Devil You Know (The Diavolo Crime Family 2)

But this. This sensation is worth everything. Every sacrifice. Every fight. Every damn minute I spend doubting him.

“Does it feel good?”

I nod because words won’t come out when I’m so close to coming. And I am. My body is already coiling toward the end, and each heavy rut of his cock into me is one step closer.

I wrap my legs around his hips and rock up toward him, getting us more leverage, more sensation.

We are slapping together now, wet sounds breaking up the birdsong on the lawn. His legs shake, and I know he’s going to come soon too.

“Come with me,” I say.

He locks his eyes with mine and drops his forehead on mine, never faltering with his tempo.

“Ready?” he whispers.

I nod, our foreheads rolling together. And then I’m there, breaking apart around him as wave after wave of sheer bliss crashes into me. His cock feels so good as he spears me, holding himself tight into my hips, his knees shaking against my ass.

As I float down from the high, I notice my back is soaked from the grass, and a cramp has taken root in my hip. A laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it.

“Probably not the ideal time to laugh,” he says, staring down into my face, a look of concern etched across his features.

I shake my head. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m just a damn mess, and it was funny how I didn’t even notice until after I came.”

His eyes sparkle as he pulls out of me and tucks himself back into his pants. Then he squats to lift me in his arms. “I’m taking you back to the bedroom.”

I twine my hands around his neck and lean into his chest, all the soft, warm feelings after sex coursing through me. Letting me be comfortable here, right now, in this moment.

“When I leave again, please stay there. If you walk out of this house, and I can’t find you, it’s on you what happens.”

His words detonate inside me, blowing apart the soft warmth, replacing it with fragments. Shrapnel embedding itself in my heart. A warning and a reminder.

11

Nic

Things feel different. But Celia is still holding herself back from me even as I focus my attention on keeping her comfortable and safe.

I stare at the surface of my desk, seeing her bent over the edge as I drive into her. She’s spread her soft thighs and lets me sink inside her. The train of thought dissipates as Soo saunters into my office.

“You seem to avoid me,” I say, with no preamble.

He shrugs and plops into the chair across from me. “You seem to be preoccupied. I’m just trying to stay out of the way while you and Celia get whatever is happening between you settled.”

“She belongs to me.” I observe him, waiting for him to respond.

But I know better. Soo has a better poker face than world series poker tournament winners. “I figured as much by how you have been taking care of her.”

“Do you have any opinion on the change in our circumstances?”

Another shrug as he folds his hands across his stomach. “Nope, you do you. Although if you want her to accept you in full, you might need to make some changes.”

Of course, he knows exactly what I’m dealing with and the reason she refuses to give herself to me fully. “Her and I are going to have to find a middle ground because my immediate plans will not change.”

Instead of addressing that little bomb, he stands and retrieves a bag he set by the door. “Here’s what you asked for. I hope she likes it. And I set your reservations for tonight. Good luck.”

He walks out, and I come around the desk to snag the bag off the floor.

I scribble a note to Celia and drop it on top of the white tissue inside. The dress I bought her the other day I ended up ruining. So, at the very least, I owed her another beautiful piece of fabric. Not to mention I love seeing her wear what I pick out for her. I leave the bag at our bedroom door, knowing if I go inside, I won’t walk out again until after I’ve made her come at least twice.

Even though I’m distracted, I spend the day trying to salvage the remnants of my auction. Contacting clients and smoothing ruffled feathers. When the sun sets, I clean up in my office’s bathroom and head out to the foyer.

She’s standing in a pool of light from the crystal chandelier, and I stop dead in the hallway’s entrance.

In another red dress, floor length with a slit up to her thigh, Celia looks stunning. Her long hair is brushed to a shine, hanging down her back, and she’s painted her lips an enticing shade of red that matches her dress perfectly. She spins when she hears my shoes on the tile.