The Rossi Crime Family: The Complete Five Book Mafia Series

by J. L. Beck

  With a primal growl, and no patience I bury my face between her trembling thighs. I drag my tongue across her already swollen clit and chuckle as she bucks underneath me.

  “Too late now. You’re going to take my tongue inside your virgin pussy, and you’re going to enjoy it.” I hook my arms underneath her legs, grabbing the outsides of her thighs. I hold her in place so she can’t squirm away from me, and she tries, fuck does she, but the fight in her is nothing compared to the carnal need inside of me.

  I dip my tongue into her tight channel, and she buries her fingers into my hair, grabbing two handfuls, her nails scrape against my scalp and my muscles ripple with pleasure. Instead of trying to push me off, she shamelessly pulls me closer, pressing her legs wider while shoving my head closer to her pussy and fuck am I more than happy to oblige.

  I reward her by tonguing her pussy, dipping inside of her as deep as I can go. I pull away, just to lift her up a few more inches. I spread her legs even further to give me better access. I want her exposed, not an inch of her pretty pink flesh hiding from me.

  “Roman, I want you,” She purrs breathlessly.

  Maintaining control is important...it’s what’s keeping me from just fucking her across the bed right now. I flick my tongue over the tight ring of her asshole and lick her from there all the way up to her clit. If she gives me the chance, I’ll claim her there too. I’ll claim her anywhere she lets me.

  The moment my tongue reaches the tight bundle of nerves at the top of her slit she comes apart. Her tiny little body shakes, and ripples with pleasure, and her nails dig into my scalp raining fire and pleasure on my body. I revel in the pain of her nails digging into my skin.

  I want more of it. I need more of it.

  “Oh…Roman…” My name falls from her lips like a breath.

  Her swollen clit pulses on my tongue as her sweet cream gushes out of her fluttering entrance and into my mouth.

  “Fuck Sophie…” I moan against her mound. I feel myself unraveling. She’s tugging at my control, at my resolve, and I’m so close to losing it.

  Our moans echo throughout the room in harmony as I keep licking her until she’s clean. I don’t stop until the last tremor of her orgasm has run through her and she’s lying beneath me panting.

  I start making my way back up her body, planting kisses all over her skin. This time I don’t take my time... no, this time is chased. With one hand I flick the button of my jeans and pull them and my boxers off until they slide down my legs. I step out of them and kick them to the side. I clench my jaw as I stare down at her heated skin, the bite marks that mare her flesh, and the completely melted expression her beautiful features.

  “Are you on birth control?” I grunt, taking my cock into my hand. I pump it a few times, swiping my thumb over the tip.

  “No,” she whispers into the stiff air, looking a bit panicked as her eyes move away from mine. “Does that change things?”

  Does that change anything? I almost laugh. She has no idea how hot her naivety is, how much it makes me want her more.

  “No. It doesn’t change shit. I want to know because I want to come inside of you,” I groan hoping that she doesn't say no. Hell I might still do it even if she does. I’m too far gone to care right now.

  Fuck I want to come inside of her so badly. I don't have a fucking condom on me, but I wouldn't want one anyways. Apprehension appears in her blue eyes, and I lick my lips, before lifting my hand to the side of her face.

  “I want to feel you. I want to feel you squeeze every velvety inch of my cock while I’m inside of you. I want to fill you up and watch my come spill out of your tight little hole. So, you want that? Can I come inside of you?” I look deeply into her eyes, and I wonder if she’s worried about me getting her pregnant? The thought is intriguing. I keep telling myself I don’t want her...but I’m not strong enough to lie to myself. Still, I need to give her a choice. “I can pull out if you don’t.”

  I more than want her...I want to breathe her.

  She swallows, nodding her head. “I want that too. I want to feel you inside me,” she murmurs.

  Fuck. Does she even know what she’s saying? What I want to do to her?

  I reposition myself, leaning over her, resting my weight on my forearms beside her head. Gazing down between our bodies, I line my dick with her center, then bring my gaze back to hers.

  I half expect her to try to stop me, to come to her senses at the last minute, but she doesn’t.

  With her small hands on my shoulders, she tries to pull me closer, urging me to take her, lifting her hips, squirming against me. I drag the head of my dick across her slit to coat her juices against the head of my cock. I grip onto her hip with bruising force, needing control.

  Slow. Gentle. Slow. I exhale...

  “Fuck, Sophie,” I groan. A growl rips from deep within my chest as I dip my tip inside her. Her walls stretch around my head, and I can feel the resistance. Her body is fighting me, refusing to take me, but she’ll adjust…

  “Roman,” she squeaks from below me. I lift my eyes from where our bodies meet to look at her. Tears well in her beautiful blue depths. I want to soothe her, comfort her, but I also want to lick away her tears and take her without mercy.

  “Breathe...nice and deep breathes. You’re tight, but you’ll adjust to me.”

  She gulps, and her grip on my shoulders tightens.

  “It hurts,” she whimpers as I kiss her and move another inch inside her. The feeling is so divine, all I want to do is be all the way inside her. I want to be deeper—and that’s exactly what I’m doing.

  I keep pushing into her, slowly at first. Sweat pools in the dip of my lower back as I concentrate on not slamming into her. She deserves a first time that’s special...perfect.

  Instead of focusing on that primal need, I keep moving inside her, letting her adjust as she swallows my cock inch by glorious inch. A pained whimper has me pausing for a second, but the moan that comes out of her mouth directly after has me moving my hips forward.

  My entire body shakes, and my pulse pounds inside my ears and just when I thought the feeling couldn’t get any better, it does. I thrust my hips forward an inch and bottom out inside her tightness, my balls pressing against her skin, while her juices gather around the base of my cock. My tip grazes the end of her channel and I release my hold on her hip to grab onto the bed sheets beside her.

  It’s like she was made for me.

  A perfect fucking fit.

  “Are you in all the way?” she murmurs softly. Her dark lashes fan against her pink cheeks as she looks up at me through hooded eyes. I flex my hips forward and smirk, feeling her nails dig into my shoulders.

  “Yes…” I grit out, my teeth pressed together so tightly, I can feel my molars grinding. “You feel so fucking good. You have no idea what I want to do to you.” So many fucking things…she has no idea, and if she did, she’d probably run for the fucking hills.

  “I’m going to start moving…so just relax, and don’t tighten up too much.”

  I pull out a few inches, then thrust back into her soft channel. This time, I can’t manage to go as slow. I know I should, but I feel like if I don't start moving faster, I might combust. My balls have never been so heavy, and my dick has never been so hard.

  Sex has never been like this before. I’m not sure it can get better than this. Now that I’m eight inches deep inside Sophie, I know she’s the only drug I truly need. She soothes the beast and makes the darkness bearable. I want to keep her, right here below me.

  Sophie whimpers a little, but if she’s in pain, she doesn’t show it. I lean forward, resting my head into the crook of her head, inhaling our mixed scents, willing god to give me the strength not to destroy her. I plow forward, pushing deeper, if that’s possible.

  A gasp fills the air, but this one sounds more like pleasure than pain. It's all the confirmation I need to start moving.

  “I want you to come again, with my cock inside you. Can you do that
?” I pant into her skin while moving my cock in and out of her.

  I thrust my hips upward and pull back, lifting her by the ass, forcing myself deeper. I want her to feel me for days...for the rest of her fucking life.

  “Yes…” she mewls, her core tightening around my length, causing specks of black to form in my vision. Fuck yes. It's like she knows exactly what I need.

  I slip my arms under her and snake them behind her back, gripping onto her shoulders from behind so I can hold her in place and push myself in deeper. I grind into her, my cock so fucking deep inside of her, he might get lost. I speed up my movements, my thrusts becoming rougher, my panting louder and moans deeper while I lose myself in her.

  Her nails dig into my skin probably drawing blood, it feels like it, and maybe it makes me sick because and I want her to. I want her to mark my body like I want to mark hers. I want everybody to see that she belongs to me and I belong to her.

  I push into her relentlessly until her pussy starts to quiver around my shaft. There's a bite of pain to my thrust, but there's also pleasure and right now I'm banking on getting her over the edge.

  She cries out in pure bliss, her whole body stiffening underneath me as her back arches off the bed. Her walls squeeze me so tightly practically pulling my orgasm out of me. I can’t breathe for a moment and I know there's no holding back now. I slam into her pussy a few more times, holding her so possessively I'm sure I'm bruising her.

  She whimpers in my arms, but I'm too far gone to care.

  My impending orgasm hits me so fucking hard, I think I might pass out. Wave after wave washes over me while I continue to thrust inside her, coaxing out every last drop of sticky cum.

  I only stop moving when I know my muscles are depleted and every last drop of cum has left my balls and is now deep inside of Sophie.

  I’ve never fucked anyone without a condom before, but I’ve never had the urge to either. Not like I want her. Now, after having her, I don't think I can ever go back. Sophie has ruined me for all other women. She’s it for me, and what a terrifying thought that is. Collapsing on top of her, I bury my face into her hair, her skin.

  Thick strands tickle my nose as I breathe her in. I can barely keep my eyes open after the intense release that claimed me, but I don't want to fall asleep on top of her, so I roll to the side, taking her with me.

  I settle her on my chest and pull the blanket over us before closing my eyes again. It's been a long time since I felt this tired.

  And that euphoric feeling only claims me more when she nuzzles her face into my chest.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her, half asleep. I was rougher than I intended to be, but I don't think I tore her or made her bleed any more than she was supposed to.

  “Yes...that was…it felt really good.” Her voice sounds just as sleepy as I feel.

  “Good, ’cause I’m planning on doing this many more times with you.” This and more. My mind is already conjuring up all the other ways I will have her, and I will have her, again and again.

  Chapter Eight

  Sophie

  I try to digest everything that has happened over the last few days. I’ve spent most of my time with Roman. He took me to the gym with him when he went to work out yesterday. I stayed in his office most of the time reading, and when we got home, he ordered Chinese and we watched a movie. It almost felt like we were a couple—a real one.

  The highlight of it all is him letting me sleep in his bed, cuddled deep into his side. I tried to initiate sex, but Roman said I would be too sore and he wanted to wait a few days before we did anything again.

  Thinking about my first time with Roman has my insides on fire. It was unlike anything I felt before. Roman touched a part of me I didn’t know existed. He claimed me, and I don’t even know if he realizes he did.

  Roman’s confession to using drugs and fear of hurting me swirled around inside my head. I slowly pieced the puzzle together, and Roman’s weird mood swings made much more sense to me now.

  I’ve never really seen him taking the drugs, but I can tell by his mood if he is high or not, among other things. Sometimes, there’s a look in his eyes, a darkness that surrounds him. Other times, he seems unhinged and barely in control, and in between those times, he acts like he doesn't have a worry in the world. He jokes around, laughing, even though it doesn't always seem genuine.

  Besides my constant worry of him using too much and losing control, I have had one other thing on my mind.

  “What happened to that man the other night?” I ask Roman as we sit in the kitchen eating breakfast together. I chew the piece of apple until it’s all but liquid.

  “Why does it matter?” His response makes me frown.

  “Because I want to know what happened.” The look in Roman’s eyes tells me I shouldn’t push for an answer, but I want one. I narrow my gaze, meeting his with the same determination.

  “Seriously, you can’t just let it go?” He shakes his head. Anger surges deep inside me. Why doesn’t he want to tell me? Everything feels like a secret with him, and I hate it.

  He kills people every Friday night, wears their blood on his fists like an animal, so why is it so hard for him to tell me what happened?

  “Why won’t you just tell me the truth?”

  “You really want me to say it out loud?” he yells, twisting toward me. I can see the mask of fury overtaking his features.

  “Yes,” I yell back, trying to brace myself for what he is about to say. I know it’s not something I’m going to want to hear, but I still want him to say it.

  “I fucking killed him!” He stands up suddenly, the chair tipping over and crashing to the floor. His body vibrates with anger. “I fucking killed him because he touched you. Is that what you want to hear? That I strangled a guy with my bare hands?”

  His hands grip onto the edge of the counter, his knuckles turning white. I feel the hair on the back of my neck rise. He’s teetering on the edge, and I don’t want to push him over, because I don’t know what will happen. Right now, I wish I could find those pills and flush them down the toilet.

  “You didn’t have to kill him, Roman. You chose too. Yeah, he was being a jerk, but you can’t go around killing people just because they do something you don’t want them to.” My voice comes out weak, soft.

  Roman’s once soft gaze hardens. “Why does it matter why I did it? I fucking did it, and I’d do it again, and it’s already done. Scum like that doesn’t deserve to live. Would you rather I had let him touch you? Hurt you? Killing him was easy, like a slow jog.” He smiles, but it’s not his typical warm smile. This one is dark, sinister.

  “I didn’t even blink. Do you know how many people I’ve killed, Sophie? How many men I’ve made bleed?”

  I have no idea, but knowing he killed two in one day without any guilt chills me to the bone.

  “No, and I don’t want to know. I don’t want to see you as a killer, Roman.” My grip on the spoon in my hands is hard, the metal digging into my skin. Roman leans into me, his eyes roaming over my body, like he’s trying to decide where to take his next bite.

  He hasn’t acted this way since the night we had sex, and I don’t know how to handle him when he’s like this. His mood swings give me serious whiplash, and while I want to think he wouldn’t hurt me, his warnings are clear.

  “Why not? What would you like to see me as, Sophie? A white knight? Prince charming? I’m a murderer—it’s what I am and what I’ll always be. Learn to deal with it or...” he trails off, as if he’s afraid to finish. Deafening silence hangs between us for a moment.

  “Or what, Roman?” I let go of my spoon, and it falls into the bowl with a loud clatter. I watch as he releases his grip on the counter top and runs his fingers through his unruly hair. He’s grappling for control, afraid he’ll say something he can’t take back.

  Exhaling deeply, he shakes his head, “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  The doorbell rings, interrupting our argument. Roman pushes from the island, gi
ving me a grim look as he heads to the front door. Once he disappears around the corner, I let out a breath.

  I don’t know what to think when he’s like this...what to say. Part of me wants to hug him and tell him he’s going to be okay while another part wants to slap him.

  A few moments later, he returns with Ivan, Violet trailing behind him. They walk into the kitchen, smiles on their faces, completely unaware of the fight we just had. Once they see me, both their smiles fade. Ivan’s face turns into a mask of fury. His fist is clenched, and he looks just as scary as Roman does when he gets mad.

  “Did you fucking hit her? I told you to stop taking that shit. It fucks with your head. Makes you act out in violence,” he yells at Roman, who has his own mask of fury in place.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Are you seriously accusing me of hitting her?”

  Violet’s face turns ghostly pale as she steps in front of me and inspects my face up close.

  “What happened?” she asks quietly, sitting down next to me.

  “Roman didn’t hit me,” I say loud enough for Ivan to hear as well. “I got hit when Roman took me to his fight. It’s all right, though. It’s nearly healed.”

  “You took her to one of your fights? That’s almost as bad. God, what are you thinking?” Ivan keeps complaining, and even though I know Ivan is right, I have this irrational urge to protect Roman, even if it’s just from a verbal assault from his brother.

  “Don’t tell me you came all this way to insult me. If so, you can go right out the fucking door you came in,” Roman snaps. I can’t really blame him for being angry. Its apparent Ivan doesn’t think all that highly of his brother.

  Ivan takes a deep breath, attempting to calm himself. “No, I didn’t. I came for something very important. Can we all just calm down and take a seat?”

  Roman huffs in annoyance, but sits back down in the free chair next to me. Violet takes my hand under the table and squeezes it gently as Ivan takes the seat beside her.