“But now I’m going to fuck you.”
And I felt him reach down with his other hand, below my ass. I felt his belt pull and undo. The pops of his riveted jeans as he pulled open the buttons. The rise of his cock’s slick head as it shoved against my willing, wet wings. He gripped me hard by my ass and his other hand mashed my breast as his mouth roamed, wet and greedy, on mine. My hips shuddered as his cock barely grazed me from my ass to my mound.
I pushed down but he slid away, made me wait. I needed him so badly I was ready to cry. Then my whole body convulsed as he pierced me. His hard rod split me open so wide I gasped and moaned.
I clung hard to his body with my arms and my legs. I raked my hands down his back, squeezed the hard globes of his ass and clawed the skin of his chest and his stomach. Pleading, I peered into the gleam of his hard eyes as my hips rocked along the rail of his cock, driving as deep as I could, my mound kissing his pelvis.
Inside me, boiling floods of sensation rose and brimmed. Luka filled me, and my greedy pussy felt every pulsing ridge of his cock as he hammered it deep inside me, so far up I felt I would break.
“You’re amazing.” He looked right in my eyes and his growl set off a bursting chain of flashes inside me.
My fingers pulled in his hair and I cried his name. “Luka!”
“You’re fucking wonderful, Alexa.”
“Luka!”
“And we’ve made a baby!” His cock got farther up me, deeper inside, and it stretched my walls wider. “I love you.” He pummeled me. My fingers clawed and my toes bunched, my back arced, and my dams all broke in a wild cascade.
“Fuck me, Luka. Fuck me, don’t stop!”
He slammed in harder and faster. I lost control and his cock pulsed, swelled, beat and pumped. I cried out again and he growled my name, “Alexa! God, I love you!” as his seed shot in hot bolts inside me.
Afterwards, and all the way back to the apartment, he held me, kept me close. And that night, he didn’t let me out of his arms for a second.
For the meeting, Carmine chose the club where I’d gone that first time to meet Vassily. When Luka and I arrived, Carmine was at the table with Princess, the girl who’d been so hospitable before. They seemed to know each other, and for some reason, I was comforted by that.
Luka sat beside me. I wanted to hold his hand, but I knew enough to know that wasn’t a good way for me to deal with Carmine. To him, I should present an independent woman. A woman who keeps a man like Luka for the use he can be. A woman who might even marry, but still, practical considerations would come first.
It wasn’t how I felt, but I knew it was how I needed to appear.
Carmine said, “You’re going to have to think about how you’re going to manage things from here on.”
It was hard for me to think about how I wanted to manage anything other than Luka’s body. That, and his coming baby. If the choice was mine to make, I would just side-step the whole issue of “managing things” for Carmine. Hand it all over to Luka.
Carmine had asked me to join him in the elegant seclusion of this sophisticated club, saying, “I want to know what you want. What you want to do next. How you want to go on.” But it was a pretense, obviously. He didn’t want to ask me any of those things. He wanted to make sure that I understood what he wanted. And that I would do it.
In pretending to ask what I wanted, he would tell me what it was that he wanted. While he asked me how I saw things, he would be telling me how he expected me to see them. There was no point in pretending it was anything other than what it was. Carmine wanted me as his captain, his deputy, to get what he wanted. That was all there was to it. I knew that this meeting appeared to be a celebration of my position, a position that I didn’t particularly want. In reality, though, I was here to receive orders.
Carmine had appointed me to take Bruto’s place. Bruto, who had taken Tony’s place. I still had no idea how much Carmine had been involved in that. Had he thought about me taking over from the start? Had he arranged, or simply allowed, Bruto to pitch Tony off a boat so that I would take over from Bruto? Surely not, surely it wasn’t remotely possible. How would he ever have expected me to do it? I couldn’t forget, though, that Carmine had sanctioned Luka as my protector, and Carmine knew about Luka’s history with Bruto. Had this all been Carmine’s plan from the start?
I couldn’t really imagine how he saw me in charge of half of his operation. Perhaps he thought that as a woman, I would be easy for him to control. I doubted it, though. It seemed that whenever Carmine showed me his approval or admiration, it was over something where I had acted independently.
I knew Luka wanted to stay as my protector and right hand. He didn’t want the responsibility for the running of anything, and he didn’t want to answer to Carmine.
And it made no difference, anyway. Carmine had settled on me, and so I would do it. If I didn’t, my only choice would be to run, and I was sure that if I tried to do that, I wouldn’t get very far. These families have eyes and ears everywhere. Once you’re in, there’s only one route out.
Well, two routes. You get out when you die, and you can be as good as out if you’re the top of the tree. To get there, though, the only way is usually when everyone above you has died. “This life,” they call it. They also say, “this thing of ours,” but that’s not really right. It doesn’t belong to them. To us. We belong to it.
Could I keep my baby from belonging to it? I didn’t know, but as long as I had Luka, I knew we were going to be all right.
For now, though, the only certainty I had was that Luka and I would be safe, and we could go back to the apartment and make furious, desperate passion all night long in a bed. And on the couch. On the carpet by the big window.
Inside, indoors, in comfort, and not in a car park or up against a dirty brick wall.
As we left the club, as soon as we were out of sight, he pulled me to him. “Have I told you in the past hour that I love you?”
“Mm, I’m not sure if you have.”
“Well, listen now and listen good.” He wrapped me tight in his big arms. “I love you, Alexa.”
“Luka, this is going to be hard.”
“I noticed you didn’t say anything to Carmine about your condition.”
I searched his face. A part of me couldn’t believe what I had found, what we had found together and yet I somehow couldn’t imagine what life was without him. Not anything I wanted to go back to, that was for certain.
I said, “There wouldn’t be any point telling him. These guys don’t make allowances for each other. There’s no way they’ll make any allowances for a woman.” His big hand was comforting on my shoulder and a surge of strength ran through me as I looked up into his eyes. Would it be enough, though, he and I? “No,” I said, “I’ll handle it. I’ll have to or they’ll deal with me, the way they deal with all problems.”
“They won’t get past me, Alexa.” Hearing, feeling the strength in his voice, I believed him. He kissed me tenderly and said, “You can do it. You can do anything.”
And with him, I believed that I could.
I know that you love reading, maybe
as much as I love crafting and
telling the stories,
so let’s keep in touch
CLICK HERE
to join
Alice’s Readers’ Group
Get news. offers, swag and more!
´
HE’S A MARKSMAN AND A HUNTER
BUT SO IS SHE, SO WHO’S HUNTING WHO?
Hunter: Perfect Revenge
(Excerpt)
here was she getting all that bullshit psychobabble and what the fuck was she doing spilling it out on me?
I held her wrist and watched her eyes burn. He breath was warm and damp, close to my chest. I could have bent her backward. Shown her who was master of this situation, watched those eyes gleam and flash, then well up, peak until they rolled back. I could make her pretty lip tremble and feel her breath shake.
Her jaw set and I realized how hard my grip was on her wrist. Still, I didn’t loosen it. She needed to be taught, I needed to show her something about me. Something that she would remember. I should make her call my name until she begged me. I pulled her closer. Her eyes widened and shone as her chest swelled and her breath caught in her throat.
A scent, a dark, heady perfume burst low in the air between us. Her face was turned up to mine. Her eyes were defiant. But the scent and the heat I felt on the front of her hips, the twitch in her lip and the hardness of her nipples as they pressed through her clothes, all of that told me another story. They told the age-old tale, the story a flower shows the bee, the story that a peach tells to the hummingbird. The story a deer tells the hunter when she’s cornered and shows you her throat.
My tongue traced my lips as I thought of how her lips would taste. The sweetness of her breath gave me the clue. Her head tipped and her lips parted. I touched her bottom lip with my thumb. Brushed roughly from one side to the other. Then I looked in her fluttering eyes and she watched as I tasted the tip of my thumb.
My mouth leaned toward hers. She arched back, but mainly had the effect of pushing her stomach and her pelvis against me. She rose onto her toes and her mound shoved against the ridge of my thigh. I stiffened my thigh and her legs gripped around it.
My face was near to hers. With the very tip of my tongue, I licked her lips. First the bottom then, slowly, the top. The tremble in her stomach and her thighs made me stiffen. My hand made its way around her waist and felt the warm strength of her as I reached back. She had back muscles like a skier. With the tips of my fingers I relished the tense arc in her spine and slid down to hold her ass. The firm roundness rolled in my grip. She sighed as I pulled her to me.
My voice was just a hot breath on her throat and her cheek. “I could open you.” I watched her. “Spread you wide.” Her eyes flashed. “Take you up and fly you like a paraglider. Buffet you and spin you around until you peak and crash, soaring, plunging and moaning.”
“You mix your metaphors, mountain man,” her voice was distant and I could tell she was working to keep it steady. Her thighs were fastened on mine and her mound scraped high on my leg. The heat of her zinging pulses made my cock lengthen and twitch. I wanted to beat her with it. Inside and out.
My fingers traced the line of her throat. Slipped up the side of her neck and around her ear. I slid my fingers into her hair. Threading around and into the thick flow of her soft mane. I had all of her hair between my fingers. I had only to close my hand and I would have her at my mercy. She felt it, too. I watched her eyes. She moistened her lips and they parted again.
My other hand swept around her ass, squeezing and holding at the top of her thigh as it stroked around to the front of her pants. Then I pulled her face to mine.
My voice was a scraping rasp. “Want to mix something up with those metaphors?”
I held her so her lips were in trembling distance of mine. I tasted her breath. As her face lunged towards mine I held her back.
“Say please.”
Her temperature rose at that and she squirmed in my arms.
“Ah,” I grinned. “Doesn’t mind being held, but isn’t ready to admit it.”
Her eyes flashed hot and her lips curled back.
“Something unresolved with your Daddy, maybe?” her teeth snapped at me and I could see she was as surprised as I was. “Buried deep. There’s a ancient stream running through there.” I popped the button on her pants. Her mouth lunged at me again. And I held her back when her lips were just a hair away from mine. I could taste her. And I knew that from there she could taste me.
“Apple of Daddy’s eye? Daddy’s little girl,” the corner of her eye creased with amusement, like a triumph. “No,” I whispered, “Daddy’s big girl. Not the princess, but Daddy’s queen.” I couldn’t hold her back now. I couldn’t help but laugh when her whole body surged at me like a tsunami.
As I leaned backward and she charged up to my face, while she fixed her lips on mine, met my breath with hers and sealed our tongues in a lock, as her breasts pressed against my chest, I slipped her zipper down. Her legs wrapped themselves around me and her mound was in my palm. I closed my hand and held her and she shook.
Our kiss was long, deep and her hands clawed in my hair while we came together. Our bodies entwined as though we already knew each other, inside and out. Back to front. From tip to toe.
We swayed and rocked to the music of each other’s bodies, tangoed on the beats of our hearts and the drums of our pulses. When finally she pulled her mouth from mine, we looked at each other for a moment in silent and tense amusement. Then I hoisted her up and slung her legs over my shoulders. With her pants and her underwear still on, hot and drenched as they were, I could barely stretch my tongue inside to reach her. And that was part of the charge.
She sat astride me, looking down. I watched in the mirror to see the anguish on her face. She saw me looking and her face flushed in fury. The more she rolled her hips to get me nearer to her weeping petals, farther up her trembling thighs, the more the zipper pushed my chin and my tongue out.
I flicked the tip up my tongue up at the front of her wet panties. She shoved her hips nearer. Her pants pushed me out again.
She did that enough times that I thought I would come just from laughing. The more I laughed the madder she got. Every time I thought I would stop and free her from the torment, she would get madder and I couldn’t resist keeping it going.
I lowered her. She kept her legs tight around me. I looked into her eyes. I never before felt such a huge tug from looking in someone’s eyes. It was like there were chains drawing us together.
Slowly I said, “It’s a one-time deal, Vesper. This isn’t the best time.”
Her thighs clamped hard around my body, her ankles pulled my back practically into her. She felt like she would crush me. The look on her face said for sure that she would.
“Okay,” I growled. I wasn’t so keen to get out of that clinch either. Something had to be done. “You know what they say in Little Rock.” Her eyes blazed. “‘Eatin’ ain't cheatin’,’ so I was thinking I could maybe stretch a point.” Before I could finish my carefully constructed proposition, her body swung and she knocked me to the ground.
Memories of that night would keep me awake. For the next five years, I turned over the few words that she’d said, tried to shake something out of them. And all of the sensations of her, the sounds of her and the sights. Trying to see how she could have done what she did.
A BAD BOY
TO KEEP YOU HOT?
PIERCE
A bad boy mafia romance
Kidnapped by a killer
“I didn’t give much thought to old man Grace’s curvy, sassy daughter when I slung her over my shoulder and kidnapped her. I wanted his club, she was only collateral. But they say that opposites attract, right?”
I have to hold the little minx close or she makes all kinds of havoc. That’s where the real trouble starts. However close I hold my feisty prisoner, the urge to hold her closer and tighter gets stronger. It uncoils like a fat, sleeping python then it lengthens and hardens and nothing will make it sleep until it has fed.
He’s hot as hell, but he’s a ruthless killer
“He took me hostage just to steal my daddy’s club. I needed to show him that I wasn’t like the paper-thin dancers and models who flowed into his arms and his bedsheets like a tide. I wanted to smack that smirk right off his chiseled face.
The longer he holds me in his power and try as hard as I might, I can’t push away the thoughts of how it will be if he turns his brutal force on me. Can I resist him?”
Luka: Perfectly Damaged – a Bad Boy Mafia Romance Page 20
