Protect Me: A Mafia Romance (The Rossi Crime Family Book 1)

by Cassandra Hallman

  He doesn't sound like he is going to take no for an answer, and something about his demanding tone has me riding another wave of pleasure.

  I feel a hand ghost against my ass cheeks, squeezing and kneading the flesh. Without warning, he reaches around and drags his fingers over my sensitive clit, past where we’re joined.

  “You’re so fucking wet. Your juices are dripping down your leg.”

  Normally, that would be embarrassing, but it’s not. It’s hot as hell.

  I whimper, wishing he would rub my clit again, but he doesn't.

  Instead, he slips his fingers between my ass cheeks. I gasp when he finds my puckered asshole and starts to massage it.

  My back stiffens, and Damon moves his other hand from my hip and pushes me down, forcing me deeper into the mattress.

  I feel the panic start, my body clamming up.

  “Keira, I’m not going to hurt you. I promise this is going to be nothing but pleasureable for you.” His voice is so reassuring, I sink back into the mattress. “Just relax. You’re going to like this. You’re going to come so fucking hard, baby.”

  I want to tell him okay, but I am too far gone. I’m long past speaking. I do what he says and relax, letting him do whatever he wants to my body.

  He continues massaging my forbidden hole, synchronizing it with his thrusts. Within a few strokes, I’m whimpering, feeling my orgasm build deep in my belly. I start to appreciate the foreign feeling of his finger on my asshole, and when my pussy starts to quiver, he slips one of his thick digits inside my ass.

  Fear and excitement tingle through me as he continues to thrust deep inside my pussy while keeping his finger inside my ass. There is something so wrong...so dirty about this. It gives it an edge I can’t really explain.

  Suddenly, I want more. I want him to keep pushing, keep violating me. I shove my ass back into his finger, letting him know I want more.

  “I told you would like this,” he chuckles.

  “Mmmhhh,” is all I manage to get out, and the sounds are muffled by the mattress. My body shakes as he starts to move his finger in and out, slow at first, and faster as he pumps his cock deeper and deeper.

  “You’re sure a dirty girl. You’re my dirty girl.”

  “Yes! Yes!” I scream, finding my voice.

  “Come for me, beautiful. Come all over this cock. Show me who owns this cock.”

  His dirty words are all I need, and I fly, soaring over the edge. His finger slips from my ass, and he continues his thrust.

  “I’m c-comminnggggg…” I cry. Blinding light appears before my eyes as I squeeze them shut.

  As my pussy squeezes the life out of Damon’s cock, he pounds into me harder. His grunts fill the air, and his thrusts are so deep, I think he might kill me.

  “Fuck, baby…your pussy,” he hisses through his teeth, and in seconds, I feel his warm seed fill my womb.

  He holds onto me tightly, thrusting a few more times before pulling out all the way. When he does, I sag against the mattress, unable to do much of anything but breathe. His body lands beside mine, and he tucks me into his sweaty chest as if he too feels like he needs to be touching me all the time.

  My eyes drift closed as I feel the thud of his heartbeat beneath my hands.

  “I love you, Keira. I love you so much. I’m positive I loved you even before I met you.”

  I sigh. “Thank you for protecting me...for saving me,” I murmur against his chest. “Thank you for letting me love you.” My eyes grow heavier with each breath, and I know I’ll never be safer than I am right now in Damon’s loving arms.

  Chapter 22

  Damon

  She fell in love with a criminal…a fucking criminal—a man who didn’t deserve her love. A man who was certain he was unable to love in return. She took him and shaped him into a man worthy of love. She didn’t know what she had done or how much she had changed him, but every time he looked at her, he knew he wanted to be good—if only for her.

  Thoughts swirl around my head, making it hard to sleep. Maybe a little midnight snack will help ease the insomnia. Gazing down at Keira, I feel I don’t want to leave her, but I’m not waking her up to bring her downstairs with me.

  She needs her sleep; she barely gets enough as it is. I peel her naked body from mine. She’s sticky with sex, and I love that my scent clings to her skin, marking her as mine. I pull the comforter to her shoulders and slip from the bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants.

  I tiptoe from the room and close the door. Hopefully, she doesn’t wake up while I’m gone. Being away from her even for a short time enrages me. I want her with me everywhere I go—to be my shadow. But even possessive-as-hell Damon realizes how fucked up that is.

  The hall is dark, but I know this house like the back of my hand, and this monster isn’t scared of anything. I walk down the hallway and hear a soft cry. It pierces the air, meeting my ears instantly.

  I turn my head, pointing it in the direction I think I heard the cry. It’s so strange. It sounds exactly like the noise I heard the last time I was here.

  I hold my breath, so there is absolute silence surrounding me, and for a few moments there is. Then I think I must be going crazy for the second fucking time when it goes away, but a few seconds later, I hear it again.

  My feet move to follow the sound when I hear something else. I stop again and strain my ears.

  Is that Xander’s voice?

  I shake my head. There is no w—

  Another low cry echoes through the hall, interrupting my thoughts, accompanied by Xander’s soft voice. My brother’s tone sounds soothing and kind, warm even. There’s no fucking way that’s my brother, but it’s definitely his voice. I know it.

  What the fuck?

  I move farther down the hall and closer to the door where I’m pretty sure the crying is coming from. My stomach does a summersault the moment my hand grips the knob. I hear Xander’s voice clearly now, and I’m more confused than I’ve ever been in my entire life.

  The crying has stopped, replaced by the soft cooing of a baby.

  This must be some sick joke. Some twisted fucking mind game of his. There is no way I’m going to believe my brother is caring for a baby…or has one.

  I push the door open, whole-heartedly expecting him to be holding a tape recorder. What I see is biggest mindfuck of all.

  A nursery decorated in light blue. A large, white crib. And Xander sitting in a rocking chair, holding a baby.

  A. Fucking. Baby.

  I can’t take my eyes off the baby he’s cradling in his arms. What the fuck is going on? Did he steal someone’s kid?

  “Come on in, little brother. It’s time for you to meet your nephew.”

  I think I’ve lost the ability to blink—hell, to even speak or walk for that matter. This has got to be a nightmare.

  I watch the small baby in Xander’s arms reach up and wrap his tiny fingers around Xander’s thumb.

  “Don’t just stand there, come look at him. He has a strong grip all ready. He’ll be big and strong in no time.” It’s Xander’s voice I’m hearing, but I’m unfamiliar with the tone. And the words don’t make sense.

  Once my legs start working again, I step all the way into the room and move to where Xander is sitting. I look down at the small child. He has big brown eyes and black hair—just like Xander.

  “Have you ever held a baby?”

  Xander doesn’t wait for my answer. We both know what it is. Who the fuck would let me hold their baby?

  Apparently, Xander. Because in the next moment, he gets up and places the baby in my arms.

  I instinctively cradle it to my body, still not sure this isn't some fucked up joke.

  “Where did you get this thing?” I question, staring down at the little boy who looks like a replica of my brother.

  Xander chuckles. “I'm sure I don't need to explain how babies are made, and don’t call my son a thing again. His name is Quinton.”

  I blink. “Okay, but seriously, where
did you get him? We both know you will never claim a woman, and last I knew, you need a woman to give birth—not a man.”

  There is no amusement on his face. In fact, he looks pissed.

  “Loving a woman is a weakness I cannot afford.” He moves his gaze down to the baby still cradled in my arms. “And yes, a woman gave birth to my son…obviously, but she is out of the picture now.” Xander takes him from my arms and places him into the crib.

  He wraps him in a blanket and winds up the contraption hanging from the side of the railing. It starts to play a soft lullaby. It's such a mundane thing to do, and yet, watching my brother do it is anything but.

  It's so strange. I've seen him kill in cold blood. I’ve witnessed his hands crushing a man's throat, and now, those same hands are cradling a baby.

  “You killed her, didn't you?” my voice booms over the sound of the music. Of course I know the answer already, but Xander’s evil smirk confirms it.

  “Loyalty means everything to me. I discovered she was hiding things, exploiting information, so I did what I do with loose ends.”

  I roll my eyes. “You ended the life of your child’s mother? How do you think he is going to feel about it when he’s grown and finds out?”

  I consider what I feel like when Keira becomes pregnant someday. I could never picture killing her after she gave birth. The thought of killing her for any reason has my stomach twisting in pain.

  “Don't look at me like that,” Xander sneers. “She used me. She got herself pregnant, and then after she had our son, she tried to run away with him. Like I would ever allow that.”

  That’s the thing about my brother. He offers zero chances. He’s ruthless. For a long time, I didn't even think he had a heart—until I watched him cradle his baby boy to his chest.

  I run a hand through my hair. I can't stop looking at the crib. It’s impossibly hard to rationalize my criminally insane brother has a kid, and that he’s raising it on his own. How the hell can he be a good dad when our dad wasn’t?

  “How is Keira?” The lazy smile on his lips bothers me.

  “Fine. Shaken up, but she was more concerned with my well-being than her own. The bullet was meant for her.”

  “I told you to come here as soon as you could, but like always, you disagreed.” Xander shakes his head, walking out of the room, a frustrated scowl on his face.

  I follow him out. “What do you mean you told me? You knew about this, didn't you?” I'm livid. My blood pressure spikes. Of course he knew.

  He doesn't answer, and he doesn't stop walking until we reach the study. I'm clenching my fists so hard, the muscles in my forearm ache.

  “Answer me, Xander! Did you know? Because if you knew and something would've happened to Keira…”

  “You'd what?” He lifts a brow, a glass of whiskey in his hands. “Shoot me? Kill me? What would you do to your big brother to protect the woman you love?”

  Love…

  “You don't know shit…” Fear for Keira’s safety trickles up and down my spine.

  Amusement twinkles in my brother’s dark gaze. “Admit it. You love her. That's why you didn’t hesitate to marry her. It’s okay to admit you have a weakness.”

  My jaw aches as I start to grind my molars. “She's not a fucking weakness.”

  “But she is, isn't she?”

  Is Keira a weakness? Maybe. But she can hold her own. It’s my job—as her man—to be concerned for her safety, though. That’s what a good man does.

  “You judge me like you have no weakness of your own, but I must ask you, who's going to protect your son from all your enemies?”

  Xander’s facial features turn murderous. “My son is not a weakness—not if no one knows he exists.”

  I almost burst into a fit of laughter. “You're going to hide your son from the world because of a few enemies.”

  He brings the amber liquid to his lips, but doesn’t drink. “We’re past having a few enemies, little brother. Maybe when you were an active member of the family, we had a few, but I’ve done some things…changed things—and that’s put more fire on us than we previously had.”

  “Okay, and hiding your son from the world forever is going to do what?”

  “I’m not hiding him from the world. I’m hiding him until it’s safe—or until he can protect himself.”

  Clearly, I’m not understanding this. “You’re aware of who you are and what you do for a living, right?”

  Xander’s gaze turns cold. “I am. Are you? Because you continue to talk down to me like I’m scum beneath your shoe. I saved your whore upstairs from death, and I brought you back into the family. I’ve welcomed you with open arms, little brother, and all you’ve done is shit on me.”

  “Call Keira a whore one more time and I will slit your fucking throat.” I know I’m feeding right into his hand—right into his sick game—but I won’t let him talk about Keira like that…not when she isn’t here to defend herself.

  “This seems like very irrational behavior for someone who isn’t in love.” He has a dark smile plastered across his face.

  His mood swings give me whiplash, and I want to punch him in the face a thousand times over.

  “It doesn’t matter, Xander. If I love Keira, then I do…so fucking what. Love isn’t a weakness, and the sooner you learn that, the better your life will be.”

  He chuckles, then takes a huge gulp of his drink.

  “You know what, brother,” I sneer. “There is no hope for you. You’re heartless and as sick as our father.”

  My words seem to cause him to snap. An eruption of violence breaks free, and within seconds, he’s tossing the glass against the wall behind me. It shatters, and the remaining contents drip down the wall, but I don’t flinch. My brother doesn’t scare me. The only thing he could possibly hurt is upstairs, and I’d kill him if he ever laid a hand on her again.

  “I’m nothing like our father. Nothing,” he booms. “In fact, I’ve done every single fucking thing I could to make certain I didn’t turn into that bastard, but since you’re so keen on assuming I am just like him, why don’t you fight this fucking war against him on your own?”

  My brow furrows, confusion settling in. “What are you talking about? He’s been dead for years. I watched you shoot him right after he shot me. He’s dead.”

  A darkness falls over Xander’s face. “No, we thought he was dead, but I can assure you he’s not. And now that we both have a weakness worth fighting for, we need to protect the Rossi empire. We need to protect what’s ours.”

  I can’t believe my fucking ears. “You’re telling me our father isn’t dead?”

  Xander stares me straight in the eye. “I’m telling you our father isn’t dead, and he’s coming for us next.”

  The ground beneath my feet seems to disappear, and I realize how bad this is going to get.

  War. A full-out war is going to take place. Xander and I won once, but can we beat death again?

  Can we beat the monster without becoming one ourselves?

  The End

  Damon and Keria’s story might be over, but Xander’s book is just starting. If you loved Protect Me make sure you preorder your copy of Keep Me.

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  Read on for a look at book three…

  K

  Prologue

  Xander

  The gun was heavy in my sweaty hands. I wasn’t afraid of killing him, my father. I’m sure he knew it was coming far before I decided to do it, but tonight, it was the night. He wouldn’t hurt Damon and me ever again and I’d be fucking sure of it.

  I walked down the dimly lit hallway, and then down the steps and towards the patio.

  “I’ve always thought you were the weakest link to this family. It seems the beatings never really did anything to you. You’ve still shown weakness...and weakness just isn’t acceptable in our family
.”My father’s voice carries through the house as he talks down at Damon.

  Anger surges deep inside me, on the verge of exploding outward. I see the glint of a gun in the moonlight that pours from the night sky as I turn the corner.

  “You’re a piece of shit. A monster who will never amount to anything.” Damon spits, “And someday when you’re old, and grey I’m going to treat you the same fucking way you treated me and Xander.”

  I can’t see my father’s face at this moment but I’m positive there is a cruel smirk on his lips. I wonder if this is the moment I’ve been dreading. I knew it was coming for a while but I’m not sure this is it until I see my father raise the gun and point it at Damon.

  There’s not a damn bone within my body that is scared of killing my father, after all this is what he had planned for me, for us, right? I wait, watching, to see what his next move is.

  “You won’t be doing shit but letting the worms and bugs crawl through your decaying body.” My father flicks the safety and aims the gun. I don’t really understand why Damon still stands there, but he does, his eyes never wavering from dads.

  “Don’t make fun about it, just fucking do it.” Damon grits out, darkness resonating out of him, as soon as the words are said, everything seems to slow down.

  I don’t know why Damon and our father are fighting or what it was even about, but when I see him squeeze the trigger on his gun I know I have to end him. He’d hurt us for so many years, abused, and killed those we loved.

  He was the real monster, and I was ready to put a bullet in his head.

  Lifting my gun I watched in horror as our father shot Damon in the shoulder. Maybe it was his intention, or maybe it wasn’t I don’t really know. I didn’t really care or stop to ask, in fact, I was past caring. He deserved to die.

  Flicking the safety off, my eyes met Damon’s and for a fraction of a second, he sees me. The real me, the man who had spent years taking beatings so his life could be easier. The poison of this world was slowly seeping into my veins, but it didn’t have to taint Damon.