Devil You Know: A Dark Mafia Enemies to Lovers Romance (The Diavolo Crime Family Book 2)

by J. L. Beck

  I lean in and wet my lips, my tongue touching her mouth. Then I say, “Tell me, and I’ll be forgiving. This time.”

  Her lips follow mine as I slowly pull away. She wants me more than she’s willing to let me see, and I can work with that. But I won’t always. Soon she’s going to be taking my cock daily and with fucking gratitude.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” I add. “I’ll get started here, and you have until I come to say those words, and I’ll still be generous and give you an orgasm. If you don’t, well, I’ll finish, clean you up, and tie you to the bed again until you learn how to overcome that damn pride of yours.”

  She doesn’t answer me, and that’s fine. I’ll have her begging soon enough. It’s the future I’m worried about. I plan to keep her, and if she can’t tell me what she wants, how is she ever going to get it? Especially when she hides her needs behind her ego.

  I reach between us and part her nether lips, so I can slide my length along the slickness already gathered there. Fuck, she’s already hot and wet. The memories from earlier this morning charge back in my mind, threatening my control.

  She hisses against my mouth, and I catch it in a kiss. The taste of eggs and something all around her teases me. Her fingers thread up around my neck, and I let her lead for a heartbeat, just to see how far she’ll go. When she thrusts her tongue between my lips, I arch upward again, so the head of my cock runs across her slippery clit. She’s so damn wet already. And it’s all for me. All mine.

  The whimper she lets out earns her lips a gentle nip with my teeth. “You like that. Want me to do it again?”

  She nods, her forehead brushing mine with each assent. Because she’s actually telling me, I shift my hips and glide along her clit once more. It’s not as good as being inside her, but it still drives me closer to my orgasm.

  Leaving a lingering kiss on her lips, and bracing myself off her body, I resettle with my mouth at the apex of her thighs.

  My fingers sink into her thighs and I drag her to my mouth. Burying my face in her pussy, I inhale, letting her scent fill my lungs. Mine, all fucking mine. The words echo inside my mind. Parting her folds, I find her tiny clit and lick the nub until her legs are shaking, and she’s panting.

  Then I focus on her opening, dipping my tongue in and out, fucking her with it, delving into her sweet honey while she tries to rock forward and fuck my face.

  “You taste so sweet,” I murmur between strokes of my tongue.

  She protests my pause and continues to grind against my mouth. I let out a chuckle and wrap my arms around her upper thighs to hold her down while I spear her with my tongue, fucking her little hole until I’m so hard I can’t wait any longer. She’s more than ready for me as her arousal glistens on her thighs.

  She lets out another whimper when I pull away and reposition myself so I’m kneeling between her legs. Our gazes collide, fire and ice become one, clashing together. I bring two fingers to her entrance and press deep inside her channel, all the way to my knuckles. Warm and so fucking tight. I’m aching to get inside her. Every inch of my cock is primed to fucking claim her and make her mine in every way.

  The idea of being the first man here, the only man here, lights up something primal in my chest. It makes me want to growl and grunt with satisfaction. She’s fucking mine, and this is proof even to her, even in the moments when she wants to deny me.

  Slowly, I stroke her from the inside out, enjoying the way her eyes light up with every pump of my fingers. My queen likes her pleasure with a splash of pain, but tonight will be different. I pump into her a few more times for safe measure and stretch her tightness to prepare her for my girth. As much as I want to sink into her and fuck her straight through the mattress, I know I need to go slow to make certain she enjoys it. That we both do.

  “Are you ready?” I shift forward and glide my cock through her wetness, circling her clit with the head before delving back down to prod gently at her opening. She doesn’t pull away, and instead arches her hips, trying to take me before I’m ready.

  “I want you.” She frowns when I deny her.

  It earns her a swat on her hip with my free hand. “Patience, stellina. I’ll give you what you want when I’m ready.”

  Her frustrated huff makes me smile as I climb back up and brace the weight of my body on my forearms.

  “Are you ready now?” she asks, her voice full of sweet venom.

  I surprise her when I nip her lip before she even realizes it’s happening. “Greedy brat, big words from someone who still hasn’t told me she wants me to make her come.”

  “You’re an asshole.”

  I slide along her slickness once again, groaning into her neck, and she throws her head back, offering herself to me.

  Gently, I nibble a line from her chin to her collarbone. “An asshole you want inside you more than you want anything else right now. Be nice, or I won’t let you have my cock.”

  When she flexes her fingers around my biceps in frustration, I decide to show her some mercy. I lean my weight on one arm and reach between us to guide my cock to her entrance. Pressing between her thighs, the heat of her body engulfs me.

  With my lips against her forehead, I thrust my hips forward, gently. A fucking feat, since all I can think about is slamming home and taking her hard.

  The head of my cock slips inside her tight hole, and sheer bliss blankets every inch of my body. I grapple for control, and it takes every shred I have left to stop myself from thrusting all the way inside.

  Celia’s whimper fills my ears, and that sound alone grounds me. Carefully, inch by inch, I feed my cock inside her. Every time her fingernails dig into my skin, I pause and let her grow used to the pressure, the stretch she’s surely experiencing. After what feels like an eternity and several tests of my control, I become fully seated inside her, our bodies nestled together completely.

  “Are you okay?” I grit out. Determined not to fucking spill my load after two minutes inside her. She’s so fucking tight, and I’ve never felt such perfection in my life.

  She nods, her jaw tight. “I’m fine, don’t stop.”

  Not the endorsement I want, but I know with some movement, things will ease, and pleasure will replace the pain.

  I tuck my hand between our bodies again and nudge her clit with my fingers. She sucks a heavy breath into her lungs, and I know that’s what she needs.

  “There we go. Relax for me, let me do the work,” I whisper.

  Miraculously, she listens to me and relaxes her hips into the bed. It changes the angle of things, and soon enough, she’s arching her hips up to meet mine with every steady thrust.

  Her tight cunt is like a vice I want to get lost in.

  “Remember what I said. You won’t come unless you tell me.”

  Her eyes are squeezed closed, and her movements grow frantic. “I fucking hate you.”

  “No, you don’t. You just wish you did,” I tell her, dragging my teeth down her neck. “Say it,” I order, and pray she does. I’m so close to coming, and despite my threats, I won’t enjoy leaving her suspended on the edge of her orgasm.

  I’d do it to teach her the lesson, but I wouldn’t like it.

  “I’m going to come,” she grits out.

  Instantly, I stop moving and even move my hands to pin her body to the bed, so she can’t use me to reach her end.

  She pops her eyes open to glare at me. “You are a fucking bastard.”

  I smile. “Then we were made for each other. Say it, and I’ll make you come so fucking hard. Harder than you’ve ever come in your life.”

  Her glare could melt ice. But I welcome it, and even more so when she finally says, “I want you to make me come.” My cock pulses deep inside her and I lean into her.

  “Good girl,” I whisper against her mouth.

  Snaking my hand back between our bodies, I find her clit and pinch it hard between my index finger and thumb while I rock into her body, harder and faster than before.

  Seconds is all it t
akes for her to break around me. Her body clenches my cock in its strong, rhythmic grip. I hold myself off, closing my eyes, focusing on her until her hips ease back to the bed. Then I move again, pounding into her harder until my orgasm rears up, and I press in to the hilt, letting the warm sheath of her body hold me as the pleasure rolls through me in waves.

  I might have promised to make her come harder than she ever has in her life, but I just did, too. It takes me a moment to blink through a haze of disorientation and carefully pull from her body’s embrace.

  She winces as I do so, and I catch sight of the red sheen along my still semi-hard dick.

  “Stay there. I’ll be right back.” I grab a washcloth from the bathroom, wet it with hot water, and return to press it to her pussy.

  Her sigh of relief stirs something in my chest. Let alone the fact that she stayed exactly where I told her to, legs splayed, waiting for me to care for her. Maybe she is learning to take direction after all.

  Once I clean her gently, I go back to the bathroom and clean myself up.

  When I return to the bed, I scoop her up to the top of the bed and tuck her under the covers. She doesn’t protest as I mold myself around her body and draw her into my embrace. Every inch of her is touching me, and I press a kiss to the curve of her neck as she drifts off to sleep.

  She might fight how much she wants me, but inside, her body already knows it’s my right to care for her. My right to keep her. My right to control her. And soon, she’ll understand exactly what it means to be mine.

  10

  Celia

  I’ve been in this house for a week. One week since he touched me tenderly and then lit my body on fire from the inside out. Even now, thinking about it, I ache for him, and every day, I grow a little less ashamed of myself for it too.

  I lift the neckline of Nicolo’s shirt to my nose, inhaling deeply. It smells like him, like me, like sex. Like I do when I slip my fingers between my legs in the middle of the night and bring myself to orgasm at the memory of his body pressed against mine. Every time he turns those dark, haunted blue eyes on me, I should run in terror, but I’m not.

  When I enter the bedroom after breakfast, a black dress bag is lying on the perfectly made bed. The maid already cleaned in here, so Nic must have left it out for me. I cross the room and stare down at the gleaming zipper.

  I unzip the bag and fold back the edges. A red dress lays inside. Not like the one he gave me when he held me captive, but a deeper red, more maroon or wine-colored. I lift the hanger out and hold it up to the light. It has got a subtle shimmer to the fabric. The A-line cut will look good on me.

  Sarah bustles in the door I left open with a stack of towels for the bathroom. “Pretty dress.”

  Since Nic made it clear I’m staying, the staff has warmed up and even deign to speak full sentences to me now. Although Sarah still acts like she couldn’t care either way who I am, as long as I’m willing to clean up after myself.

  “Thanks. I assume Nic left it for me.”

  “Well, he sure didn’t leave it for me,” she calls from the bathroom.

  A chuckle pops out of me, and I lay it back on the bed. He didn’t leave a note explaining if he wants me to save it for later, so I decide to put it on now. Why not, since it’s appropriate for daytime?

  I strip off the oversized T-shirt and basketball shorts I wore to breakfast and tug the dress on. Of course, the zipper is in the back, and I have to twist my arms to pull it up.

  “Hold on.” Sarah appears in front of me. She wipes her hands on her apron as she steps up behind me and raises the zipper to the back of my neck.

  I’m a little surprised by her actions since I still think she doesn’t like me, though, I’m not sure why exactly.

  “Thank you,” I tell her and watch her walk away without another word.

  I look in the mirror. It’s a beautiful dress. Not as slinky as he usually gives me, and I catch myself swishing the skirt around as I stare in the mirror.

  Fuck. I’m falling into his trap. No doubt this is part of his plan. Make me too comfortable, so comfortable I don’t want to leave, and then he has me forever.

  Every time he listens when I say no. Each tender caress and compliment, all carefully designed to draw me out and push my guard down.

  He carefully designed every step to ensure I forget… I’m his prey.

  Suddenly, the bedroom walls close in on me, and I need to escape.

  I keep the dress on and head out into the hallway. No one is around. Nic is likely in his office, working on whatever it is he does. I head toward the library but almost run into Soo as he comes around the corner, no doubt on his way to see Nic.

  “Nice dress,” he says. “Aren’t you supposed to be staying in the room?”

  I shrug. “I felt trapped in there. I just wanted to go to the library and find a book.”

  He nods and studies me, his gaze scanning me from head to toe. I’m not sure what he’s hunting for, but after a moment, he drags his gaze back to my eyes and nods. “He certainly likes you in red.”

  I noticed that. “What’s not to like?”

  His laugh surprises me. “Indeed. It’s a lovely color, and you do it justice.”

  As always, he toes the line of propriety and familiarity. Never wanting to walk too close to a point Nic might object to.

  After that awkward encounter, I continue to the library, and he heads off toward Nic’s office. No doubt he will tell him I’ve left the room, so I probably only have a few solitary minutes to find a book and go back.

  The hard part is I’m torn between following his orders, embracing the possibilities of what he is offering, and running as far and fast as possible. The conflict is the worst part. Every morning the uncertainty eats at me, gnawing on my gut, waiting for me to make my choice.

  When I enter the library, a light breeze wafts in from the open balcony doors. I cross the room and stare out into the morning light. It smells like rain, a heavy ozone scent hanging in the air. It feels good to be outside, so I step further onto the patio until my toes meet the soft blades of grass.

  I take another step, and then another, and before I can truly think about my actions, I’m racing across the grass, digging my toes into the soft earth. There are acres of lawns around his house, and I don’t see any fence lines or cars in the distance. I’d somehow made the choice, and now I don’t know where I’m going.

  I’m one heavy exhale away from stopping, turning around, and going back when someone takes me down onto the lawn from behind. A tackle, but I land on top of Nic’s chest instead of on the ground. The air is knocked out of me, and I drag in a heavy inhale. It takes a moment to get my bearings, my head spinning from the jostling impact with his hard chest.

  I shove up to straddle him, and his jaw is set, his eyes hard. “Where were you going to go?”

  Instead of lying, I shrug. “I don’t know. It wasn’t really something I thought through that time. I walked outside, and then I kept going.”

  He rolls us over, so I’m trapped under the heavy, solid weight of him. A weight I find more and more comfortable every time we end up in this position.

  I’m bracing for his anger, for his harsh words, but he simply stares down at me. “You can’t leave.”

  “I got that from the running tackle I just took,” I say, trying to soften my tone with a smile on the end.

  He doesn’t give me anything in return but another hard look. “No, really. If you leave, I don’t know what would happen. Not only is it unsafe for you, but I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t have you.”

  I rub my fingers against his temple and meet his eyes, trying to discern what he is saying between the threats. I’m learning he gravitates to threats and violence when things get emotional for him. “You think someone will try to take me?”

  He nods. “Besides your family, I know of one other person who would love to get his hands on you. And those don’t include my enemies, who would be overjoyed to learn of your existence in
my life. A weakness.”

  I don’t like the way he says that. “A weakness?”

  Something shifts in his gaze. And suddenly, I’m not staring at the man but the predator. His hips are pressed into mine, and he’s rocking into me gently, the dress bunched up around my hips.

  “If you leave, I can’t guarantee the safety of anyone. Not your family, not Lucas, none of them,” he growls out, his mouth only a few inches from mine.

  And we are back to threats. We made it a week of semi-normalcy, and now he reverts to his baser instincts to ensure I stay with him. No matter how many times I tell him holding me captive does not make me his girlfriend.

  His fingers curl around my neck gently, not squeezing but claiming, owning. “You belong to me.”

  “So, you keep saying,” I whisper, dropping my hands from where they were massaging his head. If he’s going to start with this shit, then I’m not going to touch him voluntarily.

  The wetness from the grass is seeping into the back of the dress, and I hope it’s not stained. But knowing him, by the time he’s finished asserting his claim again, it will be.

  “What do you want from me, Nic? I was about to turn around and go back inside. I’m not leaving. Hell, I don’t even have any shoes on. Where do you think I’d go?”

  He tracks his eyes over my face, hunting the lie in my words. But there isn’t one to find this time. But no doubt he can hear the disappointment, the exhaustion of our situation, and this damn hamster wheel we keep spinning on.

  “So, were all the pretty words and fancy clothes a lie? A way for you to assert your control over me?”

  A line appears on his forehead, and he releases my neck. “No.”

  “And you being gentle with me. Making me come every time we are intimate. Every pretty line you feed me while you’re inside me, were all those lies?”

  He blinks heavily and rears up like he doesn’t enjoy the way this conversation is going. Good. That makes two of us.