And she’s so fucking fertile, it makes me frenzied. I’ll keep her pregnant, and it’ll be easy. She’ll carry my heirs. She’ll make me a better man…Christ.I’ve seen it. She’ll keep me grounded. Open for my family. Empathetic and mindful of my brothers when in the past I wasn’t—
My awareness drifts to their confessions, to the reasons Max closed off, Bronson lost his mind, and Xander hides his.
Butch failed them.
I failed them!
My focus on theCosa Nostra, on Jimmy Storm, on being the heir, is my downfall as a brother. It laid the path that kept us divided. I regret my father’s ignorance, but I can’t blame him for his passion. Not now that I understand it.
Dual-coloured eyes flash at me through the window, and I drop the half-smoked cigar to the ground, preferring her scent to that of my long-term addiction.
The ember smudges the pavers as I step on it and walk inside, twitching to be closer to my reason to breathe. She is my reality now. After the truths from my brothers, the concept of my present, of my past, being riddled with these secrets, she is the constant. The thing I use to ground myself.
She smiles at me, her long blonde hair cascading down her shoulders like a golden stream, and I drop to my knees in front of her, pressing my forehead to her chest.
She holds me to her, and I sigh. “Tell me, sweet girl. Does what my brothers told us today make you uneasy?”
“Of course.”
I hum, displeasure in my very veins over that. “Does it scare you? Does her presence scare you, little deer?”
“I don’t want her anywhere near us,” she says quietly, and her honesty stokes the displeasure to a burn.
I don’t like that. “You need to go to bed, sweet girl,” I state, my voice rough in that order.
She cups the back of my neck, and I roll my face against her little breasts. The supple flesh moulds around me, earning her a groan for her perfection. I’m so damn enamoured, so utterly raw with her, so unnaturally protective, it aches and bleeds. It cuts in through layers and spills violent thoughts.
Love is—Christ.It is heart thrashing, fists clenching, muscles taut and ready. It is fight mode.
“Go to bed,” I state curtly, knowing what I must do now. “Stay in bed. I’m going to have a whiskey with my mother tonight.”
“I could come with—”
“Absolutely not. Believe me, the last thing I want is to be even an inch away from you. If I could, sweet girl, I would exist only when with you,”—I slide my palms up her slim legs and thighs and cover her abdomen from hip to hip with protective hands— “And him. One day, I will exist only for you and what you make for me… but I have to ask—"
“Questions.”
“Yes.”I close my eyes, holding them pressed together with my forehead against her chest. Her nipples pebble beneath her shirt, and my cock responds. I mouth them softly, and her fingers tighten in my hair as she moans. “For my little deer who told me to do so,” I say against her flesh. “And for my brothers.” I continue to roll my face against her. “And I won’t bring you into any stressful situations. Nothing but comfort for you, little deer.” Imagining her defying me again, escaping, picturing her rushing across the parking lot with my baby inside her, her nervousness about being around my mother, I growl.Fuck.“Don’t push me now. You will do as you’re told or drive me to the edge of insanity. I won’t handle you defying me. I won’t— Do. As. You’re. Told.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I open my eyes and lift my head to meet a vibrant green and a cloudy blue iris staring at me. Uncertain but not afraid.
She sees me.
Raising one hand, I stroke downward from her brows, forcing her eyes closed with my fingertips, needing to touch her enchanting gaze. “I worship you,” I say, still on my knees for her; it’s almost a goddamn prayer position.
As I rise to my full height, she cranes her neck to keep eye contact, a hint of worry coasting across her pretty face. It stirs me further. Knowing she’s uncomfortable, awakening evil that reaps for her. Her alone. Fixing things.
I lean down to take her lips, forcing moans of enjoyment through them that I claim as my own, suck into my mouth. She gasps for air around my tongue.
Breaking our kiss, I nod at the stairs, then watch intensely as her beautiful body turns and climbs them—
Fuck.
I have to move us to the first floor.
She disappears, and I clench my teeth within a smooth smile when I no longer have my eyes on her. The volatility is there, simmering.