Bound By Vengeance (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles Book 5)

by Cora Reilly

  Cara

  I didn’t stop running until I’d closed the door to my room behind me. What had I done? What had I let Growl do? God. My heart was pulsating wildly in my chest. I could feel the thud, thud even between my legs. I covered my eyes with my hand and took a deep shuddering breath. I’d never felt this unhinged before. But being driven by instincts, my mind had been blissfully silent.

  I’d wanted to feel his fingers so desperately, even through the fabric the touch had ignited me. Why did my body do that to me? She hated Growl and yet my body responded to him. He wasn’t poster boy pretty. He was edgy and dark and scarred.

  And my body wanted him because of it.

  I shuddered, dropped my hand and staggered to my bed where I let myself fall. Being near Growl felt like falling, too.

  Part of me wanted to return to the yard and let Growl finish what he’d started. I could regret my actions later, could perhaps even convince myself to blame Growl for everything. Perhaps this was some kind of Stockholm syndrome?

  Did that work for sexual attraction as well? I gasped out a laugh. I was losing my mind.

  The throbbing between my legs still hadn’t stopped. If possible, it had gotten even worse. I put my hand on my lower belly, then stopped. This wasn’t right. Even just fantasizing about someone like Growl was wrong, and touching myself while doing it? Surely sin.

  My mother would never forgive me.

  I curled my hand into a fist on my stomach. I’d be strong. I wouldn’t let my body dictate my actions. I was better than that.

  The next two mornings I didn’t want to face Growl and waited until I heard him leave the house before I walked out of my room. I couldn’t hide forever but my embarrassment was still too fresh. At least, he didn’t seek out my company.

  As usual I first checked every door and window to find them locked. The dogs lay in their beds, wagging their tails halfheartedly as I passed them. I considered patting them, but I didn’t dare without Growl close by. Which was kind of amusing, considering that not too long ago I’d considered him the most dangerous thing in my life. And he probably still was. I headed to my usual spot on the sofa and startled at the sight of six books neatly stacked on top of the living room table. I didn’t know any of the authors but it was a mix of romances and thrillers. I lowered myself to the sofa, stunned by Growl’s consideration. I was more confused than ever. Why was he treating me with respect? I picked up the book at the top and began reading, trying to immerse myself in another world and silence my thoughts.

  When he returned in the evening, he brought pizza again and put it down on the living room table next to my new books. My face burnt with shame when his gaze finally settled on me. He looked completely unaffected however by my obvious embarrassment over our last encounter. “Thanks for the books,” I said.

  He nodded and settled on the sofa. He opened the pizza carton and grabbed a piece. The spicy scent wafted over to me and reminded me that I hadn’t eaten since the morning. Growl had stocked the kitchen with a few more essentials since I’d moved in.

  “Have you found out more about my sister?” I asked.

  A few times I caught myself staring at his long fingers and remembering how it had felt to have them on my body.

  I needed to stop this madness. Focus on something else, I told myself, and finally I settled for his scar. My eyes traced the angry red line around his throat. It was jagged as if they had used a saw-toothed knife. How could someone survive something like that? It seemed impossible. I couldn’t imagine how it must have felt to have the blood drain out of you. I shivered. There were so many rumors about how it had happened, and even more about how he’d survived. I suspected that many of them were the foundation on which Growl’s notorious reputation had been founded. Why was he alive? A wound like that, a cut throat, almost always meant death. Why had someone like him, someone who didn’t deserve to live, survived, while others died from less? It seemed unfair and cruel. Maybe it was stupid of me to expect life to be fair, to give everyone what they deserved.

  I tore my gaze away, afraid he’d notice it and get angry. But he was probably used to the staring by now. Wherever he went people watched in awe and fear. I doubted he enjoyed the attention, so different from his boss. I’d seen the pride and delight on Falcone’s face whenever people shied away from his most feared assassin.

  “Eat,” Growl rasped.

  I jumped and again my eyes found his throat. This was my chance to get answers, to find out if there was a sliver of truth to the rumors my friends and I had whispered to each other in hushed voices. My chance to figure out the man in front of me, and how to influence him. Yet I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find out more about him. People fear what they don’t know, that was a quote I knew to be true but I had a feeling that not knowing was a blessing when it came to the man in front of me. With every layer that I peeled off more horrors would be exposed.

  “Ask or stop looking,” he said. He didn’t sound angry.

  I glared. I wanted to ask and at the same time didn’t. Not when he had almost ordered me to, but then my curiosity won. “What happened to you?”

  Growl pushed another piece of pizza into his mouth and chewed slowly. He swallowed, then looked at me. “Someone wanted me dead, cut my throat,” he replied, eyes blank. “But I survived.”

  I stared. That wasn’t an answer, at least not one that allowed me to find out more about Growl. It was generic and emotionless, but it showed me something. That I’d found a topic Growl was uncomfortable with.

  He nodded toward my untouched pizza. “Either you eat or I’ll feed it to the dogs.”

  I was too hungry to give the pizza to the dogs out of spite and so I started eating.

  Afterward, Growl went outside again to work out, and I decided to hide in my room. I didn’t want to risk something like last time. But I couldn’t restrain myself very long and peeked out of the window into the yard. Growl was covered in sweat as he pushed two massive dumb-bells over his head, face scrunched up with strain.

  I let out a breath and quickly slipped into bed. If I watched him a moment longer, I’d only want to touch myself again.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Growl

  Growl knew she’d been watching him from her room. He’d seen her in the window. This was eating away at his control. He couldn’t think about anything but her body anymore.

  Growl returned into the house after an hour-long intense workout, but he still didn’t feel like this had calmed him down. He went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to wipe his sweat off.

  A sound caught his attention. He walked closer to Cara’s room. The noise was coming from inside. It sounded like she was moaning.

  Growl lowered the towel slowly, his groin tightening. He moved closer and put his ear to the door. Again, a moan, low and drawn out. Growl closed his eyes. She was touching herself because of him. He had no doubt about it.

  Fuck. He could feel himself hardening at the mere idea of what was going on behind that closed door.

  Why was he even still standing here? He grabbed the door handle and pushed the door open. He made sure to be as quiet as possible. He didn’t want her to notice him at once. He peered inside, and couldn’t believe his eyes. She wasn’t even awake. Her eyes were closed and her breathing too low. He stepped inside as he watched one of her hands move between her legs.

  Her lips were slightly parted and another moan slipped out. Growl dropped the towel and approached the bed. Fuck, he wasn’t a good man, and she was making this damn hard for him. He could practically smell her arousal, or his mind was already starting to trick him.

  Growl perched on the bed, careful not to wake her. But he needn’t have worried. She was lost in her dream. She writhed, then parted her legs under the blanket. Growl stifled a groan at the sight. He took the edge of the blanket and slowly pulled it down to her knees. She was wearing a nightgown that had ridden up to her hips, laying her pussy bare to him. He drew in a deep breath as he watched one of her slender
fingers slide over her lower lips slowly. It was the first time he saw her pussy. She wasn’t clean shaven like the whore he’d had in the past. She trimmed herself, but soft brown hair covered her mount. His cock was so hard, Growl was surprised he hadn’t exploded yet. Perhaps this would be the first time Growl would come in his pants. She mewled again, needy, but her own touch didn’t seem to get her further. Growl could tell that her touch wasn’t practiced. Damn it. He was tired of resisting when it was so obvious that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  He leaned over her, letting her heady scent flood his nose. He took a long lick over her swollen lips, and her taste was so sweet, it drove him crazy. She shuddered and moaned loudly. Growl couldn’t take anymore. He pushed her hand away and slipped his tongue between her lips. He licked her tight hole and slowly traveled up to the small nub at the top. She moaned and then tensed. She was awake, but Growl was determined not to let her mind get the better of her. He drew her clit into his mouth, and sucked in a gentle rhythm.

  She inhaled sharply. The tension in her body remained but she didn’t push him away or say anything. She was conflicted he could tell. Growl used all his skills to convince her. He let her clit slowly slide out of his lips and started drawing soft circles before he licked his way back down to her tight channel again.

  “We can’t do this,” she said shakily, but there was hardly any conviction in her voice, and that was all he needed. He licked her harder, dipped his tongue into her, then suckled her clit again. She cried out, and like that she came already, flooding his mouth with her sweetness. He didn’t stop. This had only been the first battle. He kept licking, then fucked her with his tongue again. He didn’t give her time to recover. He slipped a finger into her. She was so wet, he was met with barely any resistance.

  His cock was almost raw from rubbing against his pants, but he needed more time for her. He needed to prepare her for what was to come. This time there was no stopping.

  Cara

  I could hardly breathe. My body was burning up, my pulse speeding. Everything felt so incredibly intense. Growl was practically buried in my lap, licking and kissing and sucking. I was so close to my second orgasm. His hand snaked under my nightgown and up to my breast. His fingers closed around my nipple and twisted, and like that another wave crashed over me, even harder than before. What was happening? I couldn’t grasp a clear thought.

  I hardly noticed him getting out of his clothes and only realized what was going to happen when he crouched over me. I wasn’t ready for this, would never be. I needed to stop him, needed to end this before everything was too late.

  He climbed between my legs, parting them. His eyes held mine. I couldn’t move, couldn’t say or do anything. I’d feared this moment when Falcone had gifted me to Growl and now it was happening, but so different from how I’d imagined it.

  And then he started pushing into me, and I clung to him tightly, my fingers gouging the inked skin of his upper arms. He was tearing me apart. He didn’t slow, didn’t stop. But he watched my face. Laid me bare with his gaze in so many ways. Wasn’t it enough that I was lying naked beneath him? Did he have to strip away the wards over my soul, did he have to make me feel even more vulnerable than I already had? I gasped. It hurt. In so many ways. Was this how losing yourself felt?

  My body yielded, and yet I was tearing apart. Not physically, even though I wished my inner tumult would manifest in a physical way. Pain wasn’t enough. Not this pain, not when it mingled with hints of pleasure. I wanted to lower my eyelids, wanted to black out the world around and the man above me but I kept my eyes open, kept looking up into that striking face of my captor, my owner, and now lover. Hatred should have been at the forefront of my mind, but it wasn’t. It was still there, still strong, but it was battling with other emotions. Emotions I didn’t want to feel. Compassion and understanding. Gratefulness for his almost kindness and even hints of pity.

  With every thrust, Growl seemed to rip a piece of me away. I wasn’t just losing my innocence, I seemed to be losing parts of me, of what had made me me.

  Then stop him. Do it, as long as there’s still something left of you. My nails buried deeper into Growl’s arms and he grunted, eyes flashing with pleasure. He was enjoying it. And in turn my own body hummed with delight. He never slowed, never took his eyes off me. His muscled chest glistened with sweat. Pain gave way to something warmer, something that thrilled through my body more than any sting could. I drew my fingers up to Growl’s shoulders, scratching, leaving a red path in my way, and relishing in it, and in the droplets of blood that dotted the spot where I’d clung to him.

  Growl began shaking and let out a groan before he dropped to the mattress beside me.

  Red half-moon shaped marks littered his arms, proof of what had happened. Not proof of a struggle, of resistance, of a fight. Not proof of what should have been. I couldn’t draw consolation from those marks. They weren’t signs of my unwillingness, of a brave struggle against Growl’s taking of me. No, I’d let him conquer me, had relished it even. What was wrong with me? How could I have let it happen?

  I could only imagine what Trish and Anastasia would say if they saw me now. They’d be shocked and disgusted, and they would talk about it for days. But they didn’t matter, not anymore.

  But Mother and Talia did. And they would judge me just as well if they knew. How could they not? How could anyone not condemn me for what I’d allowed Growl to do?

  ‘Was this how losing myself feels?’. That question still ghosted around my brain, but now another question had been added to the mix, a question that scared me even more. ‘How could you lose yourself if you never had the chance to find yourself?’. I pushed the thought away, banished the myriad of thoughts crowding brain. I couldn’t take them anymore. Growl lay panting next to me. His face looked relaxed, blank, more so than ever before, as if through the carnal act of sex he’d managed to free himself, managed to banish whatever demons haunted him.

  This wouldn’t be the last time. And I wasn’t horrified by the idea. Despite the soreness, and even pain that throbbed between my legs, I wanted it again. I allowed myself that moment of realization. The damage was done. I had nothing more to lose.

  Growl sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. I jerked into a sitting position as well. Was he already leaving after what we’d just done?

  Growl peered at me over his shoulder, and now his gaze on my naked skin didn’t make my body hum with delight and triumph. I drew the blankets up over my chest, clinging to the crisp fabric like I’d clung to Growl’s strong arms mere minutes before. I didn’t voice my questions, didn’t want to sound desperate and needy, especially when he was the last person I should need. For a moment we both seemed to be frozen but then I averted my eyes under the power of my own shame and Growl rose to his feet. From the corner of my eye, I watched him gather his clothes from the ground but he didn’t bother getting dressed. Instead he walked out and began to close the door but stopped. “There’s something for the pain in the bathroom.” He paused and I waited for him to say something else but then he just closed the door. I waited for his steps to fade away before I freed myself of the blankets and quickly slid out of bed. I couldn’t bear being in it now. It was clammy with our sweat, and it smelled of sex. I stared down at the white of the sheets. At the sight of the small pink spot I let out a shaky breath. Betrayal came in so many shapes and forms. Sometimes it was a purposeful act, and sometimes it was something you let happen.

  Growl

  He took several long swigs of cold water. Even now his body seemed to boil with lust. His orgasm hadn’t diminished his desire for Cara one bit. Not because the sex hadn’t been satisfying, though that was true too. He’d had stronger orgasms, had had better sex, but whatever had happened between him and Cara had been the most intense thing he’d ever experienced. It didn’t even make sense.

  She wasn’t someone that could sate his hunger, and she wasn’t someone he’d have usually chosen to still his desire,
and yet right in this fucking second he couldn’t imagine being with any other woman. He wanted Cara, wanted to see if he could draw her out of her shell, make her more forward and demanding. He wanted to release her hunger. She tried to hide it but tonight he’d caught glimpses of it and he wanted more.

  Before Cara, he’d been satisfied with what he had, with the cards he’d been dealt, but she made him want more and that wasn’t exactly safe in his world.

  What was she doing to him?

  Cara’s door opened and closed. Quietly. She didn’t want him to hear as so often when she crept through the house. But if his life had taught him anything, it was vigilance. There wasn’t a sound that got past his hearing. Her steps were careful and then they stopped and another door opened and closed. Growl took another gulp of water and was about to put it back into the fridge and go to bed, but then the shower sprang to life. She was taking a shower. He never showered right after sex. He liked the smell of it, and the sticky feeling. He liked being reminded of what he’d done. But women always like things clean, at least women like Cara. The whores he usually dealt with, they showered too, of course, but that was for practical reasons. They couldn’t go walking around stinking of their last john when their next client came along.

  Growl tensed. Another sound disturbed the monotone sloshing of water. Sobbing. He pushed away from the kitchen counter and stalked into the corridor and stopped in front of the bathroom door. The sobbing was a low sound, meant to be drowned out by the shower. It wasn’t meant for him. Cara was crying.

  Growl reached for the door handle, his fingers clutching the cold metal until his bones ached from the pressure. He let go and stepped back. Why was she crying?

  Anger surged through him, burning hotter than his lust. He turned on his heel and stalked away from the sound of her tears and didn’t stop until he was outside on the porch. Both dogs had followed after him and now watched him with curious eyes.