Keep: Romanian Mob Chronicles (9 page)

F
awn

Esther frowned at
me and then shook her head.

“What did you expect me to do, Fawn?”

“Not come here,” I said, still boggled at what she had done, what she’d risked.

“Right. I’m supposed to let that menacing-as-fuck dude walk into my home, bodily remove my best friend from it, and not do a thing?”

“He’s a good man,” I said. “He would never hurt me.” And I knew he wouldn’t, trusted that knowledge in a way that I had trusted little else in my life.

Esther stayed silent, her lips puckered into a tight grimace, and I knew what she was thinking before she even said it. “I’m smarter now. He is…what he is. But I’m safer with him than I’ve ever been with anyone else.”

She looked unconvinced. “Come stay with me. Try something different,” Esther said, eyes imploring.

I didn’t entertain the thought, not even for a moment. Couldn’t entertain the thought of not being with him.

“I’m where I belong. With whom I belong.”

And I knew it to be true. It didn’t make sense, but it didn’t have to. I was where I wanted to be. I could see Esther struggle, knew that she wanted to argue, to try to persuade me. The girl I’d known all those years ago wouldn’t have held her tongue. But she did. And that made me wonder what other changes I’d missed. I planned to find out.

“One phone call, that’s all it will take, Fawn,” she said, pulling herself to her full height and crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’re gonna come in commando-style, rescue me?”

“More like nag-or-insult-the-big-scary-men-until-they-give-me-what-I-want style, but you get the idea,” she responded.

I laughed. “I appreciate it, but I’m not a damsel in distress. I don’t need anyone to rescue me. But I want you back in my life. I miss my best friend,” I said.

If I didn’t know better, I would have thought there was a tear in my friend’s eye, but if so, she recovered quickly and flashed me a bright smile.

“You won’t be able to get rid of me,” she said.

“I didn’t think so, but I’ll make sure to keep you away from Sorin,” I said.

“Who? The dude at the door?” she asked incredulously.

“Yeah. The huge, kind of crazy Romanian dude you were barking at. You’re nuts, standing up to him like that.”

“I’m perfectly sane, and I was confident I could handle him if necessary,” Esther said, voice brimming with unshakable confidence. “But in the spirit of reunification, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. You gonna drop by this weekend?”

“I’d love to,” I said.

Nineteen

V
asile

Two Months Later


A
re we done here
?” I asked.

Priest nodded, and I stood, ready to leave.

“You aren’t hanging out tonight?” Sorin said.

I shook my head, and he frowned. “Going to play house? Again.”

“Careful, brother,” I said, letting a warning edge bleed into my voice.

“Suit yourself,” he replied, and then he turned and headed behind the closed doors to Priest’s inner sanctum.

I left without looking back, but while my steps carried sure and true to my destination, my mind urged me to slow down. Not that I paid it any attention or could have stopped myself even if I had. The urgent, clawing need I felt whenever I was away from Fawn ripped at me, and I knew it wouldn’t subside until I saw her again, held her body against mine so close that nothing else mattered.

She did that to me, made me think and feel things I hadn’t ever, made me more than clan and at the same time less. Made me a man, one who had become addicted to a woman. This ruse would have to stop at some point. She’d want her life, a chance to be away from me, away from memories of the monster I’d taken her from.

But until then, when she finally came to her senses, I’d take as much of her as I could.

I’d gotten her settled at my father’s estate. He’d acquired it from a prominent family that owed him, and he’d been so proud of it, the huge house and exclusive address proof to himself that he’d finally made it. He hadn’t enjoyed it long though, dying less than two years after he’d gotten it. But in just weeks, Fawn had managed to make it feel like a home.

Our home.

When I arrived and entered, I heard her in the kitchen, and as I came to her, she smiled at me, her eyes going soft. “Vasile, I…”

I cut her off with a hard kiss, covering her lips with mine and then swooping my tongue inside her mouth. I kissed her with everything I had, trying to give physical form to emotions I couldn’t name, feelings that went beyond words.

And when I pulled back and stared down at her, her lips wet and swollen from my kisses, her brown eyes wide and lit with that unrestrained passion I could never get enough of, I lost control.

Hands on her shoulders, I turned her so that she was face-first against the kitchen island. “Oh!” she said when I lifted the long T-shirt she wore and revealed the smooth expanse of her back and the plush curves of her ass, the thin little scrap of her thong peeking from between her cheeks.

“Did you wear this for me?” I asked as I hooked one finger, then another under the string.

I got closer and exhaled, watching as goose bumps rose across her skin. I kissed the padded point of her shoulder blade and then chuckled low when a full-body shiver thrashed through her.

“Did you, Fawn?” I asked as I pulled the panties down her thighs.

She opened automatically and I lowered them until they dropped around her ankles.

“Y-yes,” she said quietly, her voice breaking as I stroked my fingers over her full hip and then over her thigh.

“Nice,” I said, but that didn’t get to half the matter. She’d told me how much she disliked being on display, so that she’d worn such a garment for me sent my desire sparking and my heart seizing with a feeling I didn’t yet dare give name to.

“Vasile…” she said on a broken moan when I traced her smooth mound and then went lower to delve between her slick, plump lips.

“What?” I whispered as I lazily stroked a finger against her soft skin, my already titanium-hard dick firming even more at the wetness that greeted my finger.

“Someone might see,” she said.

“Then let them see,” I said. “Would you like that, knowing they are watching me fuck you, knowing they are jealous because they can’t have you, will never taste your sweet pussy, feel you clamping around them?”

“Umm…” she mumbled.

The words were unintelligible, but her body told the tale. Her clit was hard and throbbing against my fingers, her sex wet and getting wetter every second.

As I toyed with her, I fumbled with my belt, anxious to again feel her around me, to finally be at peace. My cock sprang free when I lowered my pants, practically straining toward her, already slick with precum. She reached back, but before she touched me, I grabbed her arm.

“No,” I said sharply, punctuating the statement with a quick little slap to her ass.

She moaned low in her throat and arched back toward me, seeking more. I almost came on the spot, the sight of Fawn’s face twisted in pleasure, her eyes shut tight, sparking another burst of warmth in my chest.

“Hands in front,” I said and without hesitation, she complied. “Good.”

And then I went quiet, kissing my way down the skin of her back, the little tremors that racked through her making me smile.

“Ahh,” she moaned out when I reached the curve of her hip.

I went lower, kissing and licking the little indentation at the base of her spine. Then lower, tracing her crevice between her full cheeks. I stopped when I reached her rosette and swirled the tight hole. Fawn went rigid, and I glanced up, feeling a deep sense of pride when I saw how tightly she gripped the countertop, the edges of her knuckles turning white with the strength of her hold.

Swipe after swipe, I licked at her hole and then pushed my tongue in, spreading her open bit by bit. And as I worked at her back hole with my tongue, I worked her front with my fingers, plucking at her clit and then dipping into her cunt. The low, guttural cries that spilled from her throat emboldened me, and I increased my pace, licking and stroking her with an urgency that made my movements jerky.

“Please…” she said on a low moan when I pulled away.

I breathed deep, heart thundering, my chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, my cock hard enough to hammer steel. Squared behind her, I closed the distance between our bodies and pushed my rod between her lips, moaning myself at the first touch of her petal-soft skin against my shaft.

“Please what, Fawn?” I whispered, the volume of my voice completely at odds with the need that rode at me. “You want me to fuck you?” I asked, pushing against her, the friction setting off a wave of pleasure that tugged at my gut.

“Yes,” she said.

“Yes, what?” I asked, holding still though ever fiber of my being demanded I slam into her.

“Please fuck me,” she said.

“Where? Here?” I grabbed the base of my cock and ran my cockhead along her lips before I used it to spread them and pushed up until I was barely breaching her entry. “Or here?”

I thrust against her until my cock was coated with her cream and then pulled back and aimed at her back hole. She stood straighter, and the movement pulled me inside her just a few centimeters, but enough I could feel the hot heat of her tunnel, the delicate pulse of her hole as she closed around me.

My heart stuttered, and I grabbed her generous hip, needing something to hold.

“Wherever you want,” she said. “I’m yours.”

Before the words had fully fallen from her lips, I thrust gently, giving her a tiny bit more before I met resistance. The angel on my shoulder told me to stop, reminded me Fawn was gentle, wasn’t ready for this, that she probably never would be.

But the devil on the other shoulder, the one that wanted to possess all of her, demanded I take her, bury my cock as deep inside her as it would go.

That angel had made few appearances in my life, had been listened to even less, and I didn’t plan to change that tonight.

I thrust harder this time, groaning when her tight passage gave way. Both of my hands were anchored on her waist, my hold so strong that some faint part of me wondered if I’d leave bruises. But I couldn’t loosen my grip, too afraid the urge to slam into her would take over.

So I held her tight and filled her slowly, inch by inch, until I was balls-deep inside her.

“Fawn…” I trailed off and slammed my eyes shut, hardly able to think let alone speak when I was deep inside her, her channel pulsing around me. She shifted experimentally, and I bucked in response, the reverberation of pleasure making me grip her even tighter.

“Move. Please move,” she cried, voice low.

“Anything for you,” I bit out through gritted teeth, rocking against her with slow, shallow strokes, not quite able to believe, but happy beyond belief she was so passionately responding to me taking her this way.

When my fingers found her clit and I strummed at the hard bud, she jerked around me, and that little movement broke the dam. I thrust harder and then harder, all the while playing with her clit. As I continued to pump into her, I moved my hand down and pushed one finger, then another into her pussy, and both of us cried out at the new sensation of my cock filling one hole, my fingers in the other, a thin membrane of tissue the only thing separating the two.

I retreated and returned over and over and over again, my finger in her pussy moving in time with my cock in her ass, her throaty moans mingling with my own, her curvy body trembling beautifully with each stroke, and I again marveled at how perfectly she fit me, how right it felt to have her under me, to be inside her.

And then she clenched down around me, her womb fluttering against my fingers, her ass gripped down tight on my rod. I stilled, held her as she rode out the wave of her orgasm. When she calmed, I began again, moving inside her in hard, deep thrusts that soon had her panting. As I moved, her hole loosened but still held me in a glove-tight hold that made me see stars.

The low churn that had filled my stomach boiled over, and on a final thrust, I stilled and let the pleasure take me, jet after jet of cum pouring out of me and deep inside her. I snaked my arms around her waist and put my head on her back, lying against her soft body as the most intense pleasure—body and soul—I’d ever felt overtook me.

F
awn

The next morning
I lay in his—our—ridiculously huge bed. This was one of the rare mornings that he was with me. He was usually gone before I rose and had never slept longer than me in all the nights we’d been together. In fact, I didn’t know if I could ever recall him sleeping, but he did so now.

I drank him in greedily, sleep giving the usually harsh shadows of his features a softness that was uncommon.

He looked at peace.

The desire to touch him, push soft hair away from his forehead, trace my fingers along his stubbled jaw almost overcame me. But I resisted, wanted to see him at peace as much as I could.

I didn’t have too long though because I could sense the very instant he woke. His eyes popped open, slightly soft from sleep but completely alert, and his gaze swept to mine.

Then he looked down to my nipples, which pebbled at his first glance. And for once, the desire to hide wasn’t there. Only the desire to have him see me. His gaze swept lower, but when it landed on my hips, his eyes went cold, hard with displeasure.

He reached out, sculpted gentle fingertips over the mottled finger marks. His brows flattened and he pulled his lips into a thin line, jaw working from the way he clinched his teeth.

“I hurt you,” he said.

I lifted my hand and smoothed the tips of my fingers atop his, touching him as gently as he touched me. He looked up, gaze clashing with mine.

“I like them,” I said softly.

He lifted a brow, unspoken question clear.

“They’re from you. And not because you hurt me, but because you wanted me. So every time I see them, touch them, I can remember how that felt.”

I smiled at him, but his expression didn’t change. Instead, he rose up on his elbow and then moved until he loomed over me, the wide breadth of his shoulders blocking the sunlight.

But I wasn’t afraid, hadn’t really been since that first day. I knew the power of his body, knew the gentleness with which he touched me, knew that he wouldn’t hurt me even though he was more than able. And I felt safe with him huge and powerful over me.

He shifted until his hands were on either side of my head, knees between mine.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he found my center unerringly, moving inside of me with one solid stroke.

Air expelled from my lungs, and the sensation of having him inside me, all around me, sparked a sense of passion and calm that was as disconcerting and addictive as the man who created it.

His hardness pulsed inside me, and I clamped my walls around him and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath. I did it again and again, tightening and releasing around his cock as I trailed my fingers across his arms and chest, lingering on the tattoos for a moment before I moved my hands up and swiped my thumb across his strong jaw, the shell of his ear, before I locked my fingers at the base of his neck much as I had wrapped my ankles around his waist.

I kept my gaze on his, begging him without words, hoping that at least for a while he could see what I saw, know that I trusted him completely. My eyes drifted shut when he moved and pushed himself inside me, gentle at first and then with increasing speed and urgency. When his lips covered mine, I opened automatically and he speared his tongue inside my mouth as he speared his cock inside my pussy. I breathed out harsh breaths, but no sound left my mouth, all caught by him the same as I caught his own deep exhales and low-voiced moans.

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