Charming Killer: A Dark Mafia Romance

I watched him carefully, searching for any hint that his story was less than true, but I found nothing. His father had been scorned by Maeve, and it drove him to anger and violence.

It wasn’t impossible. Maeve was beautiful and charming, or at least that was what everyone said. The woman I knew was a shell of her former self—old and angry and cornered. Sometimes I wondered if I saw my future in her.

“Is that why you did it?” I whispered.

He looked me in the eyes and nodded. “I killed my father because he was an abusive, angry, drunk piece of shit. That’s what you get when you’re brought into the inner circle of an Oligarch family, Erin. It’s all about power and control and violence, and there’s nothing you can do to break the cycle.”

“Except for killing your own father.”

“Except for that.” He looked down at his hands, his big, scarred hands.

I reached out on impulse. I wove my fingers into his and leaned against his shoulder.

He stiffened then put an arm around me and hugged me close.

I felt tears roll again. I cried quietly as he held me. I cried for myself, and for Redmond, but most of all I cried for Neil and all the other Oligarch children that were never given a choice or a chance.

I tilted my chin up and met his gaze. I saw the desire in his eyes, but also the sadness and the anger. I knew how he felt—I wanted to burn down the world for what they did to us.

I leaned forward and he met me halfway.

He kissed me like thunder on a clear morning. He tasted like heaven and I threw myself against him, suddenly wild with need, and wanting to do anything to silence the steady thrum of grief and anger in my skull.

Kissing him was the only thing that helped. As soon as our lips touched, everything was quiet. I could concentrate on this moment, on his tongue and lips, on his hands on my hips as I straddled him and moved my ass against his lap, on the moan that wrenched from my mouth and the growl of delight as I pressed tighter against him, of the soaking want between my legs, of the stiff shaft getting harder and harder beneath my ass—

And him, and Redmond.

His hands moved along my hips and up my lower back. I groaned as he tugged off my shirt. My hair was still damp from the shower and my skin glowed from the manic scrubbing. He kissed my throat, my collarbone, and wrapped his lips and tongue around my nipple. He sucked it, teasing it stiff and I sucked in a shocked breath.

I’d never felt anything like this before. From something so simple—a sucked nipple, lips and tongue—

I arched my back as he moved to the other breast, palming and teasing, his free hand sliding down between my legs.

“Redmond,” I gasped in surprise.

But I didn’t stop him.

His fingers slid down the front of my sweats, down overtop my panties, and began to tease me.

I moaned as the wild sensation of his lips sucking my nipple and his fingers rubbing my soaking pussy sent waves and waves of pleasure along my spine.

I gasped and pulled his hair. He grunted and looked up at me with the purest lust and devotion in his eyes. He looked at me like I was an angel descending from heaven, and I was his salvation, his future, his joy, his everything. I kissed him as he slipped his fingers beneath my panties and began to run his fingertips down my slit, peeling me apart, rolling over my folds to find my clit.

I moaned into his mouth. I moved my hips as he did his incredible work. I gasped, pleasure flooding, overwhelming, drowning. I’d never felt this before, never gotten close. A man, touching me, driving me wild, getting me deeper and deeper—

“Fuck,” I moaned as his fingers slipped inside.

He grunted. “Tight,” he whispered and bit my lip. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

I blushed, deep scarlet. His eyes went wide.

“It’s not like that,” I said quickly. “Don’t fucking stop.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” His fingers slid out and began to message my clit again.

“I’ve done—things. You know. But never.” I arched my back. He licked my nipples again and I purred.

“You’re a virgin.” I heard the heat behind his words.

“Don’t be so surprised. Do you know how many men I’ve been allowed to be alone with in my life?”

“I’m guessing none.”

“None,” I said and pulled his hair.

“That makes me special,” he said and kissed me hard. “I won’t waste this opportunity.”

I yelped as he rolled me back onto the bed and pinned me down. His hand remained between my legs, working faster now. He fucked me gently then did incredible things to my clit as he kissed my lips, my neck, my breasts, my nipples, biting and licking, faster and faster, my back arching, tension building, moans on my tongue until—