Page 22 of Deviant Knight

“Both of you.”

He releases my neck, and I take the opportunity to suck in air. He, of course, uses that as his opening and jerks himself forward, forcing his dick between my lips. It takes more strength than it should to keep my elbows braced on the floor.

“Now fucking suck,” he says through a strained expression like if I don’t suck him off, he will lose every ounce of wits about him.

Closing my lips around his thick shaft, he pushes forward, going down my throat as far as he can and then pulls back. Racing forward again, he finds a fast pace as he leans on me, pumping in and out of my mouth.

“Shit. Fuck. Jesus, that’s,” he trails off, panting. My hands reach the back of his knees and yank him forward, quickly pulling more of his dick into my mouth. One of his hands finds the back of my neck and squeezes. It helps stabilize my head in the awkward position he forced me into.

I suck while he pistons in and out of my mouth, his dick tasting every bit the way I like it; like it’s mine, and he belongs to me, even if he doesn’t. Though he’s not hers yet either, and for some strange reason, my jealousy doesn’t spark when thinking about them together. I’ve pictured it a lot. Every time I do, my dick hardens, like now—it’s a solid fucking rock.

Domenico isn’t the only one affected by two beings. They both get me hard too.

He grunts a second before his pace slows, followed by spurts of hot liquid going down my throat as Dom unloads himself. While the last drop drips out, I apply a slight bit of pressure with my teeth as he pulls his dick from my mouth.

As he sits back, resting his ass on my stomach, I lick my lips and glance up, seeing dark, soul-penetrating eyes, silently scything things I can’t or don’t want to decipher, at least not in this lifetime. Maybe in the next, but even I’m not sure I believe in that shit.

All I do know for sure is that we’re going to come crashing down at some point sooner or later. Dom has to realize that too. Maybe that’s what those goddamn eyes are trying to say back to me.

This is coming to an end, motherfucker. It has to.

CHAPTER 13

DOMENICO

Ihadn’t realized how on edge I was until I walked inside the private showroom at Headliner’s, my brother’s strip club, and saw Krishna standing in front of the one-way viewing window. His arms were crossed, and his posture gave away the boredom coursing through him as he watched the stripper with her thin thighs wrapped around the pole.

It started when I walked into that exam room at the Women’s Clinic to find Ciera with a look plastered on her face that told me she didn’t like whatever it was she and the doctor were talking about.

I knew she had a physical exam and lab work, so of course, my thoughts went to those results not coming back clean. As I was checking her out, I texted my father, demanding he sends me the results the minute he got them.

After I dropped her off at the bridal shop, he still hadn’t responded, so I hacked into her account for the clinic’s electronic medical record system to view them myself.

Ciera had a complete STD workup as well as regular wellness labs. She was clean, and that was a relief.

I may not want her for a real wife, nor do I plan to stick a baby in her womb, but I sure as fuck want to stick something else inside her hot body. It would have been a disappointment to find out the only silver lining to the sham of a wedding I’m being forced to partake in wouldn’t happen.

I’ve wanted to fuck her since I first laid eyes on her in New Orleans, and now that I know she’s clean, I’m not so sure I can wait until the “I do’s” are said.

Krishna took the edge off when I forced my dick down his throat, making him suck me off just the way I like it: fast and rough.

Now that my head is clear and I’m back in the right state of mind, I remember the doctor’s note in Ciera’s chart. The physician listed scarring around her anus similar to assault victims.

That doesn’t sit well with me. If she likes rough sex and being fucked in the ass, that’s one thing, but if the doctor’s theory is correct, then it’s something that has to be dealt with. Fake marriage or not, if someone raped her, then their death is already sealed.

After I left the strip club, I went to New Jersey to meet one of our captains to check on him and his crew and ensure things are running as they should be.

Thomas Barone is a little older than my father. His son, Bennett, and my sister have known each other for years. They attended the same school even after Thomas asked my father if he could move out of the city and over to Jersey. Dad approved the move. We had enough eyes in the city and thought having someone across the bridge wasn’t a bad idea.

I got home forty-five minutes ago, showered, and was going to turn on a movie to fall asleep when I glanced out my open window and saw the lights on inside the pool house. It’s after midnight, and after not getting any answers out of Ciera earlier about her night terrors, I dropped the remote on the nightstand and padded barefoot out the back door.

I don’t bother knocking. Perhaps it’s rude and even an invasion of Giovanni’s privacy, but do I give one fuck? No. I don’t trust him. Not yet anyway. He doesn’t get to show up out of the blue and be appointed the third highest ranking position in this family without earning that spot. A spot that should be my sister’s, not his.

I do, however, trust my father, so for that reason alone, I haven’t put a bullet in his head. They should both be thanking me.

When I walk in, I find them both laughing with drinks in their hands. Dad is in the leather reclining chair while Giovanni is leaning his back against the plush couch on the side closest to my father. Their eyes snap to mine and their conversation stops.

“Why does Ciera have night terrors?” I direct my question to Giovanni. He’s the one that stated what was happening to her when I found him about to slap her last night. Never in my life have I wanted to end another person’s life more than I did when I stepped into her bedroom nearly twenty-four hours ago, and I’ve spent well over half my life wanting to end the life of the person that stole my mother’s life.

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