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For that, Liam won’t get a quick death. Her brother didn’t deserve one either, but it’s not like I can bring him back to life just so I can take my time with his tainted soul.
I’ll admit, I didn’t understand Tony’s need to draw out his revenge against his father for taking the love of his life. Ciera isn’t even dead, and she’s also a hell of a lot stronger than I fully realized, yet I want to inflict so much goddamn pain on each and every person that’s ever hurt Ciera, and she isn’t even my wife.
I saw the same look mirrored in Dom’s eyes. After Ciera had come and had owned our bodies like we were made just for her pleasure, I saw the need for retribution shining back at me from Domenico’s dark brown eyes.
I saw more, but I don’t know what to do with that information. So, like everything else with Dom that gets too heavy, I shoved it to the farthest recesses in the back of my mind that it could go until we make things right for Ciera.
That was last night. By the time we got back, everyone else was asleep, and the house was quiet. I put Ciera to bed while Dom started making plans without consulting anyone else.
He wants to make a statement to the police commissioner and Liam O’Donovan—if the Irish boss is still in the country. Dom is having all five of Cormac’s properties in the city gutted and redesigned. He was on the phone with an attorney late last night to start the probate paperwork to get anything that remains in Fitzgerald’s name signed over to Ciera.
I hadn’t expected the bomb she dropped last night that Killian wasn’t Cormac’s son. Not that it mattered, he still had to die for Ciera to own her father’s assets legally. There could have been a will, but there was no point in taking that chance. I just hadn’t expected Ciera to shoot her brother without being ordered to do so.
I knew what Dom had planned. I even agreed with him.
No matter how either of us felt about her, she had to prove she was on our side.
Her pussy is so good she could make a man shoot himself in the back if she wanted to. Not counting our encounter with her in New Orleans two months ago, she’s been in our lives less than two weeks and already holds more power over us than I ever thought possible of another person.
I’m man enough to see the truth for what it is, not sure if Domenico is.
“Be warned,” I say when I hear his footsteps stop behind me. “Your sister is liable to bite your head off or stab you or anyone else in the house with a dick today. Mine too, by the way.”
A soft, humor-filled chuckle leaves his lips while I lift the glass of vodka in my right hand and take a sip. I’m staring out the open French doors that lead to a balcony inside my bedroom at my parent’s house. It’s a genuine laugh and the first I’ve heard from him since his father’s death. It eases some of the tension in my chest, but I can’t tell him that.
“You tell them they aren’t allowed to leave the house alone without the dogs?”
“Yep.”
I turn to face him. He was gone when I got out of bed this morning. Needing something to do, I spent several hours in the gym here on the property. I showered before I poured a glass of vodka, but I only bothered to put on slacks and a shirt. I haven’t even buttoned the dress shirt, so it still hangs open.
His eyes quickly leave mine, roaming down my chest, which only makes my dick jump at the praising Dom’s dark gaze is doing. Scanning his way back up, the heat in his eyes tells me what he wants before he opens his mouth.
“I need to hate fuck before I go looking to kill those scum of the earth dickbags before the time is right.”
“The time was right last night. You just want to put on a show for your own amusement first.” Raising my glass, I tip the contents into my mouth and swallow the remaining vodka, draining the glass dry, then I set it on the small table by the open doors.
He steps forward, his hands going for the clasp on my pants while I peel the shirt from my shoulders.
“I want to draw it out,” he bites out, his tone harsh as he pulls the zipper down and then pushes my pants down my legs. “I want to take everything.” I step out of the material when he shoves me toward his right, making my body move, then he walks me backward until the back of my legs touch the foot of the bed.
“I want them to see me do it and not be able to do a damn thing to stop me. I want to strip them of their power.” His hand brushes against my dick through the soft material of my boxer briefs as his eyes stay locked with mine. “I want them to know what it feels like to lose control. To be at someone else’s mercy.”
I swallow hard as his hand cups my junk. He’s aggressive, and he knows that’s exactly what I like. Placing my hands on the covers, I lean back as my thighs part to give him more access.
“I want them to see me watching them on their knees, begging me to stop. I want them to feel every second of pain and know it will not stop.” Moving his palm upward, he dips his fingers inside the waistband, running his long digits and open palm through my pubic hair until he reaches my shaft. With his other hand, he pulls my underwear over my ass and down my legs as his fingers wrap around my cock.
“You’re right, it will be for my amusement, but they don’t deserve anything less than what they’ve done to her.”
Looking down, he produces a six-inch blade from his left hand. He places it to my right on the bed. Then, he lets my dick go, replacing it with his left hand as he pulls another knife from the sleeve of his leather jacket. Once it’s on the bed, he shrugs the leather off his shoulders and down his arms.
“It’s hers to take,” I tell him, half-meaning the words coming from my lips. “Not yours.”
Reaching over his head, he pulls his T-shirt over and off his ripped body. My dick aches without his touch, but I will not tell him that. If he knows me at all, he’ll read it from my eyes, from my body that is on the verge of trembling for him.
“You’re only saying that because you want to get to them before I do.”
Pressing his crotch against mine, I feel how hard his dick is, sending tingles shooting up my spine and into my hairline at the back of my neck. My eyelids shut momentarily until I hear his belt buckle clink together as he unbuckles his belt. His jeans and boxers come down his legs as my hooded eyes open half-mast.
