The Priest: Bratva Blood Five: (A Dark Mafia Romance)

by SR Jones

  The sound and scent of sex fills the room as we both come and come.

  It’s glorious.

  Possibly the best high of my life.

  As I come down, and my body sags, Priest is there, holding me up.

  “Let go of the bed, baby.”

  I do as he says, and he pulls out of me, turning me to face him as he massages my wrists and hands. They’re not sore, but they are a bit dead from being in one position for so long.

  Not caring, I pull him into me, needing skin on skin. I press my tits against his chest and kiss him as if my life depends on it because in the moment it feels as if it does.

  I kiss him so hard I taste blood. Priest doesn’t seem to care because he grunts and deepens the kiss, pulling me to him and wrapping me in his big arms.

  We’re damp skin on damp skin. Heated lips against heated lips.

  Fingers touch, tease, and map out new territory.

  I want more.

  Falling onto my back, I pull Priest on top of me. He stares at me for a moment and then kisses me softly, deeply. It’s like I’m falling into madness, but I don’t care. I give myself to this completely.

  He’s a drug. A heady, addictive, dangerous drug.

  My legs fall apart, and he’s there between them, and he’s hard. Still hard, or hard again, I don’t know.

  “I want you again,” I tell him.

  He pushes in a little, and I moan at him filling me once more. The burn, the pleasure, the rightness of it all.

  “You sore?” he asks.

  “Not enough to stop me from wanting this.”

  He bites my lip and then soothes it with a lick.

  I raise my arms above my head as he trails his fingers down them both, over my breasts and ribs, making me giggle as it tickles, and then back up. When he gets to my wrists, he wraps his big hands around them and holds me in place.

  Yes. This is what I’ve always seen in my deepest darkest fantasies.

  He slides deeper into me, and I arch to meet his thrusts.

  His hold on my wrists tightens, and I push against it. There’s no give at all. He’s so strong, I can’t move him. Couldn’t if I really wanted to.

  Sudden fear hits me. I see Red on top of me, not Priest. I stiffen.

  Priest stops kissing me and pulls away to look at me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I say.

  “Don’t lie to me,” he demands.

  “My wrists,” I say, unable to find the words to explain.

  He lets go immediately, and I wrap my arms around him.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “For what?” He runs a finger over my cheek and down my face. “Listen to me, Roze.” He whispers my real name in my ear, soft and sinful. “You know I like control?”

  I nod.

  “I like to be given it. Do you get me?”

  I nod again.

  “Do you know what that means ultimately?”

  Thinking about it, I feel like an idiot because I don’t.

  “It means that ultimately, you’re in control. What gave just then?”

  “I’ve always had a fantasy of being held down. Always. It’s my go-to. But then I thought of Red. He flashed into my mind.”

  “Okay, so if something like that happens, use your words. Tell me to stop.”

  I nod again.

  “You’re safe here, with me.”

  Emotion washes over me, so strong it threatens to make me cry, and I have to swallow it down. I do feel safe with Priest. Safe. Happy. Whole. But one day, he’ll walk away, and I’ll be alone again.

  I push the thoughts away, not wanting to wallow in sadness when he’s inside me, his weight on top of me, his scent surrounding me.

  Life is ephemeral, and I know better than most how you should just grab it with both hands. My mother died before she hit thirty. Many of my family died terribly young. Taken by war, and hatred, and violence.

  I shove the sadness away, telling myself I’ll examine it later, and I move. It’s a small hitch of my hips, but it brings Priest deeper inside, where I want him.

  I stretch my hands up again. “Do it again,” I ask him. “I promise if I get a freak out, I’ll use my words.”

  He grins at me. “Your wish is my command.”

  Gripping my wrists, he pushes them down into the bed, holding me captive as he thrusts in me.

  I’m so wet and filled with his cum that he moves easily within me. He fucks me slow and deep, and when I can feel my orgasm building, he takes one of my hands and guides it between my legs.

  “Touch yourself for me,” he orders.

  I finger my clit as he fucks me and when I come, it’s not as explosive as the first time, but more of a slow, perfect wave of pleasure.

  My hand falls to the side, and Priest thrusts two more times before he finds his own release.

  I’m exhausted. Sated. Boneless in the best way.

  “We ought to get cleaned up,” Priest says.

  “No,” I reply. “Let’s just snuggle. I like you inside me.”

  “Fuck me, say shit like that and we’ll have to have another round and then you will be sore.”

  I smile, and cuddle into him. His warmth surrounds me, and my eyes drift shut.

  Chapter 24

  Something wakes me. My heart rate kicks up, and I take a few seconds to remember where I am. Sausalito. Houseboat. Roze. Cole next door.

  Roze is dreaming, and she’s making soft mewling sounds. I realize with a start that she’s…humping my leg. Her wet pussy is sliding against my thigh.

  Holy crap. The girl is insatiable.

  My dick hardens and I think maybe I’m insatiable too. At least when it comes to her.

  She’s in my arms, one leg over my thigh, pussy against me.

  I trail my fingers down her body, over her tits, letting my thumb linger on her nipple, down past her waist, and over her belly.

  When I reach her pussy, I push my finger down between her and my thigh. Her clit is swollen and exposed. Must be some dream she’s having.

  I get a moment of fierce possessiveness hoping it’s about me and have to have a word with myself to stop being a jealous freak.

  She moans again, pushing against my hand.

  I rub her clit as she wriggles into the touch.

  “Priest,” she mumbles.

  I grin like a fucking man who just won the Superbowl. It is me she’s dreaming about.

  Needing to taste her, I slide down the bed, and push her legs apart, positioning her onto her back.

  We fell asleep with the bedside lamp on, so I can see her perfectly. She’s wet, swollen, and beckoning me like a ripe fucking peach.

  I dart my tongue out and taste her.

  She moans, stiffens, and then sits up with a shocked gasp.

  “What?” I laugh.

  She pushes at my head. “Priest?”

  “Yeah, who else would it be?”

  “What are you doing?”

  I laugh some more. “What do you think?”

  I suck her clit into my mouth.

  “Fuck,” she groans.

  “Love it when you give me some dirty talk,” I tell her as I let go of her clit and flick it with my tongue.

  “Not that this isn’t the best way to wake up, but why are you down there?”

  “Why am I eating pussy at five in the morning?” I ask her.

  She pushes my head. “Don’t be crude. But…yeah.”

  “You were humping my leg.” I kiss her thigh and slide one finger inside her.

  She pushes down against me, grinding against my hand. “I was not.”

  “Yeah, you were. You were wet, and hot, and needy, so I thought I’d take care of you.”

  I add a second finger, and she moans.

  Jesus this woman. I could fuck her ten times a day for ten years, and never get bored. I know it bone deep. She’s fucking outrageously hot.

  I work her pussy, sliding in and out, loving how wet she is. When I crook
my fingers and find her g-spot her back arches off the bed.

  “Oh, God.”

  I press on it, pushing against the spongey texture of it, and she starts to move her legs as her breathing grows more rapid.

  “Shit, Priest, it’s too much.”

  “No, it’s not baby.” I grin at her as she grips the bedsheets either side in her fists.

  I lick her clit again, flicking it, and then put more pressure on her g-spot as I thrust.

  Her legs part farther, and I pull back to watch my fingers slide in and out.

  “Oh, God, oh, my, God.”

  She covers my hand in wetness as she cries out and I don’t let up. I work her ruthlessly and when she comes, she turns her head to bite the pillow and muffle her cries as she gushes all over me, coming like crazy.

  It’s the hottest thing I’ve seen, and I need to find my own release before I burst.

  I can’t fuck her; she won’t be able to walk tomorrow if we do that again. Instead, I grab my dick, push her thighs further apart and fist myself as I stare at her swollen pussy.

  Fuck me, I want to crawl inside her and never leave.

  I come with a shout and spray it all over her perfect cunt.

  When I’m done, I massage it in, smiling as I make her more of a sloppy mess.

  “I think I’m dead,” she says.

  “Nah, you’re very much alive. But we need to move to the other side of the bed. That’s one hell of a damp spot we’ve made.”

  She flushes and I laugh. “Baby, don’t be shy. You were the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Really?” she gives me her deep brown gaze.

  “Hands down. Sexiest woman I’ve ever met. Not lying.”

  “Wow. Okay.”

  “You say okay a lot,” I observe.

  “I suppose I say it when I don’t know what else to.”

  “Come here.” I roll to the other side of the bed and pull her with me.

  We lie together, messy, hot, and not caring.

  It’s perfect.

  The next day, I take Roze into the city. I want her to see it. I’ve been here a few times, and it’s a cool place to explore.

  Cole comes with us, and his easy chatter makes up for my lack of conversational skills.

  At one point, he ducks into a store, and I sit at a pavement café with Roze as we watch the world go by, sipping at drinks we ordered. Mine’s a coffee, hers is an iced tea.

  “Cole’s nice,” she says after a while. “Easy to get along with.”

  Her words sting for some reason. “Yeah, he is that. Unlike me,” I say.

  “What? What on earth makes you say that?”

  “I’m not chatty the way he is.”

  “I like you the way you are, Priest. You talk when you think there’s something worth saying, not for the sake of it.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just a quiet asshole and I’ve been this way so long, now I have someone I want to be different for, it’s hard.”

  “Well, I don’t want you to be different, damn it. I mean it. I’ve fallen for you for the way you are, not some fantasy I want you to be.”

  Fallen for me?

  She slams her mouth shut as if she’s realized what she’s said.

  She’s fallen for me?

  I feel a sense of triumph. The moment I took her, I knew. She was it for me. Hell, let’s be honest, I knew from the moment I took her case and set out alone to save her. It’s just all a bit too weird to admit out loud. Knowing she’s falling for me, makes me feel as if we might make this work, despite it hardly being a conventional way to meet. There are things I need to sort out before I can make her mine the way I want to. Commitments I need to work out, and some things I must tell Roze. I’ll do those things if it means we get our chance.

  “I could fall in love with this city far too easily,” Roze says.

  “Me too. What’s not to love. The views. The ocean.”

  “It’s laid back,” she says. “I like the kind of hippy vibe it still has in some areas.”

  Cole comes out of the store and joins us. The waitress who served us eye-fucks him as she takes his order. He doesn’t notice. He doesn’t notice much these days. His mind always on Pamela.

  His phone buzzes and he takes it out and reads a message. His face lights up.

  “Fuck,” he breathes.

  “What?”

  “Someone’s seen an American woman, staying with a remote tribe that are involved in drugs, growing not moving. They say this woman was helping them.”

  “Helping them?” That makes no sense. “How?”

  He shrugs. “Teaching the kids, they say. Helping out.”

  “She wouldn’t do that, would she?” I ask.

  “She would if it meant staying alive, and staying whole,” Cole replies. “Don’t forget, she’s worked with cults, and de-programming, and before that she had experience of hostage negotiation. If it is Pamela, and it’s a big if, maybe she found herself with this tribe, somehow, and realized that making herself useful to them was the best bet right now.”

  “Is this the woman you’re looking for?” Roze asks.

  “It might be,” Cole replies. He scrubs a hand over his face, looks at me, and sucks in air.

  “Go,” I tell him. “You don’t even need to fucking say it. Go. We’re okay. You helped immensely getting us here.”

  “I’ve set up an interview for AJ too,” Cole says. “It’s in ten days, and it’s with some friends in high places who might be able to help with getting her American papers.”

  “Thank you,” she says. “I think though, I want to go to Corfu. The more I think about it, the more I like the idea of doing what Priest said. What you suggested too, Cole. Having a center there for women who can come and do a three- or four-week course of a variety of skills that will be confidence building.”

  Cole glances at me. “That’s all great, but you’d need to get the go-ahead to do that from K and Andrius and they aren’t going to give you it right now, while your father is involved in a massive gang war. It would put a target on them and what they’re building. Right now, as things stand, your best bet of staying safe, is a new name and staying in America until the dust settles. Or someone wins the war, one way or the other.”

  I see Roze’s face fall as her dream slips out of her grasp. I grab her hand and hold it tight. “It’s only for the time being while everything is so up in the air,” I tell her.

  “Okay, thank you,” she says to Cole.

  He pushes his chair back. “So, Legend is local these days. Lives in the Sierras and can get to you in around an hour if you need him. Same number as always. This is a number to use if you’re ever stuck, she’s the one who got us the guns. She’s CI. Even I don’t know what exactly but she’s fucking shit hot at what she does and is the best shooter I’ve ever seen outside of Special Forces.”

  He slides a piece of paper over to me. “Call her if you need back-up. she’s very local. Names Mona.”

  Roze stands too and goes around the table to hug Cole.

  “Thank you for helping us out, Cole. I really hope you find your friend.”

  “Thanks,” he says.

  “I should be going with you,” I tell him, feeling bad.

  He shoots me a grin. “It’s okay. I have Target coming with me, and Alexei who was supposed to be working with Gezim is now at a loose end, so K has told him to come along too.”

  Cole realized what he’s said and glances at Roze. “I’m sure your father is going to be okay,” he says. “But with things as they are, there’s no way for him to slot Alexei into his operation right now.”

  She nods, but her face is tense.

  I know she must be worried sick.

  “Hey, you wanna go see Chinatown?” I ask her, hoping to distract her.

  She plasters a smile on her face. “That would be great. You take care, Cole, and I hope you find her.”

  “You too. Stay frosty,” he throws at me before turning his back on us and strid
ing down the hill.

  “Guess it’s just us now?” Roze says.

  “Yeah, baby. Just us.”

  I automatically put my hand on my gun at my hip and relax when I feel the familiar bump of the handle. I take her hand with my free one, and we walk toward the cable car stop where we can take the short ride to China town.

  I make a promise to myself that I’ll try to keep her as happy as I can until we know her father is safe.

  Chapter 25

  The birds are singing and I’m sipping coffee on the mid deck. Priest doesn’t want me sitting on the upper deck, says it’s too open and an easy target. The mid deck is surrounded by boats on either side, and hidden from the sidewalk, so the only way someone could get to me is from the water. If boats come near, I go inside.

  It’s a cold, but sunny day, and I’m snuggled in super comfy clothes. My hair is still short, but it’s pink now. I hated the blonde, so I walked into a salon one day, had a trim, and a new color. Priest stood by my side the whole time, watching, alert. The girl cutting my hair couldn’t stop looking at him. I don’t know whether she was into him or scared of him. Maybe a little of both.

  We’ve had some good news. My father finally got himself out of the grasp of the Polish faction. His team rescued him, and now he’s taking them down, group by group. He’s got some high-powered Russian help that I think Andrius and Konstantin sourced. Some guy called Ilya, who is a hugely powerful mob boss from St Petersburg. He’s helping my father, along with some of the Greek mafia. When they reassert Gezim’s dominance the deal is he lets Ilya have control of the betting clubs, and Stamatis, a Greek cartel leader, is the one who controls the weapons supply route. According to the news Priest got today, my father said yes.

  Things feel good. Really good. I’m falling in love. Head over damn heels in love. Priest is amazing. He’s dominant, but considerate. Kind, but doesn’t take shit. He’s strong, protective, but a gentle giant. So many different facets inhabit one person that he’s like a human diamond.

  He doesn’t know. I haven’t used the L word. We’re in this crazy, lust fueled, heady phase. Talking about feelings, I fear, is going to ruin it.

  I have a burner now, too that Cole gave Priest for me. I can call my friends. I can’t tell them where I am, and I stick to that rule rigidly, but I can talk to them. The phone is encrypted, end-to-end, military grade, Priest says. It has a normal password, and a panic password. If I enter the panic password, everything gets wiped.