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“Goddamn,” Domenico says, his fingers fisting tighter around the strands of Krishna’s hair while the vise grip he has on my knees intensifies in a bruising manner. Watching him come is fascinating for some reason I don’t understand.
When Krishna pulls his lips off Domenico, my soon-to-be husband falls back in the position he was originally in when I woke up, then he turns, facing me. His lips brush the shell of my ear as a flood of liquid coats my center. Domenico’s right hand finds my throat, his warm fingers wrapping back around it in a resting state more so than a choking one.
As if knowing what he wants me to do, I run my fingers through his cum and then push them back inside me. I repeat the process, pulling my fingers out and running them through the liquid Krishna released from his mouth and onto me, then I push two fingers back inside, pulling Domenico’s cum in with them the same as I did Krishna’s.
“I’d sell my soul to the devil to put my tongue on your pussy,” Domenico whispers against my ear.
I don’t know if it was the sound of his voice, the image his words conjured up in my head, or the fact that I now have a part of them both inside me, but it sends me over the edge again as another orgasm rips through every limb attached to my body, only harder this time around.
Releasing his hold on my throat, Domenico watches me as Krishna falls back down beside me on my other side. His hand glides up and down my inner thigh in the most soothing and sensual way, while Domenico’s hand skims down my body until he finds my wrist and wraps his heated fingers around it. Tugging, he pulls my fingers out of me and brings them to his mouth, then he inserts two of them, sucking them clean.
It’s mesmerizing, but it would be ignorant on my part to imagine what happened this morning ever being a reality in the future. It’s not. At the end of the day, I’m a means to the end of a feud between our fathers, our families. My blood will shed the same as Cormac Fitzgerald’s, whether I’m guilty of anything or not. That I have no doubt about.
My time is numbered, the same as my father’s.
The question is, when will that time come?
CHAPTER 15
DOMENICO
Ihave no idea what possessed me to ensure Ciera received a proper orgasm two days ago. When I woke to find Krishna watching her while she was rubbing herself between her legs, I got so fucking hard I couldn’t think straight. When she admitted to being unable to get herself off, I couldn’t get out of my bed until I made sure that happened.
She gave herself two orgasms, and for whatever reason, I was proud of her. I should be proud of myself too because it took every ounce of strength I had not to beg her to let me slidemyfingers inside her pussy instead of her own. When I tasted her, it was the most divine thing I’ve ever experienced on my tongue.
If I’m not careful, my need for her will match the need I have for Krishna, and that cannot happen. I’ve already let him and me get out of control, and now I have to find a way to pull the reins back on him while I park the brakes on Ciera. They’re both fucking up my head.
She’s slept in my bed the previous two nights like the two nights before them, as has Krishna, but nothing deviant has taken place between the three of us. I’d like to say that was my intent, but Wednesday morning, she crawled out of bed and was out of my bedroom before I realized she wasn’t going to the bathroom.
Then this morning I received a notification at four a.m. that someone was breaking into our warehouse, so it was me that ditched her. I woke Krishna and then dragged Ren out of bed, making them both accompany me to check it out.
Just because someone can break in doesn’t mean they can break out, and that’s exactly what Fitzgerald’s junkie thug found out. He wasn’t the only man we discovered when we arrived either. I knew there were two of them from viewing the camera footage while Ren drove.
After I put a bullet between the meth head’s eyes, K carted him off in the SUV they arrived in. Krishna will park it somewhere close to Fitzgerald’s pub in the city. I want them to find the remains. I want them to know who did it. I want them to see what happens when you fuck with a Caputo.
The other shit-for-brains was a surprise. When I saw it was Rico the Rat, I made a call I hadn’t planned to make this morning. It’s no secret that Fredrico Romano was the one responsible for Giovanni being sent to prison. I may not like Matteo’s uncle, but he’s still one of us, and that means something to me.
When I killed Levi King a few months ago, he told me Rico was working for Killian Fitzgerald, Cormac’s son. Ciera’s brother may only be seventeen, but he’s no kid to the ways of a Fitzgerald. I want to know what all he’s involved in, the same as I do their father.
Dad wants to end Cormac’s reign over the city we once called home, and mark my words, we will call it home again if I have anything to do about it. But where Dad wants to take Fitzgerald out, I want to see him suffer first. Maybe Dad thinks that is what he’s doing with Ciera, but I don’t believe Cormac gives two shits about his daughter. He shipped her off to live in Ireland, after all. He might as well have thrown her away.
I want to take everything from him first, and as soon as I figure out how to access his finances, I’ll do just that. Cormac is harder to hack than the police commissioner’s bank records, and I’m a bit curious as to why that is when Owen Donovan is connected to a man feared more than even my father is.
Liam O’Donovan, the man Ciera lived with most of her life, is also someone I need to learn more about, but that will have to wait until Cormac and the rest of his merry little gang are exterminated. When that happens, there is no doubt in my mind that I’ll capture not only Owen’s attention but his brother’s as well.
Perhaps I can use Ciera to find out more about Liam because if my instincts serve me right, and they always do, he’s going to become a problem faster than I think my father realizes. There has to be a reason Ciera was sent back to The States, and I doubt it had anything to do with Cormac wanting his daughter home. He’s sold her off twice since she returned.
The sound of expensive shoes tapping on the concrete floor behind me pulls my focus away from my thoughts. I heard Giovanni’s SUV pull up less than a minute ago, and judging by his fast-paced walk, he’s in too much of a hurry to confront Rico.
“Why is there a knife protruding from his leg?” Giovanni asks as he stops next to me, his tone laced with irritation much like my father’s when one of his kids does something that displeases him.
“It was an accident,” Ren lies, the laugh on his tongue palpable. “Slipped out of my sleeve and landed in his leg.”
“Looks deep,” Giovani deadpans, knowing fully that my brother did this on purpose.
Ren wasn’t happy about untangling himself from around his pregnant wife before dawn. Stabbing Rico was his way of flushing out his anger. Giovanni’s lucky he didn’t pull the knife out and stab him again.
Rico’s eyes grow wide just before he pulls against the rope binding his arms and legs to the metal chair he’s seated in before us. The way I looped the rope, he only tightens it more with every jerk he makes.
