Wrath (Malice Mafia, #2)

by Coralee June

But oddly enough, my humanity died when I fell in love. It was the price I had to pay for selling my soul to three monsters.

Anthony, Nick, and William still fought over me, but Nick? Nick claimed me. He destroyed the competition.

If Juliet needed a break, then she could take a fucking vacation on my cock.

“You’re out. Done. If I see you in my territory again—” “You’re kicking me out?” There was a sobriety in his tone that hadn’t been there for weeks. Good. Let it fucking sink in. “If I see you in Kansas City, I’ll put a bullet through your brain.”

“I don’t want to see you in this town ever again,” I said before spinning around and walking away from the brother I loved most. Never again. My priorities weren’t with him anymore. No, my girl. MY GIRL needed a savior, and that’s what I’d fucking be. She wasn’t strong enough to push him away, but I was.

“You think I don’t know every hair on your head? The color of your skin when it bruises? The fear in your eyes? The way you tremble when you’re scared? I know every fucking nuance of your body, Juliet. I know your mind. In fact, I’ve crawled inside every fucking crack in your soul and built a home for myself there. Not only did you lie to me, but you insulted our relationship by pretending I couldn’t see how much you’re suffering right now.”

Money was just another word for power. The powerless scream. Wealth whispers.

“You’ll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands before I let you have her all to yourself.”

“You are better than any fantasy, Little Fighter. I love exploring your body. My body. Every inch of you is mine.”

“I love the way you sound when I touch you, Little Fighter.”

Seeing his lips slowly wrap around his index finger and suck my juices had my eyes feeling heavy. I wanted to strip him out of his suit and fuck him.

And with those parting words, he spun around, grabbed my cart, and strolled toward the checkout counter like he didn’t just finger fuck me on aisle nine.

Malice and I had become pen pals. Except we weren’t writing letters, we were just mailing a necklace back and forth. Every night, I’d drop it off in his mailbox, and every morning, it would be back in mine.

“Don’t take that necklace off, Juliet. I won’t tell you again.”

It was frustrating to feel out of control of my own needs, body, and mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I couldn’t stop aching for her. I couldn’t stop desiring her.

I was pussy-whipped. My dick wanted to live inside of her. It was a needy bastard desperate to have her in my heart, head, and bed.

But despite his jealousy, his moody behavior, and selfishness, I loved him. I just didn’t know how we’d ever meet in the middle.

“I love them all. I just need them to love me back the way I deserve.”

Gentle, gentle, gentle. In and out. In and out. I was going to do better. I was going to be better. I was going to be worthy of this beautiful woman I didn’t deserve.

Vicky was a motherfucking liar. Anthony was a dead man. William was about as useful as wet tissue paper, and my ass? My pathetic ass was pussy-whipped.

“I’m gonna work hard to be worthy of you,” he then said.

“If you want to know about my past, I’ll tell you. If you want space from me, I’ll give it to you. If you want to forgive me, I would struggle with feeling worthy of your forgiveness, but I would graciously accept it. Watching you teach my brothers how to love you made me realize that I want to learn how to be your friend.”