Filthy Desire: A Mafia Romance (The Dirty Kings of Vegas Book 4)

by Frankie Love

  I smile. “You might when you know why he wanted you to marry his gobshite offspring.”

  Jack protests, “They’d be great for each other.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion, to say the least.” I look in his eye, but he can’t look back in mine. “That’s not the reason, though. Is it, jack?”

  “Look, Liam…”

  “Tell her, Jack. Tell her about Dixie Dean’s”

  Jack’s face drains pale. Aaron blurts, “How the fuck do you know about–” My arm straightens and I hold the silver pistol at Aaron’s forehead.

  Evenly, I say, “Tell her, Jack.”

  He sighs heavily. Then he shrugs and tells her ,“It’s a bar. On the edge of the old commercial district. It’s a dank, dirty, run-down bar with almost no customers. Okay? It’s a shithole and if you went in there, you probably wouldn’t come out alive.”

  “What else does it have, Jack?”

  Jack hesitates. I cock the gun I’m holding on him.

  “Alright.” He’s looking all around him now. But he gets it out. “It’s got a variance. Zoning permission and approval for a club.”

  “And?” I prompt him.

  “Development grants. From a regeneration fund.”

  “So?” Tegan sounds puzzled.

  My voice slows and hardens. “Go on, Jack.”

  “Okay. Alright! The bar belonged to your daddy.”

  “That’s the bar he had a share in?”

  I tell her, “Yeah. But it wasn’t a share. It was one hundred percent his.”

  She frowns. Then she starts, “What’s that got to do with me marrying…” and, instantly, we’re all caught up. She gets it.

  Jack’s face falls. “Technically, the deed to the bar belongs to you. It’s yours.”

  “Tell her why.”

  “Liam…”

  “Tell her.”

  She’s seen it. She covers her face with her hands.

  “You had him killed.”

  Jack shouts, “Listen,”

  But she isn’t going to listen. She spits in Jack’s face. Then touches my hand as she steps past me. Her cheek is wet as she walks outside.

  Out into the fresh, clean air.

  I shake my head.

  “How did we get to this, Jack? You know, I really was going to let you get away with it. Fucking up the business I left you to take care of. Even worse, leaving your idiot son here to fuck it up. And thinking you could disrespect me. For all of our history, I was going to let all that go.” I’m chewing my lip now. “But treating Teagan the way you have, you made me forget all the reasons I would do that.”

  His face is red. He shouts, “Seriously, Liam? You’d forget our history over that little whore?”

  And those are the last words he’ll speak.

  The long 9mm kicks in my hand. With a jagged black hole punched between his eyes, Jack’s head rolls back. He crumples to the floor like a rag doll.

  Aaron leers as he lifts a revolver from behind his back. Of course, he has a huge black 44 Remington Magnum Super.

  I’m shaking my head. The bollocks can hardly hold it steady, but still, he’s too dumb to use two hands.

  “You did me a big favor, old man,” he crows. “Now I inherit the crown early.”

  “True,” I agree, “But not for long.”

  “What?” he sneers, shaking his flashy revolver.

  I shrug. “I never was going to let you get away with what you said to her.”

  Before he’s got a round chambered, I give him two shots.

  To be sure, to be sure, as we used to say in the old days, back in Dublin.

  Chapter Eleven

  Tegan

  Out on the deck, I’m looking down at Carrick’s red face, twisted in a feral snarl. Finn and Gavin lashed him with cable ties into a corner of the wood fence around the deck. They perch either side of him.

  I knew straight away I could trust them both.

  Carrick’s eyes flash and he chews the inside of his mouth as the first shot cracks inside the cabin. Then two more.

  I flinch at the first one. I’m ready for the other two. When I hear the shots and I know what they mean. Inside, I’m washed through with numb relief.

  Finn says, “I knew your daddy, Tegan. He was a good man. You can be proud of his memory.”

  I can’t process it all. Not yet. But Finn’s kindness touches me. Liam has great people around him.

  When I hear the quick, steady thump of his feet and he strides out through the busted doorway, I spin around to see him.

  His face is full of concern. I run, spring to him, to hold onto him. To be wrapped in his arms. My gut churns in turmoil; fear and apprehension, mixed with a buzz that I can hardly contain. Wrapped around him, I’m afraid that he won’t want me, that I’m being inappropriate, that I’m embarrassing him.

  But I let that go.

  For this moment, I feel safe. After the last few hours, and the last few months, I feel like I deserve that much.

  He holds me tenderly. Strokes my hair as he folds me, wraps me in his strong arms.

  Then a panic shakes me. I look up.

  “I don’t want to go back to that house.”

  “I’ve thought of that, butterfly.” I hold on to him tighter when he calls me that. His business here is probably done now. I don’t want to let go. He’ll be gone too soon, I know it. But he’s here now.

  I press my ear against his chest and feel the rumble as he speaks.

  “I talked to Finn. We’ll take you to his mammies house. You’ll be welcome and well cared for. She’ll feed you up. Gavin will get your things from the O’Leary house.”

  “That place,” I shudder. Then, “You’re going back to Las Vegas?”

  He pulls me closer. “Not yet, Butterfly.”

  Ma Connolly’s bar has a bustling restaurant full of steam and laughter, and the air is warm with comforting, appetizing cooking smells.

  In back, her own dining room is a thieves palace. There are enough people around the big table to run the city or steal it, if they’d ever stop laughing long enough.

  Ma Connolly herself is a big, hearty, no-nonsense woman with red cheeks and flowing red hair to match.

  “Liam, you old crook,” she calls to him, “How long has it been? And this poor beauty. Did you kidnap her?”

  Her welcome is like a hard, joyful shake, and it makes everything seem alright. At least while I’m sat at a corner of the table with Liam. For now, I couldn’t want more.

  She greets me like part of her family and asks me, “Is he holding you against your will, child? Say the word and I’ll rip the rascal’s head off.”

  Ma slides a hefty plate of ham and eggs and potatoes in front of me before I’ve even sat.

  She twinkles like a gypsy queen as she stands a big mug of coffee by me. Just the scent of the steam makes my eyes open. “Breakfast,” Ma Connolly says. “Start the day over. End it wherever you feel like.”

  Before she goes, she tells me, “You’ve nice big rooms upstairs. If there’s anything you need,” and she slides a look at Liam, “Well, I think you’ve got someone who’ll be taking care of you. But if you do need anything at all, I’ll either be here or in the restaurant. That or throwing people out of the bar.”

  I don’t feel like I can eat. I’m too jumpy and jangled inside. But Liam insists I take some food.

  Once I start, I clean the plate in no time and I do feel like I’ve started over.

  I stretch and tell Liam, “I need a shower.”

  Ma Connolly heard me from across the room. She looks up from the gaggle of well-dressed men she’s with.

  “Liam,” her voice carries without her having to raise it. “You’ve the big rooms at the top. The ones at the front. You should find everything you need.”

  The rooms are airy with high-ceilings, and the smell of fresh linen. Pillows and cushions cover the huge bed.

  Liam shows me inside, then leans back on the door as he closes it behind us.

 
“Before you get clean,” his voice scrapes down me like a slow zipper, “I’m going to make sure you’re really filthy.”

  I turn, startled.

  He’s so close, I catch my breath. Takin a grip of of my ass, he pulls me tight against him. My tits, hot, soft and bare under his cotton shirt, crush on his hard torso. The sore buds swell and scratch.

  His lip curls and trembles as he lowers his face to mine. My breasts heave as my breath thickens. The racing beat of my heart makes me light-headed.

  “Yes.” The word only comes out of me as a whisper. Everything slips into slo-mo. Until our mouths meet. Join. Explore. And lock, in a wild, uninhibited, thrashing struggle.

  Then lights go on inside me. Colors, dazzling so bright it’s like a sound.

  He pulls the shirt, his shirt, down off my shoulders. Down till it binds my arms.

  I see a flame in his eye. He likes that. I like it, too.

  But the game is for him to find out how I like it. How and what. And where.

  I don’t know how I know.

  Like I don’t know how we agree the unspoken, unknown rules. But we do.

  He lifts me, hauls me over his shoulder. I’m slung over his back. My arms are bound by my sides.

  His hand is on my ass.

  Yes.

  I like that.

  And he loves me liking it. We know. I can’t believe that his mind is as dirty as mine.

  The first slap makes me convulse. I groan as my knees jam into his chest. I shout and moan.

  With the second slap, his hand stays on the sting. The burning mark. On the third slap, he turns to nip the flesh on my hip with his teeth. And his fingers slip along my channel. My hot, swollen, dripping wet pussy.

  “You are a dirty girl.”

  He pushes his fingers inside me. Makes me jerk and jolt. He moves them. Turns them to explore my opening. Feel up my walls.

  “What a beautiful cunt,” he growls. “I was dreaming of it all night.”

  I realize now what I did wrong.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “What?”

  “I shouldn’t have left you. I got up to make coffee…”

  Thwack! My punishment, I guess.

  He says, “Don’t apologize.” Thwack! Again. “You did nothing wrong.”

  “I should have told you where I was going. Or left a note. I’m so sorry.”

  Thwack!

  That time, it really stung. I’m starting to like this far too much. “I must have put you to a lot of trouble, trying to find me.”

  Cushions and pillows bounce as he slings me down on the bed.

  “You’re so young, Tegan. You deserve a better man than me. Especially for your first time.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Tegan

  “For my first time,” I plead, “I deserve a man who knows what he’s doing.” I shudder, thinking about the cabin. “I definitely deserve a man of my own choosing. If you hadn’t come and found me, that choice wouldn’t have been mine to make. I have you to thank.”

  His voice is deep and powerful. “I want you, Tegan. It’s wrong. But I’m going to take you and to claim you.”

  “Do whatever you want with me, Liam.”

  His eyes make me burn inside when he says, “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you. Even though I knew it was wrong.”

  “Is it wrong? Am I wrong to want you?”

  “I’m too old for you.”

  “Don’t I get a say in that?”

  “No,” he snarls. “Because I’m older, I take the responsibility.”

  I’m ready to beg. “So, if the choice has to be yours, what will it be?”

  “I’m going to have you, Tegan. I’m going to break you in and fuck you.”

  He unbuckles my belt. His belt. That I’m wearing.

  “I’m claiming you, Tegan. I’m going to take you.”

  I want to ask, Then what? but I know I’m not ready for the answer. I want him now. Nothing matters more than that.

  He undoes the shirt I’m wearing, button by button. Plants fluttering kisses on my neck, my chest, between my tits. Down my stomach as the shirt opens to bare my skin.

  He growls when he finds me naked under the shirt. I almost come, thinking about how close I got to being exposed in front of Jack and Aaron.

  But now I’m happy that I saved my naked pussy for my bear.

  He’s making me wait and I tremble.

  “You smell so fucking hot, Tegan. Your young pussy is dripping for me.”

  “Yes!”

  I gasp and jolt as his fingers slide over my wet wings, then slip inside me. I’m breathless.

  It’s finally going to happen, and I’m going to be broken by one of the biggest gangsters in Las Vegas. I’m dizzy at the thought. His mouth drops onto my clit and his teeth nip as he sucks me, rolls his tongue over me. Along me. Through me.

  “Yes Liam, yes! Your tongue feels so good inside me.”

  His strong, agile tongue slips into me and his hands run all over my pussy, stretching my wings. Then down. Into the crack, then my hips jump as he presses into my tight little star. He blows air into me. I grab his head with both hands and claw at it. Eruptions of sensation rumble and release, flowing from my core to my tits and through my thighs.

  With his other hand, he opens his pants and my breath snatches as he unsheathes his cock. It’s so huge, I’m afraid.

  It’s longer and fatter than I can believe.

  “It’s… impossible,” I gasp.

  There’s fire in his eyes. “This might hurt,” he says, lifting my thighs as he stretches his muscular body over me.

  “Oh, Liam. I hope so.” My voice sounds fearless. That’s not at all how I feel. Not knowing how the pain will feel, I’m borderline terrified. I half hope it will be really quick, the painful part, at least.

  At the same time, I know I’m going to love the pain. Especially because it’s him.

  But he’s making me wait. Fingering me. Touching me deep inside. Reaching for the high spot in the folds. Making me shudder and moan.

  I rock my hips. My legs tremble and shake.

  He kisses and sucks my breasts and he slides the underside of his cock against my mound. I moan as he scrapes the top of my hood, tugging on my clit, raising hot friction from the back of my channel to the front.

  I claw his back and his ass, shaking my head and moaning his name.

  The head of his huge cock drops to lock into my entrance. I moan.

  “Liam. My man. My mobster. My killer.”

  And I arc and cry out. He splits me.

  He can’t be that big. He’s going to rip me in two. My arms and legs shake. I hammer the sides of my fists into his shoulders as he slices through me.

  He stretches me. Wider than I can believe. I stretch out my arms and legs, and raise my ass. Anything to open wider. The raw burn buzzes through me.

  “Oh, God!” I shout, “I love that!”

  As he drills deeper, I fling my arms and legs around him, wrap myself tight, pull him in as far as I can.

  “Liam,” I gasp, “you’re tearing me apart!”

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No!”

  “Good,” he spears higher, probing the end of his cock against my soft, virgin flesh. “I wasn’t going to.”

  I grip him as tight as I can, but my knees and wrists and elbows are weak and watery. I’m a huge cave of need, blasted open by him, desperate for more of him.

  All I can feel and think of is him. More of him. All of him. Harder, farther, deeper inside me.

  When I tip my pelvis up to open wider, his thumb slips straight into my asshole. He massages, coaxing me wider.

  As he hammers faster and deeper, I’m losing control, slapping my hips hard against his.

  Bursts of sensation ripple and whip through my body.

  I’m gripping with my walls, but I can’t hold him. As hard as I can tighten around him, he just drills me harder.

  “Liam,” I shout. “Liam, fuck m
e. Fuck me and don’t stop. Fuck! Don’t ever stop!”

  He holds my hips, tilting me so he can get higher and deeper at the front of me.

  His slick crown and his hot shaft send me over the edge again. Inside, I’m collapsing and exploding at the same time. Over and over.

  I fumble for his hands. I want my fingers locked in his. He has the same idea. He grabs both my hands and stretches my arms up, splaying me, pinning me as he pounds me and fills me.

  His powerful beat is relentless. Merciless. Tireless. And hez breathes hard, calls my name as he speeds up. Reaming me harder.

  Sweat soaks through his clothes. We tangle and race, buck and slam together.

  Hotter. Higher. Harder. Until we kiss like hungry animals and stare, fixed in each other’s eyes.

  Fixed on each others’ sex. Exploding in each other’s tumbling cascades of orgasm. I’m helpless, wide open, swirling from the crashing blast, feeling the currents rise and gather, waiting, open-mouthed for the next.

  He swells, throbbing hot and hard, plunging deeper, filling me harder, sending me over again.

  “Tegan,” he rasps, “you’re mine.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re fucking mine”

  “Yes. Liam! Yes!”

  My killer stares hard in my eye. His eyes widen and his neck glows red.

  And a long jet of thick, sticky, hot loving spunk hoses and coats me inside.

  We cling together. Wet, hot, panting. My fingers shake as I touch his face. Trace his lips.

  “Tegan,” he says, “You’re wonderful. And you deserve so much better.”

  “Are you kidding? The only thing better that could possibly be than that, is if we do it again. Nothing else will ever do for me.”

  “I’ve ruined you.”

  “Pretty much.”

  We kiss. He’s still inside me. I’m drowsy and euphoric and needy.

  I murmur, “You should probably make sure, though. See that I’m totally wrecked. Beyond repair.”

  “Hmm.” He strokes wet hair away from my face. “How about that shower?”

  My eyes well up and as I look in his face I want to say something. But I daren’t. It would spoil it.