The Rossi Crime Family: The Complete Five Book Mafia Series

by J. L. Beck

  “I want you, Damon,” I purr, reaching for him.

  I barely recognize my voice as my own, it’s so heavy with need.

  Damon lets out what sounds like a primal growl before he’s back on me, his eyes as black as the night sky.

  I spread my legs as wide as I can to give him full access, and he takes advantage. My body feels like molten lava, his gaze burning through me. Need floods me as I watch him fist his swollen cock, rubbing the tip all along my wet slit. My pussy clenches, begging with each flutter for more—for him.

  “I want you, Damon. I want you to fuck me like you did last time we were here.” I lift my gaze to his and cup his cheeks. I see confliction in his gaze.

  “I...I don’t know if I can.” His voice cracks, and the way he’s looking at me kills me. But I want him to know I trust him, that I love him. And I want him to know he’ll never hurt me.

  “You won’t hurt me.” I stretch to kiss him again, molding my lips to his. “I trust you, Damon. I love you, and I know you won’t do anything to hurt me.”

  “I hurt you last time. I can’t do that again. I vowed I wouldn’t, and I won’t.”

  His fingers trail down my arms, and I shiver at his touch, excitement zinging through my veins.

  “Only in the beginning, and only because I wasn’t ready. Trust me, I’m ready now, and I want you. I want you so bad it hurts.” I lick my lips.

  “Fuck, Keira.” I watch him swallow. His gaze turns heated, and I can tell the moment he chooses to let go. There’s a newfound roughness in his touch, and it’s exhilarating.

  “If you change your mind, just say the word,” he murmurs against my lips before slanting his mouth against mine. The kiss is all-consuming, stealing air from my lungs. When his fingers dig into my hair, tilting my head back, I think I might explode.

  He doesn’t stick to kissing my lips—no, his mouth trails down my neck and over my chest, sucking on the tender flesh over my pulse. I fist the sheets as pleasure fills my veins.

  I’m ready to melt when he suddenly pulls back, then stands next to the bed. I miss his skin on mine and whimper at the loss. Grabbing me under my knees, he pulls me toward him so my ass is hanging right at the edge of the bed.

  His huge hands maintain their grip on my knees, and I can feel the silky, smooth head of his cock at my entrance. The contact makes my back arch off the bed. I’m ready…so ready for him. My pussy drips with need.

  Peering down at me, his dark orbs remain on mine as he spears me with his cock. Air fizzles from my lungs, and my eyes drift closed for a moment as I relish in the slight burn of pleasure.

  I cry out in bliss. There is no pain this time as his cock slides into my channel with ease. My eyes flicker open, but remain hooded as I watch him pull out and slam back in without pause.

  His pupils are so dilated, I can’t see any color. He’s never looked so dangerous when touching me, and yet I don’t feel any fear at all…only desire.

  My hands reach for the sheets—for something that will help ground me to this bed.

  He lets go of one of my knees and pushes it to the bed, spreading me wide. With his free hand, his fingers travel down my inner thigh to where we are joined, finding my center, and he puts the rough pad of his thumb on my swollen clit, all while never ceasing to thrust his rock-hard cock into me.

  With him fucking me like this and his skilled fingers on my clit, it doesn't take me long to be panting and moaning like a wild cat in heat. My body thrashes, and I feel the orgasm coming.

  Starting with a tingle low in my belly, the feeling spreads through my body like a wildfire. Every cell in my body is burning up, scorching away—only to be reborn in the next moment.

  I’m pretty sure I scream his name, my mind lost in need and lust. Thinking has been replaced with the instinct to take and give pleasure.

  My voice is still useless by the time Damon flips me, bending me over the edge of the bed. He doesn't waste any time, entering me again before I know what’s happening, making me moan into the mattress.

  “Is this what you wanted, wife? To be owned? To have my cock claim you?”

  I'm a mess, and I can’t even form a coherent response, so I just moan louder.

  His hands roam over my ass and back, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and then out of nowhere, I feel a sting, the effects of his hand having slapped one of my ass cheeks. I slip forward and sigh as he massages the pain away.

  “Mmmm, your pussy is impossibly wet. I can hear how much you want me.” His hot breath touches my ears, the words sending me spiraling out of control. In this new position, he is hitting a different spot, a deeper one. This angle means I can feel his head hit the back of my channel, leaving his balls to slap my clit.

  His hands settle on my hips—which he uses as leverage—pulling me toward him every time he thrusts. I can feel each stroke in my bones.

  I don’t know how long he fucks me like this. Could be minutes or hours, but I’m somewhere lost in oblivion where time doesn't exist.

  Only pleasure and bliss. Only Damon Rossi.

  When I feel another orgasm sneaking up on me, the sensation is so strong, I freak out for a split second, wondering if it might be too much. My pussy clenches so hard, it nearly hurts, and every muscle inside me tenses. My body goes rigid for a moment, then a warm wave of ecstasy washes over me.

  I can feel Damon slow while I ride out every last aftershock.

  “I love it when you milk my cock like that. When your pussy grips me so tight, my balls ache. And you’re going to do it one more time for me.”

  I honestly don’t know if I can. I’m already so wrung out. I don’t know how Damon keeps this up. His stamina is insane.

  His dick still feels hard—maybe even harder than when he started fucking me. My throat aches as I swallow, and my voice is hoarse from moaning and crying so much. All I can muster is a quiet whimper.

  “I…I don’t know if I can,” I whimper, my body shaking, my heart racing out of my chest. I have a hard time getting the words out between Damon’s steady thrusts—each one promising love and endless pleasure.

  “Oh, you will, baby. You’re gonna come so fucking hard around my cock. I want you to squeeze me, give me that orgasm, baby. Squeeze my cock. Milk every last drop of cum from me.”

  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 pleasurable 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 Twenty-Two

  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 t
hink 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.”