Molly flinches at the noise, Juan’s men tense up, but I just stare at him as he falls to the floor and writhes around.
He lets out a whining noise, clutching his leg.
“Fucker shot me. Get him. Get him.”
I look at the men, into their faces. Some of them are twenty, others a few years older, barely past boyhood. They look scared and incapable, despite their size, their phony muscles.
None of them want to do this.
It’s like they’ve just realized where they are, what they’re doing.
“Is any amount of drugs worth this, you idiots?” I growl. “I’m Murphy Moran. I built this city with blood. I started before some of you were even born. Did you really think this would end well for you? You have two choices. Leave, run, and hope I don’t catch you. Or try to open that door, and roll the fucking dice. I’m fine with either. This gun’s got thirteen bullets left. That gives me a few fucking spares.”
I take another step forward, waiting for one of them to cross the line where Juan sits – clutching his leg – instead of lurking behind its protection.
They exchange glances, looking for leadership, but their leader is whining on the floor.
“Get—get—them,” Juan says, his voice wavering.
“Feeling woozy there, Juan? Maybe those drugs thinned your blood.” I turn to his men. “He’ll bleed out in about three minutes. You don’t want to be here when a Cartel boss dies, even an ex-boss. They will hunt you as well.”
It’s a lie… the Cartel won’t give a damn who was here. They probably want Juan dead after he disgraced himself and lost control of his men.
But they believe it because they’re green and inexperienced and way out of their depth.
“No, no,” Juan breathes, cradling his gun to his chest.
His men ignore him, ducking their heads and make for the door, their footsteps loud on the marble as they leave Juan and me staring at each other. He can barely hold his gun straight, he’s woozy from the panic.
“Gun down, Juan,” I growl. “Or the next one goes in your head.”
He lowers it slowly, looking defeated as he gazes up at me.
I dart forward and push the door open, grabbing him by the throat and shoving him up against the glass wall. Molly stares at me from the other side, her mouth falling open, stunned in that way people get when they’ve never been near visceral violence like this.
“You need to apologize,” I growl, squeezing Juan’s neck, his one good leg kicking as his shot leg hangs.
His eyes water as I crush, harder and harder, his words echoing around my head. This motherfucker was going to poison my city, my future family, my life.
“Murphy,” Molly says, snapping me from some sort of daze.
I tighten my grip, even more, the rage moving through me like waves of fire through hell. All the protective instincts in my body roar at me to end this man’s life for what he said about my woman, for the threat he posed to my family.
“Murphy.” My woman rushes around the glass and places her hand on my arm, soft and soothing after the standoff. “You’re going to kill him.”
Juan gasps, wriggling, his face turning red as I hold him pinned in place. I can’t respect a man like this, a monster like this, who rules with fear and blackmail and not with his own strength.
He thought he could ambush me, take my family, and now it’s just me and him as he hangs there pathetically.
He doesn’t fight back.
He gasps and wriggles and pleads with his eyes.
This man would’ve raped my woman if he’d killed me, and now he’s silently begging me to spare his life.
“Murphy, please,” Molly says. “I don’t want you to go to prison. Please…”
The word prison punches into my head, twisting painfully, as I think about the time I’d lose with Molly and our children.
“I want a family,” she murmurs, as though voicing my thoughts aloud. “I want a future together.”
With a snarl, I release my grip, and Juan drops like a sack of shit onto the floor. He slumps against the glass window, one hand at his throat and the other on his leg.
“Fucking apologize,” I growl.
“Sorry,” he wheezes, voice breathy from where I’ve crushed his throat.
I turn to Molly, my eyebrow quirked, silently asking her if she accepts his apology.
She nods shortly, a note of fire flickering through her eyes, as though she considered telling me to kill him for a passing moment.
“What do we do now?” she asks.
“I rally my men. Juan will go to the Feds. And the Cartel will leave my city.”
“No,” Juan wheezes, laughing maniacally. “The Cartel will never quit.”
“Even when I give them your properties, Juan, all your land back home?”
He makes a choked noise, sputtering, as though he can’t stomach my words.
“My properties are…”
“Under aliases, yes,” I say, nodding. “Which I have now attained, and I’m going to distribute between the heads of the Cartel. You see, you dumb fuck, I think ahead… that’s why you’re the one on the floor.”
It takes a lot for me not to level a quick stiff punch to his jaws and knock him out.
I look at Molly, my woman with her messy auburn hair, and I let the relief wash through me.
She smiles at me, nodding with determinations in her eyes.
She knows that if we can get through this, we can get through anything.
I take out my cellphone and call Cillian.
“Motherfuckers used a secret service hatch,” I growl when he answers. “Get up here. Juan has kidnapped the building manager so we need to collect him.”
“Fucking shit show. You good, boss?”
I drink in the sight of Molly’s quirked smile, as the panic leaves her and calm washes over.
“Yeah, I’m fucking great, believe it or not.”
Chapter Nineteen
Molly
“I think we have to tell him,” I say.
I stand at the window to his office, looking over the city under the dark sky, millions of lives stacked into tall gray towers turned iron-blue with the moonlight, the same shade as my man’s hair, as though Murphy’s essence is spreading through the city, steel, hard, capable, mine.
We’ve spent the last several hours sorting out the logistics, Murphy talking rapidly into his phone as I make us coffees and try not to lose my mind with nervousness.
And now it’s over.
Juan is in Federal custody and the Cartel has agreed to leave, at least for the time being.
But it’s not really over. It hasn’t even started, not where Dad is concerned.
I feel Murphy walk up behind me, though he moves like a jaguar slinking through the underbrush, with surprising softness and fluidity for a man of his gigantic size. I wonder if that will ever stop exciting me about him and I know it won’t, it can’t.
“Why now, when you didn’t want to tell him before?” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close, his taut body pressed solidly against my back, his forearms across my middle.
I sink against him, trying to ignore the tingling at the very tip of my clit, a tiny sizzling spot that flourishes and spreads across my center and then up and down my lips, circling my hole, making me wet and overexcited.
“Because we could’ve died,” I whisper, blinking back tears.
The shock moves through me. It has ever since it happened, with the visceral reality of violence brought home to me with stunning force.
I felt scared to even move because then I somehow might get in the way of Murphy’s uncaged anger, his rage making his whole body pulse, tense, harder than usual. I thought he was going to crush Juan’s whole head in his powerful paw.
“And then it would be ‘Murphy Moran and driver murdered in his apartment in the newspapers, instead of the truth. Nobody knows what we mean to each other. And we can’t let anyone else know before we tell Dad, s
o… we have to tell him.”
He places his chin on my head, letting out a contented sigh, even as uncertainty wavers through us.
“I agree,” he says. “We’ll tell him in the morning. But for now, just lie down with me, Molly. Let me hold you. You’re my woman, and I need to fucking feel you against me.”
“Murphy…”
“Not that,” he growls. “I just want to hold you.”
I want to do more than being held, but I don’t think I can, not tonight when we’re telling Dad in a few hours.
Will I ever be ready?
Will he get tired of me?
I force the questions down, but they spin and spin through me relentlessly.
I lie against Murphy, even as the morning sunlight glows against my closed eyelids. We fell asleep on his couch in his office, and right now it feels like my world is made of a big snuggly marshmallow, and I don’t want to move. I wriggle closer to him, feeling his stiffness against my back, even as he breathes sleepily in my ear.
I shift so my ass rubs up and down him, biting my lip as a moan tries to escape, wondering if he’ll wake up and be angry. I stop, my pussy feeling like it’s on fire, like all the sunlight spilling into the windows is filling me up with its heat and energy.
I shift faster, bucking against his stiff manhood, not giving myself time to think.
I don’t know what’s coming over me. It just feels so freaking perfect, so hard and massive and powerful and thick through my pants.
His hands glide up to my hips and he pulls me down, letting out a snarl now.
“You horny thing,” he growls, pumping his stiff manhood against my ass.
I let out a high-pitched moan and then clamp my hand over my mouth.
He leans forward, staring down at me with his jaw glittering silver in the sunlight, with his intense eyes searing into me and holding me in place. “Why did you cover your mouth?”
“We’re at your offices…”
He smirks. “The doors are locked. The room is soundproof. And you know I can make it dark in here. Windows, lights, atmospheric.”
Suddenly the room turns pitch-dark, and then just as suddenly soft glowing light spills out from domed corner lamps, sending vast swathes of soft golden lights through the room. It’s like we’re in some kind of fancy hotel. It feels special.
“Make all the noise you want,” he snarls, sliding his hand down over my ass cheeks and then teasing between my legs. “Fuck. I can feel how soaked you are.”
I wriggle against him, letting out a whimper.
“You need to come.” He rolls me on my front, his hands busy at my pants, and then he roughly yanks them down to my knees, the pants trapping them together so my naked hole and ass are exposed to him. “Fuck, you’ve got a nice young pink pussy, Molly. I can see it’s never been fucked before. You’ve got a shy little hot pink slit, haven’t you?”
I whimper, stunned at the beastly force of his words as if another part of him has taken over, the same savage part that would’ve killed a man to protect me.
“Yes,” I whimper when he drags his hand down my sex, smearing my clit and my lips and then circling my hole with his finger, adding to the crazy tingles.
“You’re going to come for me,” he snarls. “And then you’re going to take my dick. Do you understand?”
No tries to rise up on my lips, the word bursting out, but I force it back down. It’s just my nerves and my fear, but with the warmth of his body and his arms wrapped around me, it feels so right, like fate.
His finger against my hole is too firm, too possessive, too Murphy to let those silly fears stop me.
“Yes,” I whimper.
I look over my should to find his eyes narrowed, like an eagle getting ready to dive down on its prey.
“Do you mean yes?” he growls. “Because once I feel how tight and warm your hole is around my throbbing dick, I won’t be able to stop.”
“Yes,” I say again, trying to put some sassiness into my voice.
He nods firmly, his jaw pulsing as though he can’t believe this is happening. Neither can I because it’s so much hotter in real life. He feels so close and vital and mine, and I love him, I love him so freaking much.
I bite down to stop myself from saying it.
Then he slips his finger into my hole and the heat sears through me, spreading through my body in tantalizing waves, touching every part of me as he plays with my body. He swirls his finger around a supersensitive spot, making me twitch and moan as I writhe on the large cream couch.
“That’s it. Pretend it’s my dick. Ride it like a good virgin.”
I shift my hips back and forth against him, pumping up and down, taking as much of his finger as he gives me. I try to do as he says and imagine it’s his throbbing dick instead, but all I can think about is the intense wetness shivering inside of me each time he slides in deeper.
Starlight shatters across my lower half, everything trembling with the impact, the orgasm triggering at the end of his finger and seeping through me. I don’t know what happens exactly.
My whole body bucks and twitches like my womb has taken control, moaning noises escaping my lips and rising into the air.
I gasp as the orgasm breaks and my wetness squirts down his fingers.
“Fuck,” he growls. “I’m going to use this to make my dick good and slick for you, baby. Are you ready to take a big dick?”
Part of me wants to scream no, but there’s another part of me – my womb, the future, fate – that sings yes over and over, the voice getting louder in my head as I feel the stickiness of my thighs and the want in my heart.
“I want your dick,” I whimper. “I need it. Let me try.”
“Your hole is hungry for it,” he snarls, pulling out his long meaty length and rubbing the tip up my inner thigh.
“Yes,” I say, just about managing to force the word out past the waves of pleasure moving through me.
They batter and crash against the walls of my nervousness, singing that I don’t have to be so reserved, so afraid… I can let other parts of me out, wielding the sassiness I use as a shield in the bedroom, pushing back against him, moaning in a way I know he likes.
He’s my man. I know what pleases him. I just need to follow the lust-filled instincts pulsing through me.
“Good,” he growls, dragging his slick helm to my hole. “Because I can’t wait any longer.
Chapter Twenty
Murphy
I grab her thick hips and squeeze, watching in fascination and hunger as her skin turns touch-me red, her flesh molding around my hand, giving me so much to explore and indulge in, and then I move my gaze to her ass, her knees pressed together making her slit look like a wet fucking promise.
I groan as I use my other hand to press my tip against her hole, groaning as it opens a little to let my tip inside.
She makes a moaning noise, tensing up for a moment, as though she doesn’t think she can take it.
“It’s so big,” she gasps.
I chuckle savagely, pushing in deeper, and deeper, as her hot slit opens up and hugs my shaft in a tight fiery fist. I push and push, unable to stop, as she whimpers and shivers on the end of me.
She gasps when I drive all the way inside of her, pushing my hips forward so her thick creamy ass is pressed up against my abs.
I smooth my hand up her side, linking it around her front and tearing at her shirt. It rips and I reach inside, under her bra, finding her needy nipple as I hold myself inside of her.
She half-turns, reaching up to hold onto my face, her mouth open and her eyes wavering.
“So—fucking—big,” she moans.
“Take it,” I growl, rubbing her nipples in time with my thrusts, pumping faster each time.
She bites her lip and starts to thrust her hips, her eyes wide in disbelief, like she can’t believe it’s starting to feel good. I feel the change in her relax just a little… she’s still tight as fuck, gripping my cock, but now I can slide slickly in
and out of her soaked hole.
“Oh, fuck, it’s different,” she gasps. “It’s—it’s good, it’s so good.”
I grab her breast greedily, squeezing onto it as I pump my hips faster, my eyes locked on my woman, with each long thrust, studying her to make sure she’s able to take what I’m giving her.
Once she opens her mouth and lets out a short scream of pleasure I know I’ve got her right where I want her.
I take my hands off her hips and slide out of her, climbing up.
“On your knees,” I growl. “I need to really see that ass move.”
She giggles as she awkwardly sits up, her legs still trapped by the pants. I stand and lean down, bringing my cock to her pussy, framed in by her round ass cheeks.
She looks vulnerable and naïve and sexy.
She looks like mine.
I grab her ass and slide inside of her, watching as my wet length disappears between her ass, her hot hole clamping around me as greedily as I grip her flesh.
I fuck her hard, ramming deep inside of her and then pulling out to ram her even harder. Something shatters in me, some animal reflex, as I pound into her.
She screams and bucks her head, bouncing against me, as though the same primal chord has been stuck inside her. It’s like we’re beasts now, wild and crazed, and all we know is the feel of each other’s bodies.
All we know is how badly I need to fuck my seed into her fertile young body.
I lean over and pummel her into the couch, and my sexy-as-fuck queen lets her instincts take over. She pushes back against me, driving hot pressure up my shaft, making me think for a crazy moment I’m going to spill inside of her before she’s squirted down my shaft.
But I’d never let that happen, even if it’s damn-near impossible with Molly shifting her hips like that.
“Come for me,” I snarl. “Come on this fucking dick. Show me how badly you need a family, a future. Fucking. Come. Now.”
I let out a groan of need as she collapses onto the couch, her body flopping around like she’s being electrocuted. I fuck her into the couch, climbing atop and pounding her so hard the stainless steel legs start to shake and scrape against the floor.
Driving the Mob: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Page 11