by J. L. Beck
Her fear is understandable, but she doesn’t have the slightest clue how badly it could’ve ended.
“She didn’t come here to shoot me, baby. She came to shoot you.” I trail my thumb over her bottom lip. “And I was going to be fucking damned if I let her succeed. You are my all—my start, my middle, and my ending. She tried to take you from me, so I ended her life. Nobody fucks with what is mine. Nobody.”
Keira fists my shirt. “I was just...I was scared.”
I cup her cheeks. Her skin is warm and wet with tears. “No one is ever going to take me from you. The fact that you care more for me than yourself, or that I killed someone right before your eyes…” I shake my head. “It rattled me to the core, baby. You’re selfless, and your kind and caring nature makes up for everything I lack.”
Keira’s frown turns into a soft smile, and I lean down, pressing my lips against hers. Her head falls against the cupboard, exposing her smooth neck. I want to fuck her right now—to make sure she feels secure, happy, content, but she doesn’t need that right now. She just needs me…my touch.
I pull away, exhaling a ragged breath. Keira’s chest heaves, pressing her breasts up with each breath. As I stare down at my soon-to-be wife, her beauty reflecting upon me, my brother’s words pop into my head.
“Damon, I need you to come to the mansion. We have some important matters to discuss, and you should bring Keira as well.”
I’m not dumb enough to think this was a coincidence. The fact that my brother called and demanded I come to his home, then Hayley has a mental breakdown and shows up at my house with a gun—it’s all fishy as fuck, and I’m going to figure out what the hell is going on.
“Baby, we need to go pack a couple bags. We’re going to go stay with Xander for a little bit.” Worry flickers in her eyes, and I know she’s still in shock. She’s going to need some time to digest all this.
“Actually, you know what, wait here, I’ll pack some stuff.”
“Okay,” she mumbles, not even making a move to get up.
I rush upstairs to our bedroom, my feet slamming against the wood floor with each step. When I make it to the room, I go through the drawers, grabbing panties, bras, T-shirts, yoga pants—anything I can get my hands on. I pull a small suitcase from the closet and shove all the shit into it. I don’t worry about my own clothing. I have a bunch of shit at Xander’s place anyway. Once done, I race around the bathroom grabbing a bunch more of Keira’s shit, and when I get back to the kitchen, I toss the suitcase aside and look at Keira. Her ass is still seated on the counter like she’s a part of it.
“Are…?” I start, but the sound of the doorbell ringing interrupts us once again, and I grind my teeth together, pulling away.
“Stay put until they get the body out of here. Okay?” I hate the way I sound and how bossy I am being. I don’t think she would get up anyway, since she hasn’t moved since I put her on the damn counter.
Keira nods her head, placing her hands in her lap. She still seems shaken up, but I know she’ll move on. She knows nothing’s going to happen to me, and anyone who tries to hurt her may as well commit suicide because they’re dead for trying.
I step over Hayley’s body and peek through the glass, checking to make sure it’s Toni. When I see his round face and two of my men flanking him, I open the door. After he and the other men enter, Toni’s eyes scan the scene. He doesn’t ask questions, and even if he did, I wouldn’t give him answers. He doesn’t need to know what happened. I pay him to clean up the mess and keep his mouth shut.
“Boss,” the three greet me in unison, and I tip my chin at them.
“Make it look like an accident. I don’t care what kind.” My stomach churns as I walk away, leaving Toni to clean up the mess.
I march back into the kitchen, walk over to Keira, and cup her cheeks. I rub my thumbs up and down them, breathing deeply.
“Everything is going to be fine, baby. Everything is going to be fine,” I whisper, praying like hell my words aren’t a lie.
If anything happens to Keira, I’ll kill everyone.
Every. Single. Person.
21
Keira
I stare at my hands as we stand in the kitchen, waiting for them to move Hayley’s body. Her death hasn’t fully sunk in. Strangely, I don’t feel bad. You’re supposed to feel bad when someone dies, right? I was sad when my brother died. I should be sad Hayley’s dead. I should be terrified the man I love killed her, snapping her neck right in front of me.
He did it without thought—like his body knew what it was doing—like it was something he did every single day.
I’m still waiting for feelings to come, but I feel nothing. My emotions twist out of control, and all I can think about is I could’ve lost Damon—and if I had, it would’ve been at her hands.
A horrible thought enters my mind. I want to forget it, but once it’s there, I can’t seem to get it out. If I would have had the chance, I would have killed her myself. If I were as strong as Damon—no, I know I would have broken her neck myself.
Damon is standing right in front of me, watching me as if I’m seconds away from exploding. He’s probably wondering how I’m going to handle all this. What would he think of me if he knew what I was conjuring up right now?
My dark thoughts are interrupted when Toni steps into the room.
“All done, boss.”
“All right. Come on, baby.” Damon offers me a hand, helping me off the counter. He guides me out of the room, grabbing the suitcase he packed on the way out.
We walk through the foyer where Hayley’s dead body was laying across the floor. It’s gone now, but my eyes are still fixated to the spot. I walk around the area like it’s going to burn my shoes if I touch it—like the wood is tainted or something…as if her death has left an evil residue on the floor.
Damon holds my hand, practically dragging me out the door to his car like nothing happened. It’s strange to go from someone dying to pretending like nothing happened.
When we make it to the car, he opens the door and all but lifts me into the passenger seat. I know I need to say something, anything, to make him aware I’m okay, but I don’t want to say a word. I don’t think I can without breaking down.
All I can think about is a world without Damon. I knew he was dangerous, that he came with an X on his back, but I guess, in my eyes, he seemed invincible. But after tonight, I know he’s not. He’s just as close to death as the rest of us—maybe even closer considering what he does for a living.
I don’t even realize Damon’s in the car and we’re driving down the road until I catch a pair of headlights coming at us.
“Would you please say something?” Damon’s white knuckling the steering wheel, clearly upset by my silence, but I don’t know what to say that I haven’t already.
“I’m okay,” I mumble. I can see the worry in his gaze, and I don’t want him to be concerned about me, because it’s not me I’m worried about. It’s going to take time, but I’ll be okay.
I spent so much time trying to run from him and fearing him, only to end up being terrified of losing him. Even after all this, all we’ve been through, all he’s done, I love him beyond this life.
I’ll love him forever.
For the rest of the drive, I stare out the window and watch the scenery whizzing by while I try to remember the person I was this morning. Damon doesn’t say anything else after I tell him I’m okay, and I’m thankful.
We pull up to the Rossi mansion, and I take a deep breath before opening my door at the same time Damon does. We both get out of the car, and Damon grabs the suitcase from the back. My feet feel heavy as I trudge up the stairs, my hand in his. It isn’t until we’re halfway to the front door that I notice Xander standing at the top, waiting for us just like he did last time. He looks like the king. Like he owns the whole fucking world.
“Little brother, I wasn’t expecting you today. I thought we agreed on tomorrow,” Xander calls out in a cheerful voice. He give
s me a smile, showing off his straight white teeth.
I blink, my gaze swinging to Damon’s, wondering why Xander was expecting us tomorrow. I know right away there’s something he isn’t telling me, and I don’t like it. Not at all. Damon gives his brother a heated glare, looking as if he’s about to break someone’s neck again.
“Let’s get inside and have a drink before we talk about anything.” Damon sounds irritated, and his tone confirms my hunch that there is something going on I don’t know about.
“Be my guest.” Xander gestures for us to enter.
Damon’s hand tightens in mine, and he pulls me over the threshold and into the house.
Did I mention I hate being here?
We walk into the dining room, and my eyes move to the table where we had dinner, then out over the patio and garden.
“We should really discuss this in my office.” Xander’s eyes bore into mine. “Alone.”
I want to smack the stupid right out of him. If he thinks I’m giving them privacy than he’s dumber than I thought.
“She goes with me. Someone just fucking shot at her, and I had to kill the bitch, so I don’t really care what you have to say about it, Xander.”
“Fine. I see you are in a foul mood. Maybe you should just call it a night and we’ll talk tomorrow when you are more…settled.” Xander gives us a wicked smile and steps aside for us to pass.
“You’re right. Let’s go get some rest. We’ll deal with this tomorrow.” Damon tugs me past Xander and up the staircase. I don’t complain. Lying down in a bed right now sounds amazing—especially when Damon is going to be lying next to me.
I practically sprint up the stairs. I’m more than eager to get away from Xander, ready to lock myself in the bedroom with Damon. As soon as we enter, the lights filter on and he closes the door, flicking the lock into place. I highly doubt that lock would stop his brother from coming in, but I guess it’s the thought that counts.
“I’m sorry.” Remorse, maybe even guilt, coats Damon’s words. It doesn’t sound right—the word “sorry” falling from his lips. I get the feeling he doesn’t say it often…if at all.
“Why? You don't have anything to be sorry for,” I say, turning around to face him once my ass hits the bed. He releases the suitcase, and it falls to the floor with a thud. Then he’s on me, crossing the space between us in a second.
“I’m sorry because I brought you into this shit world. You could’ve left—hell, you should’ve, but you stayed. And after tonight, after how close I came to losing you...it’s killing me I might have lost you.”
“Damon, you didn’t bring me into this, my brother did.” The words pain me, but that doesn't make them any less true. I know Leo was trying to support me, and that makes my guilt even worse, but in the end, it was Leo who got caught up in this. He could have found another way. We could have found another way together.
“My brother is the one who started this with whatever he did or didn’t do for Xander. He got himself killed and left me to deal with his mess. You took me in when you didn’t have to—you take care of me and protect me. So don’t tell me sorry for doing what you do, when I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
There is so much more I want to tell him, but it doesn't seem like there are enough minutes in the day. I want to profess all the emotions coursing through me right now to him. I want to make sure he does not have an inkling of doubt in his mind about us. I want to tell him I’d kill for him too, and I couldn’t imagine my world without him now. Damon is no longer just my protector. He’s my soon-to-be husband—my everything. I want to tell him all that and more, but I can’t, because his lips are pressed to mine in an all-consuming kiss.
I feel every single emotion in that kiss—adoration, lust, desire, safety. I feel it all. His tongue pushes into my mouth, and all I can think of is his tongue all over my body—on my neck, my breasts, my stomach, trailing all the way down to my pussy. My muscles clench around nothing but air, and I wish it was his tongue dipping inside me.
I moan into his mouth and grab onto his shirt. I fist the material in my hands, desperately wanting it off. He breaks the kiss long enough to give me a panty-melting smile before ripping my shirt off.
I hear material rip, but I don’t care. Everything separating our bodies from becoming one is an inconvenience.
Slamming his lips back onto mine, our teeth clash. My arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer.
I need him closer…so much closer.
I feel his fingers unfasten my bra, and I help him get it off. With a gentle nudge backward, I’m lying on the bed as he peels off my yoga pants, then tosses the remnants to the floor.
I watch him start to take off his own pants, biting my lip when his huge cock finally springs free.
My body is restless. My thighs keep rubbing together in anticipation, and I can feel how wet I already am…just from kissing. I want more of him—his fingers, his mouth, his cock. I want him to own me and worship me—all at the same time.
“I want you, Damon,” I purr, reaching for him.
I barely recognize my voice as my own, it’s so heavy with need.
Damon lets out what sounds like a primal growl before he’s back on me, his eyes as black as the night sky.
I spread my legs as wide as I can to give him full access, and he takes advantage. My body feels like molten lava, his gaze burning through me. Need floods me as I watch him fist his swollen cock, rubbing the tip all along my wet slit. My pussy clenches, begging with each flutter for more—for him.
“I want you, Damon. I want you to fuck me like you did last time we were here.” I lift my gaze to his and cup his cheeks. I see confliction in his gaze.
“I...I don’t know if I can.” His voice cracks, and the way he’s looking at me kills me. But I want him to know I trust him, that I love him. And I want him to know he’ll never hurt me.
“You won’t hurt me.” I stretch to kiss him again, molding my lips to his. “I trust you, Damon. I love you, and I know you won’t do anything to hurt me.”
“I hurt you last time. I can’t do that again. I vowed I wouldn’t, and I won’t.”
His fingers trail down my arms, and I shiver at his touch, excitement zinging through my veins.
“Only in the beginning, and only because I wasn’t ready. Trust me, I’m ready now, and I want you. I want you so bad it hurts.” I lick my lips.
“Fuck, Keira.” I watch him swallow. His gaze turns heated, and I can tell the moment he chooses to let go. There’s a newfound roughness in his touch, and it’s exhilarating.
“If you change your mind, just say the word,” he murmurs against my lips before slanting his mouth against mine. The kiss is all-consuming, stealing air from my lungs. When his fingers dig into my hair, tilting my head back, I think I might explode.
He doesn’t stick to kissing my lips—no, his mouth trails down my neck and over my chest, sucking on the tender flesh over my pulse. I fist the sheets as pleasure fills my veins.
I’m ready to melt when he suddenly pulls back, then stands next to the bed. I miss his skin on mine and whimper at the loss. Grabbing me under my knees, he pulls me toward him so my ass is hanging right at the edge of the bed.
His huge hands maintain their grip on my knees, and I can feel the silky, smooth head of his cock at my entrance. The contact makes my back arch off the bed. I’m ready…so ready for him. My pussy drips with need.
Peering down at me, his dark orbs remain on mine as he spears me with his cock. Air fizzles from my lungs, and my eyes drift closed for a moment as I relish in the slight burn of pleasure.
I cry out in bliss. There is no pain this time as his cock slides into my channel with ease. My eyes flicker open, but remain hooded as I watch him pull out and slam back in without pause.
His pupils are so dilated, I can’t see any color. He’s never looked so dangerous when touching me, and yet I don’t feel any fear at all…only desire.
My hands reach for the sheets—f
or something that will help ground me to this bed.
He lets go of one of my knees and pushes it to the bed, spreading me wide. With his free hand, his fingers travel down my inner thigh to where we are joined, finding my center, and he puts the rough pad of his thumb on my swollen clit, all while never ceasing to thrust his rock-hard cock into me.
With him fucking me like this and his skilled fingers on my clit, it doesn't take me long to be panting and moaning like a wild cat in heat. My body thrashes, and I feel the orgasm coming.
Starting with a tingle low in my belly, the feeling spreads through my body like a wildfire. Every cell in my body is burning up, scorching away—only to be reborn in the next moment.
I’m pretty sure I scream his name, my mind lost in need and lust. Thinking has been replaced with the instinct to take and give pleasure.
My voice is still useless by the time Damon flips me, bending me over the edge of the bed. He doesn't waste any time, entering me again before I know what’s happening, making me moan into the mattress.
“Is this what you wanted, wife? To be owned? To have my cock claim you?”
I'm a mess, and I can’t even form a coherent response, so I just moan louder.
His hands roam over my ass and back, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and then out of nowhere, I feel a sting, the effects of his hand having slapped one of my ass cheeks. I slip forward and sigh as he massages the pain away.
“Mmmm, your pussy is impossibly wet. I can hear how much you want me.” His hot breath touches my ears, the words sending me spiraling out of control. In this new position, he is hitting a different spot, a deeper one. This angle means I can feel his head hit the back of my channel, leaving his balls to slap my clit.
His hands settle on my hips—which he uses as leverage—pulling me toward him every time he thrusts. I can feel each stroke in my bones.
I don’t know how long he fucks me like this. Could be minutes or hours, but I’m somewhere lost in oblivion where time doesn't exist.
Only pleasure and bliss. Only Damon Rossi.
