Knocked Up by the Beast: A Mafia Romance (Kingdoms Book 1)

by Aria R. Blue

  Desperation flows through my blood when she does that.

  Claim her.

  “Hand and knees, baby,” I command.

  She’s eager to comply.

  I position myself behind her, and push her head down until her face is against the carpet and her arms are extended in front of her.

  Her ass is high up in the air—an offering.

  All mine to take.

  I push her little thong to the side, revealing the pink petals that hide the most precious treasure of all.

  “Your cunt is gushing. I think it likes being called dirty names,” I say.

  “Oh God, just put it inside already,” she moans, turning her head towards me.

  “Always so horny to be stuffed with cock. You’re my little personal slut. Isn’t that right, Belle?”

  “Yes,” she gasps. “I’m your slut.”

  “You look so good bent over in front of me,” I say, cupping the round globes of her ass cheeks.

  I grab her fleshy ass, and spread it apart. The thong digs further into her pussy, a useless piece of fabric that serves no purpose other than to entice me.

  “Leo,” she says. “Please.”

  I dig my thumb into her swollen clit, applying gentle pressure to infuriate her. “Such a cum whore. It’s so wrong. But I can never help myself because you look so good with my cum painted all over your pink pussy.”

  “Yes,” she moans.

  Her honey starts to drip.

  Now she’s ready.

  I plunge my cock into her without warning. All the way to the hilt.

  She cries out, but I don’t give her body time to adjust to the intrusion. I impale her with rough, wild thrusts.

  “Oh my God, Leo, you’re going to break me in half.”

  “Good,” I say, going even harder. I slap her clit as I thrust into her, and grab her tits for support.

  I take.

  We’re animals, and she’s my mate. Built to satiate my needs, and give me what I want.

  So I keep taking, slamming into her body over and over again, making her ass ripple with the force of my thrusts.

  She screams the entire time, both in pain and pleasure.

  “This is how slutty girls get fucked,” I say, pounding into her tight pussy mercilessly.

  She spasms all over me, trying to milk me already.

  I grip the flesh of her hips, and start to give her slow lazy strokes. She’s chasing after her own orgasm, but I’m not going to give it to her.

  “My balls have been heavy with cum ever since I first saw you, Belle,” I say. “I’m not going to let you come until you suck every single drop from my cock first.”

  And that’s how I get her to dance on my cock.

  She moves her hips with my cock still inside her, trying to get some release.

  It’s a glorious thing to watch.

  The movement starts from her ass, snakes up her spine, and ends with her tits swinging for me.

  Her mouth parts. I take that as an invitation to insert two fingers into her wet warmth. She sucks on them like a good girl.

  I need to see her face.

  I pull out, and flip her around so she’s laid on the floor. Her tank top is bunched above her breasts, and her panties are half-ripped.

  And like I wanted, her lipstick is smudged.

  Driven by the need to mess it up even more, I lean down and kiss her for the first time tonight.

  Her pillowy lips against mine. Her soft cheeks against my beard.

  The kiss is sexier than everything else we’ve done until now.

  It’s passionate and filled with longing. I line my cock up against her opening, and push into her body once more.

  I swallow her gasps and moans as they originate in her throat.

  Her breasts are flattened against me as I pin her to the floor with my body. I grab her thighs, and rest her knees on my shoulders, folding her in half like she’s a sex doll.

  With every thrust of my hips, I go deeper.

  I hit parts of her that no other man has ever experienced, and never will.

  “This pussy is all mine, Belle. All mine.” My thrusts become ferocious, animalistic.

  I fuck her with everything I have, not holding back any of it.

  Release slams into both of us at once.

  Ropes of thick cum land right against her cervix. Her hungry pussy gobbles it all up, clenching and unclenching around my shaft.

  We lay there for a few moments, until our labored breathing returns to normal.

  “I needed that,” I whisper against her bare shoulders, pulling her tank top down over her breasts, and kissing the underside of her jaw.

  “I know,” she whispers back.

  I carry her back to the soft bed, and lay down next to her.

  Immediately, she turns her back to me, curling up into a fetal position. It’s a silent invitation.

  I chuckle, and spoon her from behind.

  She’s warm and soft in my arms. We’re so different in size, and yet, we fit together perfectly.

  It’s not supposed to make sense, but it does.

  I kiss the back of her ear, and hold her waist with one arm and her breasts with the other.

  The duality of our relationship is like nothing I could have ever imagined.

  We fuck on the floor like animals, and then spoon each other as we go to sleep. It’s filthy, and then it’s sweet.

  Both facets of us exist at the same time.

  I’m starting to show her the dark parts of me. By the time daylight comes, I’ll tell her the truth.

  I’ll bare it all.

  I just hope she’ll be able to take it.

  24

  Belle

  He slips out of bed early in the morning.

  Instantly, I miss his warmth.

  But his lips are on mine before I get to protest. He kisses me slowly, no trace of the wild hunger he showed me last night.

  Just a gentle kiss to send me back to sleep.

  By the time I wake up again, the sun is higher in the sky. He’s not in bed with me, but I’m content.

  He’s back home.

  A distant voice in my head wonders when I started to think of Blackwood Estate as home.

  I haven’t forgotten the events of last night or the night before.

  But all of it seems insignificant in the light of the day.

  Whatever has happened, whatever is about to happen, it no longer bothers me. We’ll deal with it all when the time comes.

  I sit up in bed, and immediately clamp my hand over my mouth.

  There’s that nausea again.

  Everything that’s uncomfortable is back in full force, amplified by the soreness of my body from his love last night.

  I don’t move a muscle until it passes. When I’m certain that it’s gone, I take a few sips of water and then slip into my favorite satin robe.

  My bare feet sink into lush carpet as I open my bedroom door, and follow the smell of food.

  It’s become our daily ritual.

  We start our mornings with breakfast and coffee together, before heading our separate ways for work.

  Like always, I find him in the kitchen.

  He’s on the phone with somebody, but he stops speaking when he senses my presence.

  He grins at me. It’s so beautiful that a piece of my heart breaks at the sight.

  “Good morning, baby,” he says, holding his phone to his chest, and coming over to kiss my forehead.

  He smells like citrus shower gel, and is already dressed for the day. There’s something undeniably sexy about a broad-shouldered man in a suit.

  It doesn’t just end there though.

  His thick shoulder-length hair is tied back in a man bun.

  The Viking hair paired with the businessman clothes is doing all sorts of things to my body.

  “Hey,” I say, pulling my robe tighter around my body.

  “I made breakfast,” he says, pulling up a stool for me at the kitchen island.
/>   He piles my plate with food.

  Ricotta crêpes, scrambled eggs, and blueberry parfait.

  Looking at all the food makes my stomach rumble. I dig in while he goes back to his phone call.

  The person on the other end speaks lengthily. Leo has a smile on his face, so it can only be one person.

  His sister, Ivy.

  “You can move to the other place, but I won’t be paying for it this time,” he says into the phone.

  I check him out while I eat.

  The food is delicious. My view is delicious.

  His ass looks delectable in those dress pants.

  “Ivy, hey, I’ll call you back in the evening,” he says to his sister. A pause, and then, “Yeah, she’s here.”

  My eyes fly up.

  “No, I don’t think she wants to be annoyed by you first thing in the morning.”

  When I widen my eyes at him, he grins. “Okay, I’ll her you said hi.”

  He hangs up the phone, and turns to me. “That was Ivy.”

  “Yeah, I figured,” I say.

  “My sister thinks everything is a crisis,” he says, shaking his head. “And she seems to have a new crisis every week.”

  “What is the crisis this week?”

  “She wants a new apartment because she found a cockroach in her current one,” he sighs.

  “I don’t blame her,” I laugh.

  “Not you too,” he groans. “Here.” He hands me a loaf of cinnamon pull-apart bread. The one that’s brushed with browned butter and nutmeg.

  Leo knows that I like to have something sweet with my coffee every morning.

  I make myself a coffee, and try not to stare at his body.

  He looks so yummy in that well-fitting, custom-made suit. The way it stretches over the expanse of his shoulders and hugs every slab of muscle of his chest.

  “Ivy says that she can’t wait to meet you,” he says, fiddling with his cufflink, and smoothening invisible lines on his shirt.

  “I didn’t know that you told her about me.” I bite the inside of my lips as I look at his hands.

  Hands that were doing unspeakable things to me yesterday are now…fidgeting.

  He rolls his shoulders in an attempt to look casual. “Yeah. Is that okay?”

  I can’t watch this anymore.

  I get off my stool, and walk to him. I only come up to his chest, but he holds me like I’m a prize.

  The way he looks at me makes my stomach feel empty, even though I just had a lavish breakfast.

  The father of my unborn child.

  My best friend.

  My lover.

  “Of course it’s okay,” I say, wrapping my arms around his middle, and resting my head against his sturdy chest.

  He holds my head, and runs his hands down my hair with trembling fingers. Just a simple act, and yet it makes me feel so cherished.

  I need to tell him about the pregnancy.

  Now would be a good time.

  “Leo?” I mumble against his chest.

  “Hm?” There’s a shake to his voice, like he’s trying to hold back emotion.

  “I-I’m-“ I don’t get to finish the sentence.

  His phone is ringing.

  He cuts the call, but it only rings again. I extract myself from his arms, and go back to my cinnamon treat and coffee.

  His jaw is set as he takes the call. “What?”

  A pause as the other person speaks.

  I don’t think it’s his sister this time, because Leo’s scowl only deepens.

  His eyes look haunted as he says, “Nico, I’m going to stop you right there. Now is not a good time. We’ll talk when I see you.”

  With that, he hangs up.

  I look up at him, but he’s glaring at his phone. His eyes soften when they land on me, but only by a little.

  He doesn’t offer an explanation, so I ask the question. “Who’s Nico?”

  Leo sighs. “To answer who Nico is, I need to start from the beginning.”

  25

  Leo

  “I’m not who you think I am, Belle,” I say.

  She tilts her head. “What do you mean?”

  I knew this day would come. The day when I bared everything to her, and she would decide if she still wanted to be with me.

  After finding out who I am.

  After finding out the things I’ve done.

  “What do you see when you see me?” I ask, knowing fully well that I’m just stalling the inevitable.

  I know that by the time we finish having this conversation, both of our hearts are going to be left bruised and bleeding on the floor.

  “What do I see when I look at you?” She repeats. Her eyebrows are pinched together.

  I nod.

  She’s quiet for a moment, no doubt contemplating why I’m asking her this.

  But she clears her throat and says, “I see you—a man with a fierce exterior and a soft heart. I see someone who’s adventurous and open-minded and kind. There are some broken parts inside him, but he doesn’t let that hold him back. When I see you, Leo, I see me. And…I want to know more. I know that there’s more to you, and I want to see everything.”

  My mouth is filled with ash.

  She sees me how I want to be seen.

  That image of me is going to be ruined when she learns of the things I’ve kept hidden.

  I croak, “I wouldn’t be too sure of that. You don’t want to see everything.”

  She waits for me to explain.

  My voice gets hoarser. “There’s a reason my family—the Blackwoods, keep a low profile. There’s a reason why nobody in Silver Falls knows of us. All of it is to keep a family secret hidden.”

  “A…family secret? What are you talking about, Leo?”

  “The Blackwoods have dark roots, Belle. We’re weeds in the garden. We thrive and grow, but it’s always been at the expense of other people.” I pause, and exhale, “We’re a crime family.”

  She blinks. “What?”

  “For generations, my ancestors have been a part of an organized crime syndicate. It’s what I was born into. It’s what I was trained for since I was a young boy. And it’s what I became.”

  Her voice is quiet. “What about your business?”

  “It’s real,” I say. “The investment management firm is what I do full-time now. But before that, I had another life. One in which I did despicable things.”

  I tell her everything.

  The shootings, the dealings, the men I called brothers.

  “Where?” she asks.

  “The East Coast,” I answer.

  “All of it?”

  “Most of it.”

  “Why?” she asks.

  “Freedom wasn’t a choice I had. My mother died when I was twelve, and my father took me under his wing and taught me everything he knew. He was the kingpin. He owned the streets, and he made me his second-in-command.”

  She shakes her head slightly. “Was that what you wanted?”

  “It was all I knew.”

  It’s a shameful thing to admit, but it’s the truth. When I was young, I didn’t know a life outside of crime.

  I didn’t consider that if I stood up for myself, I could have the luxury of options. That I could decide what I wanted to do with my own life.

  “You don’t like your father though,” she says.

  “I hate him. With a passion. Always have, always will.”

  “Was it because of something he did?”

  “It’s more of a question of what he didn’t do. He was absent from my life for the most part. He gave my mother and I this estate to live in—one of many he owns. But he was never here. My mother pined after him every single day, which made me hate him even more. The final straw though, was when he didn’t show up for her funeral.”

  “He didn’t show up for his own wife’s funeral?”

  I remember it like it was yesterday.

  Everyone who knew my mother was there that spring morning. Everyone except the person
she loved the most.

  The sky was a cloudless blue. The garden flowers were just starting to bloom.

  I placed light pink carnations on her casket, and waited for him to show up.

  He didn’t.

  He came home two days later, and told me to pack my things. That’s when I knew that I hated my father.

  He was a weak man.

  His eyes were bloodshot, and his cheeks were sunken. He’d been crying, but he wasn’t even brave enough to come to her funeral.

  Maybe it was because he knew that she deserved better.

  Maybe it was because he finally realized what he had lost.

  Whatever the reason was, he wasn’t there, and I cried myself hoarse that night. And I didn’t know which parent I cried harder for.

  “My mother wasn’t his wife,” I tell Belle, my voice cracking. “He was a wanderer. He never settled down with anyone.”

  Belle’s fingertips touch my forearm, trying to offer a small comfort.

  I take her wrist, and kiss the back of her hand.

  “I’ve done some terrible things, Belle. Either directly or indirectly, I participated in despicable activities. I was beyond disillusioned, believing things about myself that weren’t even true. I was a broken child, and I was broken even more so I could fit into the mold that my father set out for me.”

  Her eyes well up with tears. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry? Not disgusted?”

  A corner of her mouth twitches. “It’s going to take more than that to send me running.”

  “I hope that day never comes,” I murmur, tucking her hair behind her ear.

  Why is it that with every day that passes, we’re brought even closer together?

  I thought I was insanely attracted to her the first time I heard her voice. But that’s nothing compared to what I feel for her now.

  This is more than just some skin-deep attraction.

  We have connected on a heart-to-heart level, and nothing can shake that.

  Our pain, our pasts, our dreams. All of it just brought us closer together.

  “What would you have done differently if your father didn’t make you join the…the mafia?”

  I think back to when I was younger.

  When my mother was still in my life.