Kian asks, watching my expression.

  “Yes. God, yes.”

  He squeezes my ass and then tries to undress me with one hand. But I push his hand away from me and instead pin it to the armrest.

  He’s definitely turned on, but there’s a part of him that’s still fighting for dominance, too.

  “I’ve never been in control like this before,” I tell him.

  “Because no man has ever allowed you to be.”

  I realize that, despite the steel cuffs, Kian is strong enough to dominate me even in this position. But he’s holding himself back. He’s giving me the reins because he knows that this is what I need.

  Once I’ve unbuttoned his shirt, I push the fabric aside and marvel at the ripples and indentations of his muscles. He’s so fucking beautiful that for a long time, I just touch him and stare. Every so often, he bucks underneath me, making sure his cock is pressed up against my pussy. I know he’s impatient, but I like that. I like knowing that sex will only happen if and when I want it to.

  Rubbing my pussy against his naked cock, I lean in and kiss him. It’s a deep kiss and I find myself enjoying the sensation of his tongue in my mouth.

  It’s strange. I used to hate French kissing. It always felt invasive to me. An act of ownership, not love.

  But I realize now that that was only because I was kissing all the wrong men. When I kiss Kian… it’s different.

  I break the kiss and push myself off Kian’s lap. Then I peel off my clothes, one by one, until I’m standing naked in front of him. Strangely, I don’t feel conscious of the fact that he’s still relatively clothed and I’m bare.
r />   In fact, I feel powerful. I feel alive.

  His eyes rake over my body unapologetically. I bask in the attention for a moment before climbing back on his lap. He welcomes me with an ass squeeze so hard that I wince and twitch.

  “Hands to yourself, Master Kian,” I tease.

  “Fuck that,” he growls at me. “You can’t stand naked in front of me and expect me to do nothing.”

  “That’s exactly what I expect,” I murmur, leaning in and biting his bottom lip.

  I let my tongue roam over it for a moment. Then I bite down hard enough to draw blood.

  He takes a sharp inhale in surprise. His eyes are wide when I pull away, and I can tell he hasn’t expected me to be quite so aggressive.

  I give him a teasing smile. “Scared now?”

  “On the contrary,” he fires back, “I’m intrigued. More so than I already was.”

  I press my hips against him and his cock lines up against my pussy. I start rubbing myself against him.

  He moans angrily. “How much longer are you going to do that for?”

  “For as long as I fucking want, Kian O’Sullivan,” I whisper in his ear, bucking against his cock while his free hand digs into my ass cheek.

  I can feel his tip slip between my lips. Just for a moment, but when it happens, a thrill so intense shoots through my body that goosebumps erupt over my skin.

  “Your body’s giving you away,” Kian informs me smugly.

  In reply, I slink down between his thighs, wrap two hands around his shaft, and give him an agonizingly long, slow lick from base to tip. He hardens even more, his cock pulsing with need and a tiny bead of precum glistening in the light.

  “So is yours,” I tease right back.

  All he can do is throw his head back and groan.

  I take to my feet again. With my knees outside of his hips, I use his shoulders as leverage and lower myself down on top of him one tiny fraction of an inch at a time. I gasp, groan, and mutter nonsense syllables. His cock feels bigger going in than it looks. I’m being split in two.

  When the final inch goes and our hips are flush together, I actually cry out. “Fuck,” I gasp, closing my eyes to try and contain the new wave of sensations scouring through me.

  Kian squeezes my ass, urging me on. “Come on, baby. Ride me.” His voice is huskier and deeper than ever. It feels like my cells are vibrating in response to every word he speaks.

  I don’t mind the order. In fact, I like it. I want him to tell me what he wants so I can give it and take it away whenever I choose.

  I start grinding against him, taking it easy and adjusting myself to his size. He’s moving, too, as much as he can. I can tell that’s he’s intensely uncomfortable having his hand bound.

  His free hand is on the small of my back, pushing me back and forth, coaxing me to pick up the movement and ride him harder.

  It feels too good not to give him that. At some point, I lose all semblance of control. The harder I buck against him, the more desperate for his cock I become.

  Something is coming for me in the distance. I’ve never actually had an orgasm before. But that makes sense, since sex was never about pleasure for me in the past.

  At best, it was a distraction. At worst, it was torture.

  But this… Jesus, this… With one hand, gripping his neck, and the other on his taut stomach, I bounce on his cock until I’m screaming.

  We’re on his veranda, exposed to the elements. The patio is private, but sound carries, especially out in the open like this. Who knows which of Kian’s neighbors or soldiers can hear me?

  Good thing I don’t fucking care.

  I look down at Kian’s face. The desire I see blazing there just makes me want him more. I slam my hips against his, taking his cock even deeper.

  Kian pulls at his restrained hand, and I notice the slat he’s cuffed to begin to give way.

  “Fuck,” he moans as I pick up the pace.

  And then I hear the crunch of splintering wood, and Kian’s hand is free. The cuff hangs off his wrist, still attached to the jagged plank of light wood, but he doesn’t even seem to notice.

  He stands up, keeping my legs wrapped around his waist as he carries me to the patio table only a foot away. He places me down on the edge, keeping his hand firmly on my thighs.

  He’s only half inside me, but the moment I’m lying flat on the slightly gritty patio table, he slams back all the way in—hard.

  I feel the surge of fear, unsettled by how easily he was able to overpower me. But there’s also something incredibly sexy about the way he had ripped free of his restraint. Pure power and lust and dominance.

  He fucks me so hard that all I can hear is the animalistic sound of flesh meeting flesh. The slap, slap, slap of skin on skin. Then, with both hands, he grabs my breasts, squeezing them gently as he bears down on me with so much force that it shocks another orgasm loose.

  At first, I’m not sure what’s happening. I wonder if he’s broken me.

  But then I realize, the sensation flooding my body isn’t unpleasant. In fact, it feels… out of control, in a way that I actually welcome. There’s a certain amount of fear, but I can overlook that in light of what I’m feeling. I want to grip something, but I can’t seem to steer my hands. I end up clawing at the table I’m lying on, tearing up chunks of the soft wood as I moan like I’m possessed.

  Kian doesn’t stop fucking me, not even for a second. He keeps going, more machine than man.

  His expression is both terrifying and titillating, and all it takes is one look at him to wrench yet another orgasm from me. One that’s more violent, more out of control than the last.

  When I come, so does he. Long, savage thrusts, burying himself all the way inside me.

  Only then does his body start to slow, a sheen of sweat glimmering over his taut skin. He pumps into me a few more times before he stops altogether.

  A drop of sweat travels from his neck, down to his chest. It moves slowly and I can’t seem to take my eyes off it. With Kian still inside me, I sit up and lean in. Then I lick the sweat right off his chest.

  When I look up at him, he’s staring down at me intently. The hunger in his eyes has ebbed somewhat, but the desire is still there, burning hot.

  He slips out of me a moment later. I feel a sense of loss at the absence of him between my legs. I’m sore, but it’s the kind of soreness that’s satisfying.

  Kian buttons up his pants but ignores his open shirt as he walks back into his office. When he returns, the cuffs are gone and he’s holding two glasses filled with a murky brown liquid.

  He hands me one of them. I sniff it cautiously. “Whiskey?”

  “Irish whiskey. The best in the world,” he tells me. “Take small sips.”

  I do. The first note is dark and dusky, but the bitterness ebbs after a moment and there’s a salty-sweetness just underneath.

  Kian sits back down on the chair, the same one I’d cuffed him to. Then he gestures for me to join him. It’s an intimate gesture, but I’m not scared off by it.

  I get off the table and reach for my clothes. “No,” he says gruffly. “Leave them.”

  “I’m naked.”

  “That’s how I like you,” he says.

  It’s not a compliment or a tease or anything like that. Just a fact. Cold, hard, dark. It makes me shiver with a feeling I can’t name.

  “Now come here.”

  I’m about to argue, but one corner of his mouth twitches up like he knows exactly what I’m going to do. Sighing, I shrug my shoulders and climb onto his lap. My back settles against his arm and part of his chest and I rest my head against his shoulder.

  He smells of whiskey, sweat, and… me. It’s a fucking intoxicating combination.

  Both our faces are craned up towards the sky. I’d thought it was about to rain, but I notice that the dark clouds have moved on. The swirling vortex of rain has retreated into the far distance, somewhere above the ocean.

  “I’ve never really been outside of
the city before,” I murmur.

  “Never?”

  I shake my head. “We were always running. Hiding. Plotting. There wasn’t exactly time to plan a vacation.”

  Kian stiffens beneath me.

  “It’s not accusation,” I add. I honestly hadn’t intended it that way at all. “It’s just a fact.”

  He hesitates, then seems to accept that. He sighs and relaxes. “Where would you go if you could?”

  I don’t have to think about my answer. “I’ve always wanted to see the Northern Lights,” I blurt. “In Iceland.”

  His eyes dart to me and then back to the sky. “This isn’t quite like that.”

  “No,” I chuckle. “It’s still beautiful. But the Northern Lights… I used to collect postcards of it when I was a teenager.”

  “Forget the postcards,” Kian tells me. “Go to Iceland and see the lights for yourself.”

  I sigh. “I don’t even have a passport,” I admit. “And even if I did, I don’t think I could ever get on a plane.”

  “Scared you’re gonna crash?”

  “Terrified.”

  “That’s irrational. You have a better chance of getting bit by a shark and struck by lightning in the same day.”

  I frown. “I wouldn’t call it irrational. Plane crashes happen.”

  “Yes, but the probability is low,” he counters again. “You’re safer in the air than you are on land.”

  “Makes sense. There are more men like you on land.”

  He pinches my side. I yelp with indignation, then settle back to my place nestled in the crook of his arm.

  “You know, there’s only one way to overcome your fears.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” I grimace. “Realizing that there’s nothing to be afraid of and facing them head-on. Blah, blah, fucking blah.”

  He shrugs. “No. You just have to realize there’s every reason to be scared. Then do it anyway.”

  36

  Kian

  The Next Day

  I haven’t felt this good in twenty years.