The Rossi Brothers

by J. L. Beck

  He thrust his hips slowly, pulling out of me before easing back in, setting a wonderful rhythm that has me panting. Warmth tingles down my spine. It’s different than the kind of pleasure he’s given me with his tongue and fingers.

  This is a deeper pleasure. Soul searing, body consuming.

  Damon does this for a short time, his hips flexing just enough for me to feel him deeper than previously. Each movement gives me unbelievable pleasure. Feeling the pressure build deep in my core, I tighten my legs around his middle, my feet digging into his ass, pulling him closer. My body is scorching hot as he peppers open mouthed kisses around my jawline until he reaches my ear.

  “You’ll always be mine now,” he whispers possessively before nipping on my earlobe, and I know he means that. I’ll always be his, and in return, he will always be mine.

  An electric current flows through my veins as his body claims mine with each thrust and kiss. I can feel how close I am to coming, the orgasm building deep within.

  “Come for me, baby. Milk my cock. Squeeze it tight. Give me your first of many orgasms on my cock.”

  His hard length seems to grow as he throbs inside me. My skin burns everywhere he touches, but his words are what drive me over the edge into pure bliss.

  As if he has a direct line to my pussy, my body follows his command and my walls clench around him as a mind blowing orgasm hits me. The feeling is so overwhelming, for a moment, I don’t know where I am or what’s going on. All I feel is pleasure consuming my every thought. Completely disoriented, I hold onto Damon, clinging to his body as I try to catch my breath.

  Damon grinds his pelvis into my center. The sensation is so deep, my toes curl against his backside. He does this a few more times before I feel his body shudder against mine. His jaw goes slack, and his eyes drift closed. He grunts, and I feel a warmth in my womb as he releases his hot seed. Remaining seated inside me, he hovers above me, and the closeness of his body makes me feel safe.

  Sex, sweat, and our unique scents coat the air. I realize now I wouldn’t care if I smelled Damon’s scent on me for the rest of my life. It all makes me feel safe—safer than I’ve felt in a long time.

  After a short while, when his cock finally goes soft inside me, Damon pulls out, rolling over onto his side, taking me and the blanket with him. Tucking me into his chest, I cuddle as close as I can to him.

  “I love you,” I mumble against his chest, then panic rips through me. I’m not sure if he heard me, and he doesn't say anything back.

  I don’t think a man like him is very familiar with the word, let alone the concept of it.

  “You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted to tell you before tomorrow. I don’t know what’s going to happen, and I want you to know you mean more to me than you think.”

  Silence blankets us. I snuggle deeper into his chest, praying even after tomorrow, we will get another chance to do this.

  My eyes drift shut, and it’s then I hear his words.

  “I don’t know if I’m capable of loving at all. Not anymore. Not after my past. But if I could love someone, it would be you. It would be you.”

  My chest constricts, and I know we need to survive tomorrow—we need to survive Xander. Not only to live, but maybe also to love.

  I wake up in the cocoon that is Damon. His arms are slung around me, and one of his legs is draped across both of mine, securing me to his body, making certain I don't escape. I have just enough room to breathe, and as my skin moves against his, I realize how sticky and hot we both are.

  Memories of the night before flood my mind. The way he cared for me and brought my body to unforeseen heights. I never expected him to be so gentle.

  I peer at Damon’s sleeping form. He looks so at peace, so happy, and I wish he could remain like this forever.

  I wish we could run away together and leave this life behind.

  Emotions swarm me as I realize today I'll be forced to see Xander again—the man who had my brother killed. Damon said he would protect me, but can he? Can he protect me from his own brother?

  Leo paid in blood…and for what? Stealing money? I didn't realize I was crying until I felt wetness against my cheeks. Pushing my face against Damon’s chest, I try to stop myself from letting any more tears fall. He stirs next to me, pulling me tighter into his embrace—almost squeezing me so hard, I can’t breathe.

  When a wheezing noise escapes me, he pulls my face toward his and stares into my eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I think sometimes you forget how strong you are.”

  “Were you crying?”

  “I was just thinking about my brother…that’s all.”

  “I’m sorry.” He takes my face between his two large hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs.

  “Everything is going to be okay. I can’t bring back your brother, but I can make sure nothing happens to you.”

  He kisses my cheeks, then claims my mouth. I can still taste the salty wetness on his lips. Deepening the kiss, I pull him closer, moaning into his mouth. Maybe I can trust Damon. Maybe I can believe everything will be okay.

  Damon breaks the kiss before it turns into something more, leaving me panting with need. “I don't think you know what you're asking for, baby.”

  I can feel his hardening cock against my leg, and I want to tell him I know exactly what I'm asking for, but Damon continues talking.

  “I’d love nothing more than to take your begging pussy, but you need a break after last night. So how about we go get some breakfast before I change my mind—because I can guarantee you wouldn't want me to take you again right now.”

  I nibble on my bottom lip mischievously. “And why is that? You don't know what I want?”

  Damon smirks. A predatory look fixes his eyes. “I did everything I could last night to make your first time everything you could have ever wanted, but right now, I want to fuck you like an animal in heat.”

  I shiver, but I’m positive it’s not from fear—not when the muscles in my belly tighten.

  “The idea is intriguing, but I can't control myself right now—and I won't hurt you. So get your beautiful ass out of bed and help me make breakfast.”

  My brow furrows. “You cook?”

  Damon untangles himself from my body and climbs out of bed.

  “I don’t like having people in my house. I have someone who cleans once a week, but that's it—and usually, I'm here when she is. But I don’t want staff around, and I don't want to eat take-out every night. That’s left me with one single option: cook for myself.”

  It dawns on me what this house means to Damon and why he’s so different here compared to how he is at the club—or anywhere else.

  This place is his sanctuary. It's the only place he can be himself. The only place he doesn’t have to pretend to be anything else. He doesn't have to be a hardened criminal here because there's no one to answer to.

  “So, you don’t like having me in your house?” I ask playfully.

  “You’re the exception to any and all my rules—not that it would matter anyway. This place is as much your home as it is mine. Now, come put some clothes on. My self-control is withering away as we speak.”

  I smile, loving that I have some kind of hold over him. He wants to protect me. He wants me safe and unharmed, and that makes my heart beat faster inside my chest.

  I watch him get dressed, my gaze greedily taking in his every movement. As soon as I stand, I feel the tenderness between my legs. My thighs are sticky, and I turn around noticing a smattering of blood against the sheets.

  Damon’s gaze moves from my face to the bed sheets, and I know he’s watching me piece the puzzle together.

  “Blood is normal after the first time. It’s nothing to be scared of, and there shouldn’t be any next time. It wasn’t from me taking you too roughly, because I can assure you I didn’t take you as hard as I could have—nor as hard as I wanted to.”

  My cheeks heat at the thought. My body burning up, and
my insides tingling with desire.

  “I know you didn’t, and I know you were holding back.”

  Damon’s jaw clenches in a way that makes me think he might be mad. Does he think he’s weak for being so kind to me? Or maybe he’s worried I thought he acted like a savage. But didn’t I? I thought he’d take me as he had all the other women he’d been with.

  “I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn't mean it like that. I just know you were trying to be kind—that you didn’t want to hurt me.” I’m digging a deeper hole.

  When Damon doesn’t say anything, I decide to shut up and take a shower.

  “I think I’m going to take a quick shower before I get dressed.”

  I feel awkward now, and I hate it. I ruined a good morning all because I couldn’t keep my damn mouth shut.

  Feeling shameful, I start toward the bathroom when a hand on my shoulder halts my movements. Damon’s grip tightens as he turns me into his chest. Two fingers bring my chin upward, and I’m forced to look at him.

  “It’s okay to see me as the monster I am, Keira, but it’s not okay to assume I would ever hurt you. I care for you like I’ve never cared for anyone, and just because I fuck like a beast doesn’t mean I’d take you that way. I can control myself. I can put the monster away to give you a piece of my heart.”

  I don’t even realize I have tears in my eyes until I feel the damn things sliding down my cheeks. I nod, pressing up on my tiptoes to kiss him. He lets me, but only briefly. Then he releases me, his eyes blazing with need.

  “Go...now,” he growls, then turns around and walks out of the room, disappearing down the hallway.

  I stand there a moment longer, my feet cemented into the floor before I make my way into his bathroom. It’s huge, magnificent, and has a fancy shower with multiple steam functions. It reminds me of those luxury showers you see in commercials or movies. I check out all the settings and decide that a nice steamy shower is exactly what I need. Turning the knob all the way to hot, I get in and let the water massage and heat my tender flesh. I always tense up when I get stressed out, and it makes my neck stiff and sore. The past few days have been stressful as hell and you better believe my neck is letting me know it.

  I stand under the shower way longer than I intended, so by the time I get out, my skin resembles a prune. Feeling ten times less stressed and a hundred times refreshed, I wrap myself up in a fluffy towel. Glad to have a bigger selection of clothes here now, I grab some fresh underwear, an ACDC shirt that used to be my brother’s, and a pair of skinny jeans. I dress quickly, brush my teeth, and comb through a dark mop of russet-brown hair.

  Once I have the rat’s nest tamed, I make my way to the kitchen, letting my nose guide me the entire way. There’s a delicious scent filling the air, and I’m half shocked Damon wasn’t lying about his cooking skills.

  As soon as I round the corner and step into the kitchen, I realize I must have spent way more time in the shower than I thought. Damon has already finished cooking and is setting the table.

  “Quick shower, huh?” He snickers.

  “Sorry,” I mutter, giving him a shy smile. I feel bad about the fact that he had to make breakfast all alone, but a few extra minutes in the shower was completely worth it.

  “It’s fine. Sit. Eat. You’ll need to replenish if you plan on doing anything else today.” He winks and points to a chair as he sets a plate down. A good portion of eggs topped with veggies and bacon cover it. I do as he asks, inhaling the aroma of the food.

  My gaze lifts to Damon’s. He looks at home, appearing as if this all comes natural. And with every new thing I learn about him, I want to learn more. There isn’t enough time in the day to learn what makes him tick.

  I lift my fork and dig in. It’s hot as hell and nearly burns my tongue, but the flavor explodes in my mouth—the taste even better than it smells. The veggies are cooked perfectly, and the eggs are fluffy and mixed with a little bit of cheese.

  “Wow, this is really good.”

  “Now, if you would say that with a little less surprise, I might actually take it as a compliment.” He laughs a belly-shaking chuckle.

  I’m slightly shocked, and I hope he can’t tell. I want to hear that kind of happiness escape his lips again. I take a drink of orange juice, then swallow down the food in my mouth.

  His deep laugh echoes throughout the large kitchen. It’s infectious. And I start laughing. I’ve never seen Damon so at ease, and it makes me happy and less nervous. Our carefree morning routine comes to a halt though when his cell phone rings. His eyes gloss, and all happiness drains from his face. The mask I often see him wear slips back into place.

  He lets the call go to voicemail, then the phone chimes again.

  I try to focus on finishing my breakfast and less on what he is doing, but my appetite is gone now.

  “It’s Xander, and he wants us to come to dinner. He’s also invited the rest of our family.”

  My brows pinch together in confusion. “The rest of your family?”

  “Yes, I have two uncles left alive, and they’ll be joining us.”

  Damon doesn’t elaborate, but he looks less than happy. And although I don’t want to pry, I am dying to know more about his family. Partly out of curiosity, and partly out of fear. For some reason, I feel like knowing more about him may make this less scary.

  At least if I know what I’m walking into I can prepare myself.

  Forcing another bite of food into my mouth, I decide to ask him some questions.

  “What happened to your parents?”

  Damon’s mood darkens, and I regret asking him. Maybe bringing up this conversation right after his asshole brother contacted him isn’t such a good idea.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” I swallow the food in my mouth even though I feel like vomiting.

  “My father wasn’t what you would call a father. Every choice he made was for himself and his businesses. He was selfish, and he scared my brother and I in the worst ways. He did things to us no man should ever do to a child—let alone his own sons. We needed someone to protect us, but my mother turned a blind eye, as if she didn’t see the fucking things he was doing.

  “My mother died when we were ten, and that’s when things took a dark turn.” The most sinful smile I’ve ever seen appears on his lips, and it makes me shiver with actual fear.

  “Thankfully, the fucker is dead now. A bullet to the heart will do that, though. In the end, he got what he deserved. The scars he left on my brother and I might not be visible to the naked eye, but that’s because they’re more than skin deep.”

  When I get the courage to look at him again, I see a sadness in his eyes, and I understand what he’s saying. His father did this to him, trained him, taught him to be this man, and it’s not something he can change—or give up. He didn’t have a choice, and I’m sure he hates that.

  “And your brother? Xander? What happened to him?” I hate to ask more questions, to dig deeper, but I want Damon to tell me everything. I want to know him inside and out, even if that includes learning about his sick, twisted brother.

  “He took the brunt of the pain. He took the beatings, the jobs. He became father’s right hand, and because of that I’ll never be able to repay him. He protected me when mother wouldn’t and when our father wanted to kill me.”

  I gasp, but Damon continues as if he didn’t hear me. “But that doesn’t mean I like him the way he is. I care for my brother. I care about him because he is my brother…my blood. But blood doesn’t always mean family, and I hate knowing my brother is a crueler monster than our father ever was. I hate that he let our father control him, train, and groom him to be the leader of our family, and that even after our father died, Xander could have changed—he could have become better, made the family better—but he ended up becoming just like him…worse even.”

  I lift a hand to my throat, knowing the bruises are still there. Damon would never do that to
me. He’d grab me, stop me from going somewhere, pin me down, but he’d never rip the air from my lungs. He’d never look at me with a hunger to kill.

  Not the way Xander stared at me when he pinned me against the wall.

  Damon clears his throat, breaking my train of thought. “He will pay for touching you, Keira. He knows you’re mine, and he touched you simply because he knew it would hurt me.”

  “He looked at me with a desire to kill.”

  “And he would’ve killed you. I know, because he is my brother. I know what makes him tick. I know what sets him off. But he didn’t because he has other plans for us. I’m not stupid. He wouldn’t call a meeting like this after years of being absent from my life without having some type of plan, and he doesn't let anyone live unless they serve his purpose.”

  The thought terrifies me. Does that mean he’ll kill Damon and I outright? I don’t want to die yet, not when I’ve just finally started to enjoy life again. I’ve lost so much already—my parents, my brother. But Damon has too. He lost both his parents and technically his brother.

  “Did he kill your father?” The question is on the tip of my tongue. I feel I know the answer, but I want Damon to confirm it.

  “Yes. Not that the bastard didn’t deserve it. It changed him, though. It made him evil.” Damon sighs, and I can see the conversation is bothering him. I don’t want to ruin our morning further.

  Desperate to change the subject, I try to think of something else to ask. “Does it matter what I wear tonight? Is it the kind of dinner party you dress up for? Because if I’m expected to wear anything besides jeans and a T-shirt, we’re going to have a problem.” I force a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

  Damon doesn’t skip a beat. “I’ll have Candy pick you up something, and you can dress at the club. I have to swing by there before dinner anyway. It’ll work out perfectly.”

  The thought of Candy picking clothes out for me sounds scarier than going to dinner with his family. My face must reflect what I’m thinking.