Protect Me: A Mafia Romance (The Rossi Crime Family Book 1) Page 6

  I can hear the anguish in her voice. Is she jealous because Hayley gave me a blowjob, or afraid I won’t protect her?

  It sounds like she’s jealous, and that makes me smile. If she’s jealous, that means she might take me up on my offer. Then again, she probably won’t. She’s a fighter. A kitten with claws.

  “It sounds like someone’s jealous, but you don’t have to worry about that tonight. Tonight, I’m all yours, baby. And just to prove a point, so you don’t run again, I’m going to take that pretty little thing between your legs—and I’m going to enjoy every single second of it.”

  Her body shakes in my hold and I open the back door, tossing her against the bench seat of my car. If she thought I was a vicious bastard before, she has no fucking clue what she is in for.

  I’ll show her what happens when Damon Rossi’s mercy runs out.

  I drive home, clutching my steering wheel so tightly, the thing is in danger of ripping off. It takes everything inside me not to turn around and scream at her. So fucking what I was getting a blowjob. I was getting one because she refused to give me one, because she is nothing but a cock tease.

  I hear her quiet sobs from the backseat, but I don’t give a fuck right now. This is her own fault. She should have listened to me.

  Fuck…she should have listened. The idea of hurting her doesn’t sit well with me, but I have to do this. I have to prove I mean business. I’ve killed men for less; she can’t keep getting away with this behavior.

  The drive home is short, and when I turn into the driveway, I park inside the garage. My mind is still running rampant with anger. I can’t think of anything besides showing her the consequences of what happens when you disobey me. I get out of the car, but she makes no move to open the back door. I guess I’ll be a gentleman and do it for her. Reaching in, I grab her arm and pull her from the back seat. She whimpers in my hold, but I ignore it. I slam the door shut, drag her into the house, her feet digging into the floor the entire way to her room, then throw her onto the bed.

  When I pull the handcuffs from my back pocket, she scurries away from me, but she’s not fast enough—not to get away from me. I snatch her ankle and pull her back to the center of the bed.

  “Please, Damon…” she pleads, tears in her big brown eyes.

  I swallow down any and all emotions I feel for this woman, letting the anger continue to flow through my veins. I grab one of her arms and secure the handcuffs to it, then I pull her whole body up to the headboard and attach the other cuff around one of the bars.

  With one hand cuffed to the bed, she can kick and scream all she wants, but she isn’t going anywhere. I stand up, looking down at her like she is some kind of offering.

  Undoing my belt, I watch her whole body shake and her face contort in fear while I unzip myself pushing the dress slacks down until my rock-hard cock is free and my pants are on the floor, kicked away from my feet. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn't do this. Why I shouldn’t fuck you right now.”

  She looks up at me a moment, and I don’t think she is going to say anything at all, but then she does—and just like the rest of her body, her voice is shaking too.

  “Because you don’t really want to hurt me.” The tears stain her cheeks.

  Don’t I? I consider her words. I’ve been so consumed by rage since I found out she left, this might be the first time I actually stop to think. I need her to listen to me. I need her to be scared of me, but do I want to make that happen by hurting her? It’s the only way I know how.

  Do I really want to break her like this? Because that’s what I would do if I hurt her this way. I’d break her, and I can’t picture myself doing that to her.

  Watching tear after tear roll down her face and onto the pillow is starting to bother me more than I care to admit. I can feel the anger starting to leave my body, leaving me with feelings I don’t want or need. I can’t look at her face anymore—I just fucking can’t.

  Grabbing her ankles, I flip her over onto her belly and pull her pants and underwear down in one go. Her cries are muffled by the pillow, but I can still tell her crying is getting worse. She starts to sob, her body shaking violently.

  I squeeze my lids shut. I can’t take it any longer. Her pain is starting to become my own, and I can’t take it. I just fucking can’t.

  I lean over, tilting her head a little so I can see part of her face again. Brushing some tear-soaked hair from her cheek, I lean closer and whisper right into her ear.

  “If you listen to me and be very still, I won’t hurt you…and I won't take your virginity.”

  Her sobs almost stop immediately. Only small tremors she can't control remain. I stand up and look at her perfect body. Her skin is just as delicate and beautiful as I imagined it would be.

  Creamy, white, unmarred. She’s a specimen I want to explore over and over again. Her ass is plump, and each cheek jiggles as her body continues to shake.

  “I’m going to touch you, but I won’t hurt you.” Starting at her ankle, I trail my fingers up her legs—all the way to the two perfect globes of her ass. The feeling of her warm skin on mine...there is no way to fucking describe it. God, she is beautiful, and pure, and fuck…I don’t deserve her—not at all.

  “I want to taste you, Keira. Can I taste you?” I wait patiently—as fucking patiently as I can for her to answer. Time seems to stand still, and when a breathless, “Yes,” escapes her lips, I nearly come undone. Every muscle in my body, inside and out, tightens.

  If I’m going to make her come, then it’s going to be when I can see her fucking face. I want to see the pleasure in her eyes, the way she reacts to my touch. I retrieve a key for the handcuffs and undo them with ease, then I flip her over onto her back. When I see her face, I almost punch myself.

  She looks sad, angry, and tired...and I never want to see her look like this again. I need to take care of her. I don’t know why or how I’m going to do it, but I have to.

  I crawl onto the bed slowly, all the anger seeping out of me, leaving me with nothing but the need to pleasure her—to make her feel the same insane need she makes me feel every single hour. Her eyes never leave mine, not even as I pull her to the edge of the bed. With my knee, I open her legs, and the sight of her pink pussy makes my mouth fill with saliva.

  My eyes dart back up to hers, and I catch her watching me curiously, gazing at me, inspecting my every move.

  I dip down between her legs and press a kiss to the top of her mound. Her legs widen, and a shiver rolls through her, and I love it. I fucking love that this is how she reacts to my touch. Most of the time, I’m not the giving type, but with Keira, I want to be all that and more…so much more.

  With two fingers, I spread her silky, smooth folds, revealing her tight little nub. My gaze trails down to her pussy, and I know I’ll have to wait to claim that, but the need is definitely there, deep in my belly.

  Exhaling, I lean forward and blow against the tender flesh. She shudders for the first time today with pleasure instead of fear, and I smile.

  Without warning, I start licking her, flicking my tongue gently against her most sensitive part. A quiet moan rips from her throat, encouraging me to lick faster and harder. I look up at her, over her perfect pussy, to gage her facial features. Her eyes are closed now, but I want her to open them and look at me. I want to see the pleasure in her eyes.

  I close my lips around her tight little bundle of nerves and start to suck lightly. Her body starts to respond to me. Her hips move probably without her even realizing it. Her body wants me, and just knowing that drives me insane.

  Her lids finally flutter open, and I catch her looking down at me through hooded eyes. Her face is still red and puffy from crying, and she is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I suck on her clit a little harder this time and her eyes close again. Her head falls back onto the pillow, her moans growing louder and louder with every lick.

  Her hands fist the sheets, and I know she’s getting close. I keep working her clit wit
h my tongue, watching her body move beneath me, begging for more without any words.

  I lift one of her legs and rest it against my shoulder, opening her up wider—like she is a present I can’t wait to unwrap. Her back arches off the bed.

  “Damon…” she cries out, my name falling from her lips.

  I need to hear her say it again. I might fucking die if I don’t.

  Her pussy quivers, and the taste of her sweet cream explodes against my tongue as she comes apart beneath me. I keep stroking her gently—up and down, up and down—tasting her over and over again, until I know every last tremor of her orgasm has moved through her body.

  Gliding up her tiny form, I watch her eyes follow my every move. Indescribable desires pool deep inside me, and I have to see the rest of her naked. I grab the hem of her shirt and start to peel it off her body. She doesn’t try to stop me, and instead, lifts her arms to help without me having to ask. Very slowly, I pull the shirt over her head, then unhook her bra and remove it, revealing two perfect tits with dusky pink nipples just begging to be sucked. Her tits are the perfect size, one handful each.

  I lean down to take one of those perky tits into my mouth, but Keira stops me by tugging on my shirt, silently urging me to take it off. I sit up just long enough to pull it over my head, before tossing it to the ground behind me.

  Then I’m back on top of her, taking that soft pink nipple into my mouth, making her moan again. I feel my cock growing harder and harder with each flick of my tongue against her pebbled nipple.

  She’s mine, all fucking mine. Her sweet strawberry scent urges me onward, and I want to take her—fuck do I want to take her—but she’s not ready for that yet. When I do get to feel her warmth wrapped around my dick, it’s going to be because she wants it, because she begs for it.

  Another soft moan escapes her mouth, and I want to bottle up those moans and keep them with me all the time. They are the sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. She moves underneath me, rubbing her leg against my dick, and damn is he begging for attention.

  “I want to feel you,” I croak against her nipple, releasing it with a loud pop. I watch her chest rise and fall, her creamy white skin turning a soft pink right before my eyes.

  “Okay.” Keira nods, and I reach down, fisting my cock in my hand. It’s heavy with need, and I wonder if she’ll be able to take all of me when the time comes. She’s so small, and I’m fucking huge—the two things just don’t go together.

  Her beautiful eyes go wide with fear for a moment, and I realize I need to clarify what I want and what I’m going to do.

  “Don’t be afraid. I’m going to bring my cock to your entrance, but I won’t go in. I just want to feel you. Feel your slit, feel your pussy quiver against my cock.”

  “Okay,” she repeats “But please don’t go inside.”

  Her voice is so fucking soft, sweet and trusting, it hurts. I don’t understand how she can still trust anything I say after what I’ve put her through the last two days.

  I can’t fuck this up. I can’t lose control right now. Still fisting my dick, I bring myself right to her entrance. Her sweet pussy is still wet and so fucking soft, I want to plunge right inside her and never leave, claim her for myself—but I don’t.

  Instead, I let my cock move upward, sliding between her wet folds and over her clit. She exhales a ragged breath as I thrust forward between her folds, my cock maintaining friction against her clit.

  Her still overly sensitive flesh glistens against the head of my cock. And its the most amazing feeling I have ever felt in my entire life, sliding through her silky wet folds. It’s better than any sex I’ve ever had. Better than any killing I’ve ever done. I know I could come right now if I wanted to, but I need to savor this moment…draw it out as long as I can. Maybe even make her come again. I loosen the grip on my dick a little.

  “You going to come again on my cock?”

  “Yes...I think so…” Her breath hitches in her chest.

  “Fuck yes you are…” I clench my jaw and move a little faster, feeling the tightening in my balls. Kiera’s fingers splay against the sheets, as if she’s reaching for something…needing something more.

  I keep my rhythm the same and trail my fingers up her body, taking her puckered nipple between two fingers. I roll the nipple back and forth, watching as her eyes close, her hips lift, and her body shakes with an impending orgasm. There’s nothing like the little gasps escaping her lips as she falls apart for me.

  Goosebumps prickle across her skin, and I lean forward, my body looming above hers. My lips find hers, and I up my pace, my cock begging and pleading to be inside her.

  Not yet, big boy.

  I pull back and fist my cock in my hand, pumping the fuck out of him, feeling the burning pleasure rip through me. Seconds later, I fall apart, my feet digging into the mattress and my heartbeat pulsing in my ears. I look down, watching as my release coats her virgin pussy, ropes of my sticky cum claiming her body as mine—only mine.

  Another man will never have her, never touch her or taste her like I did tonight. If anybody tries, I’ll slit their fucking throat.

  My orgasm rocks me to the core. It’s so fucking intense, it takes me a minute to gather my thoughts and get up.

  “Don’t move,” I tell her softly, almost smiling. She doesn't look like she could move a fucking inch right now even if she tried. Moving away from the bed, even though I don’t want to, I go into the bathroom and get a warm washcloth.

  I reappear a few moments later and spread her legs, cleaning her perfect pussy that I made so fucking messy. Tossing the washcloth to the floor behind me, I crawl into the bed with her and pull her naked body into my chest, relishing in the way she shudders against me.

  “You’re mine, Keira. Mine. I don’t care what you or anyone else thinks. After what happened between us tonight, I can’t just let you go. I can’t.” My admission shocks the hell out of me as well as Keira, from the shocked expression she gives me.

  She shifts slightly to look up at me. “Do you really mean that? Like…really mean it? Because seeing you with that stripper today…it hurt me.”

  Her creamy white cheeks heat. She seems embarrassed, and I don’t understand why.

  “I’m confused about how I feel. I don’t want to like you, but I do. Or at least I like you when we’re alone together...like this.”

  “I can’t always be this person. People rely on me. I have to show a certain amount of hardness. I have to be a prick because I need people to be scared of me, and I have to do things you may not always like. At the end of the day, I'm still a criminal, baby.”

  And I don’t know how to do this...any of it. Relationships are not for me, but I can’t just have Keira as a fuck buddy.

  “So, you’re saying you are not really a prick? You just pretend to be one?” She gives me a smile, full of teeth and pure happiness.

  “No, I’m definitely a prick, and I’ll always be one.” I pause for a moment, gathering my thoughts.

  “What I’m saying is I don’t have to be a prick with you…when we are alone. Other than that, I can’t promise anything. I can work on my emotions, on how I treat you in the presence of others, but I can’t promise you anything. I’m not a good man, Keira. I’m not, and I won’t pretend to be, not even for you.”

  Keira doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, and I wonder if she fell asleep. Then she sighs, and asks, “Will you see her again?”

  I blink. “Will I see who again?” I whisper into her hair, inhaling her scent. Our scents have mixed together. I can’t tell where she ends, and I start.

  “Her. The stripper.”

  I contemplate my response. I’m a man, and I have needs, but Keira may be the one to curb those needs.

  I imagine how she felt seeing me with Hayley. I really didn’t think about it before. Putting myself in her shoes...I can’t imagine how I would have felt if I would have caught Keira with another guy. The mere thought leaves me furious. I would have cut his hear
t out of his chest before he even had a chance to pull up his pants.

  “Not if you don’t want me to…” I tiptoe around my response. I don’t want to hurt Keira—not anymore. “I want you, and I’d rather it be you, but…” I trail off, unsure of what to say. I can’t image touching another woman now, not after touching her.

  “I want to give myself to you. I’m just scared. Could we kind of work up to it? I told you I’d give you something in return for your promise to protect me.

  I shake my head, holding her tightly against my chest. “No, Keira. I want you because you want me. Not because you want my protection. I’ll protect you either way, because no one is touching you. No one. But if you want to give yourself to me, if you want me to fuck you because you want it, then I will—when you’re ready.”

  The words don’t even sound like something I would say, but then again, I’m not the same man I was an hour ago. Keira has cracked something inside me—she’s opened up my heart. Now I understand what Hero was saying about Elyse. I can’t imagine someone telling me I couldn’t have Keira.

  “So, we’re okay?” Keira whispers, her voice sounding sleepy, and I realize how late it must be.

  “More than okay, baby. More than okay.” I kiss her softly, my lips melting against hers. I’m pretty sure I’ll want her this way forever—which scares the hell out of me. In my world, love is a weakness—and weaknesses aren’t something I can afford.

  Chapter 9

  Keira

  For the first time in days, I wake refreshed. My body feels relaxed instead of tense. I sink into the soft mattress, my eyes opening lazily. Then I realize I’m not in my bed, but Damon’s. His heavy arm is wrapped around my midsection, protecting me like a thick, steel band, holding me to him.

  I’ll never admit it aloud, at least not right now, but feeling this close to Damon, feeling his possessiveness, sparks something inside me. Something I don’t really understand. It’s a foreign emotion, but one I want to feel again and again. I let my mind wander to the things he said to me last night. Damon wants to be kind to me—and above all he can be—which tells me he’s not really the twisted asshole he makes himself out to be.