Captive Bride (The Dirty Kings of Vegas)

He closes his mouth, listens.

“When I became my father’s consigliere, I had no special understanding of business or the law, and I didn’t know the personalities in the rival gangs. My expertise was different. Papa talked to me because he knew he could trust me above anyone. That’s what he lost when they took Dooley from him. He didn’t think there was anyone else. I was too young for the responsibility he gave me, but I took it seriously.”

He frowns. “Are you still his consigliere? You can’t be, can you? You couldn’t be this far away from him.”

“No, John, I’m not. Papa was happy with that arrangement, and I was happy. What little girl doesn’t want to share her papa’s deepest secrets? But he wanted me to be free and to have my own life. The point is, John, I know how these things work. You don’t have to bottle your feelings up. You don’t have to hide and sulk when you’ve had a tough day. If you want to lock yourself in a room with a bottle, or go to a club and tear it up with your guys, it’s all right. But you don’t have to be alone, and you don’t need to shut me out. Sometimes just knowing that can be enough.”

I see his shoulders relax.

“One day, you’ll be the head of the whole family. I’m sure you hope that day is a long way off. But John, you always need to be ready. And you need someone you can talk with. Someone you can trust absolutely and without question.” I lean forward. Stroke his brow. “You might need a confidant to help you shine a light on all that goes on. Whenever you need the ear of someone you can trust absolutely, I’m here.”

He tightens up.

“What’s wrong?” I ask him.

“It’s nothing.” He’s gripping his hip, though.

“Show me? Do you need a doctor?”

“Nothing to see. It’s going to be fine.”

I don’t press him for more because, honestly, I think I’ve already said more than enough.

He spends most of the evening on the deck with his laptop. When I finally give up hoping he will come looking for me, I take a sip of Scotch. I’m getting a taste for it now. I call out from the living room.

“I’m going up to bed now.”

When he doesn’t reply, I toss the rest of the Scotch back. Then I splash some more in the tumbler to take upstairs with me.

I turn, and he’s there. Huge, behind me. I gasp.

His voice is a dark rumble. “Not just yet.”

“Oh.”

He takes a savage kiss. I can’t resist. I love his force and his strength so much.

He spins me around. Bends me over the couch. Slides his hand up my thigh and into my already wet panties.

“Mine,” he growls as he teases my clit and opens my pussy.

Then I shout as his shaft splits me open. Inside, I cascade and gush, trembling as he drives me, rides me. He rips into me with a force like a hurricane. I grip the couch and shout his name. My insides spin and implode, rising like a slow, heavy wave, hanging on a crest, suspended. He beats into me harder and I splash, shaking, quivering and whimpering his name.

His pole slams into me, relentless and merciless, stretching me wider. My walls flutter, trying to hold him as he buries his cock high and deep. His balls slap against my clit and my mound.

I come again and again as he grips my hips and slaps my ass and he pumps his hot juice into me.

We’re both breathing hard. He stays inside me for too short a moment.

“I really love you, John,” I tell him.

I can’t hear his reply. It’s lost in a grunt. I can see that he’s in discomfort but before I can speak, he snarls, “I’m fine,” and he goes back out to the pool.

Chapter Eight

John

It’s a hot morning. I’m waiting in the study of the main house in the center of the compound. Drago is due for a meet.

This was my home until I married Kiera. Only Dad lives here now that all three brothers are married. The place feels quiet and slightly unreal. The ache in my gut comes and goes. I was too grumpy when Kiera said I should see a doctor. She cares about me, I know, but I hate any kind of a fuss. I step out of the office to get a coffee from the kitchen.

Kiera is walking in the front door. What is she doing here?

As soon as our eyes meet, she hurries into my arms, innocent and bouncy as ever. I can’t be annoyed with her.

She kisses me. She says, “Your father told me about the library, so I came to find some books.”

“I’m just waiting for a meet.” I don’t want to let her go.