Bound by Vengeance (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles, #5)

by Cora Reilly

In fact he didn’t look that different from the other men in the room except for the missing tie, if you took only his outfit into consideration. But the rest of him, God have mercy.

“The Bastard, that’s what most people call him,”

“What’s his real name?”

“I don’t know his real name. Nobody does. People call him ‘Growl’ to his face, and the Bastard behind his back.”

“There’s something wrong with his vocal cords since a horrible accident. That’s why he’s got that big scar.”

It wasn’t only fear that made my heart speed up though; there was something close to excitement too. It was like watching a tiger through the glass of its enclosure and marveling at its power. Only here the only thing keeping him from attack were the social rules even someone like him was bound to.

I averted my eyes, but my pulse kept up its erratic pace afterward. I wasn’t sure when I’d last felt this…alive.

The look on her mother’s face had reminded me why I hated events like this. People didn’t want me around. They wanted me to do their dirty work, and they enjoyed talking shit about me, but they didn’t want me near.

heartbeat. Still, my eyes had sought her out several times that evening. I’d imagined ripping that pretty dress off her body, imagined running my not-worthy hands over her curves. But I’d forced my gaze away and left the ballroom before I could do something very stupid. She was someone I wasn’t meant to have. Someone I shouldn’t even imagine having. She was someone to admire from afar. And it was for the best.

I didn’t need much: money to buy food for my dogs and myself, and for women and a drink now and then. I liked my simple life. I didn’t want complications.

She was mine now. The idea sent a stab of pride through me, and my groin tightened in anticipation. Mine.

I’d never had something to himself, never even dared to dream about owning something so precious. I was the unwanted bastard son who’d always had to content myself with the leftovers of others. And now Falcone had given me what only a few weeks ago had been out of my reach, someone I wasn’t even allowed to admire from afar, one of society’s most prized possessions.

was her punishment, a fate worse than death, a way to deliver the ultimate punishment to her father who had displeased them so greatly.

Cara, a name fit for someone like her, someone too beautiful for a place like this, too beautiful for someone like me. A princess and a monster, that’s what we were.

She couldn’t possibly be mine. She was too perfect, simply too much.

“You can try,” he rumbled. “But I will find you no matter where you go. I will follow you to the end of the world.” “How romantic,” I whispered with false bravado. “You are mine.”

“They won’t hurt you. They are good dogs,” Growl said, waiting for me down the narrow corridor. I wasn’t sure but I thought I heard a hint of amusement in his voice. “They don’t look like good dogs,” I said hesitantly as I crept closer to them. “Don’t judge things by their looks. It’s deceiving.”

His hand cradled the back of my head, keeping me in place and then his mouth came down on mine, his tongue sliding past my lips. I made a sound of protest but it was swallowed by Growl’s mouth. He tasted of coffee, and the hint of toothpaste. His lips were soft, but not his kiss. His tongue claimed my mouth. The kiss was dominant, overwhelming.

I hated him. Hated him for who he was, but worse for what he’d made me feel. For the barest moment I’d allowed myself to drown in the kiss because it managed to make me forget everything, helped me drown out the sadness and fear and worry. And in that short instant, it had felt wondrous and good. So good, that my body had tingled and I’d felt it in my fingertips and toes. Everywhere. It was wrong.

God, so wrong. Like the man in ...

“Don’t touch me,” I hissed. “Ever again.” He smiled humorlessly. “Why?” “Because you repulse me. You are a monster and I don’t want your hands on me, not when they’re covered in blood.”

She hated me. Everyone did. She feared me. Everyone did. I was used to that kind of reaction to myself. I didn’t care.

I knew that Cara wasn’t really a reward for me. That wasn’t why she’d been given to me. Of course, she was a reward, was the greatest gift someone like me could hope for, was more than someone as dark and dirty deserved, but that wasn’t why Falcone had made her my gift. This wasn’t a reward for me, it was a punishment for her and her father. And of course, I was a true punishment. I knew that, and maybe I should have felt revolted, should have felt guilty, should have refused a gift like that, but I wasn’t that kind of man, and that was why Falcone had chosen wisely.

I was the punishment no one deserved, least of all her. But now that I had her, Cara, my gift, I would never let her go. The kiss, it had given me a taste of what was to come, of Cara, and damn, she’d tasted sweet with a hint of bitterness from the coffee. Sweeter than any woman I’d kissed, but there hadn’t been many and my last kiss was a long time ago.

I could take Cara. I wanted her. She was mine. She was mine. But I couldn’t imagine treating her like I treated Lola. Not just because Cara wouldn’t react the way I wanted but also because I didn’t like the idea of treating her that way. She was too precious. She was a present I was reluctant to unwrap.

“Why are there no tables or chairs in your kitchen?” she asked. “And why are there no books?” Why, why, why. Why did she always have to ask questions? I got up from the bench and stretched my arms. Again. That look. Fuck it. I crossed the distance between us and pressed her against the wall. Her squeak of surprise was silenced by my mouth. I plunged my tongue into her mouth, relishing in the fucking sweet taste of her. She shivered against me. That wasn’t only fear. Fuck. She was attracted to me. I knew it. I kissed her harder, fucking tasting every corner of that pure mouth. Her nipples rubbed against my chest through our clothing. I wanted to pinch and suck them. I wanted to eat her pussy, have her juices on my face. I wanted all of her. Her kiss was unpracticed, hesitant, but mine wasn’t. I didn’t give her time to consider, to doubt. I slid my hand below her skirt and pressed my palm against her crotch. Even through her panties and her tights I could feel the heat radiating off her pussy. She tensed but didn’t push me away. I pressed a finger between her folds, rubbing her clit through the fabric, and she moaned into my mouth, then stiffened again. Her wetness was starting to soak her tights, and my cock sprang to life. Fuck. I wanted to take her right here on the porch until she screamed my name.

I didn’t stop running until I’d closed the door to my room behind me. What had I done? What had I let Growl do? God. My heart was pulsating wildly in my chest. I could feel the thud, thud even between my legs. I covered my eyes with my hand and took a deep shuddering breath. I’d never felt this unhinged before. But being driven by instincts, my mind had been blissfully silent. I’d wanted to feel his fingers so desperately, even through the fabric the touch had ignited me. Why did my body do that to me? I hated Growl and yet my body responded to him. He wasn’t poster boy pretty. He was edgy and dark and scarred. And my body wanted him because of it.

I peered inside, and couldn’t believe my eyes. She wasn’t even awake. Her eyes were closed and her breathing too low. I stepped inside as I watched one of her hands move between her legs.

I was tired of resisting when it was so obvious that she wanted me as much as I wanted her. I leaned over her, letting her heady scent flood my nose. I took a long lick over her swollen pussy lips, and her taste was so sweet, it drove me completely crazy. She shuddered and moaned loudly. I couldn’t take anymore. I pushed her hand away and slipped my tongue between her folds. I licked her tight hole, lapping up her juices, and slowly traveled up to the small nub at the top. She moaned and then tensed. She was awake, but I was determined not to let her mind get the better of her. I drew her clit into my mouth, and sucked in a gentle rhythm. My tongue nudged her clit as I suckled, and she quivered.

“We can’t do this,” she said shakily, but there was hardly any conviction in her voice, and that was all I needed. I licked her harder, dipped my tongue into her, then suckled her clit again. She cried out, and like that she came already, flooding my mouth with her sweetness. I didn’t stop. This had only been the first battle. I kept licking then fucked her with my tongue again. I didn’t give her time to recover. I slipped a finger into her. She was so wet, I was met with barely any resistance. My cock was almost raw from rubbing against my pants, but I needed more time for her. I needed to prepare her for what was to come. This time there was no stopping.

He climbed between my legs, parting them. His eyes held mine. I couldn’t move, couldn’t say or do anything. I’d feared this moment when Falcone had gifted me to Growl and now it was happening, but so different from how I’d imagined it. And then he started pushing into me, and I clung to him tightly, my fingers gouging the inked skin of his upper arms. He was tearing me apart. He didn’t slow, didn’t stop. But he watched my face. Laid me bare with his gaze in so many ways. Wasn’t it enough that I was lying naked beneath him? Did he have to strip away the wards over my soul, did he have to make me feel even more vulnerable than I already had? I gasped. It hurt. In so many ways. Was this how losing yourself felt? My body yielded, and yet I was tearing apart. Not physically, even though I wished my inner tumult would manifest in a physical way. Pain wasn’t enough. Not this pain, not when it mingled with hints of pleasure. I wanted to lower my eyelids, wanted to black out the world around and the man above me but I kept my eyes open, kept looking up into that striking face of my captor, my owner, and now lover. Hatred should have been at the forefront of my mind, but it wasn’t. It was still there, still strong, but it was battling with other emotions. Emotions I didn’t want to feel. Compassion and understanding. Gratefulness for his almost kindness and even hints of pity.

My orgasm hadn’t diminished my desire for Cara one bit. Not because the sex hadn’t been satisfying, though that was true, too. I’d had stronger orgasms, had had better sex, but whatever had happened between me and Cara had been the most intense thing I’d ever experienced. It didn’t even make sense.

She wasn’t someone that could sate my hunger, and she wasn’t someone I’d have usually chosen to satisfy my desire, and yet right in this fucking second I couldn’t imagine being with any other woman. I wanted Cara, wanted to see if I could draw her out of her shell, make her more forward and demanding. I wanted to release her hunger. She tried to hide it but tonight I’d caught glimpses of it and I wanted more.

I curled my hands to fists and stared up at the night sky. I’d never found the sight calming or even inspiring. For me it had always looked too vast, too uncertain. Something I couldn’t control or comprehend, not even begin to. Cara, she, too, was like the night sky. As beautiful, there was no doubt about it. I could control her, at least physically, but what went on behind that perfect face, that was completely out of my grasp. Her brain worked in ways mine would never be able to. I liked things simple. Uncomplicated. She was anything but. Comprehending her? That was something I would never manage.

“So what was your real name?” “What does it matter?” “I just want to know,” I said quietly. He stared off again, as if lost in the past. “I’ve been Growl for a long time. That other name, it doesn’t matter anymore.” “Why do you say that? It’s the name your mother chose for you.” “But the boy given that name doesn’t exist anymore. He was erased forever.”

“Do you know who Salvatore Vitiello is?” he asked as he perched on the armrest of the sofa. The thing creaked under his weight. Salvatore Vitiello? Everybody knew that man. Even people who had nothing to do with the mob knew who he was. His death had been all over the newspapers. “Of course. He was the head of the New York Famiglia. But he’s dead now.” Growl nodded. “He is. And your mother is his sister.”

“Do you think I lied to you? She’s doing ok considering everything, believe me.” “I do,” I said. “But I need to see her. Please.” Growl sighed. “It’s not that easy. Falcone keeps a close eye on her. He won’t be happy if you go to her.” “There has to be a way,” I said imploringly. Growl shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m even telling you all this. This could be treason. I’m working for Falcone.”

Seducing someone wasn’t something my mother would have ever condoned. I faltered, my eyes tracing Growl’s muscles straining against his thin t-shirt, then lower to his strong thighs bulging against his jeans. My belly filled with warmth at the sight. I had already slept with him. This was easy now, I tried to tell myself. Growl must have seen something in my expression because he let out a low groan and pulled me toward him, claiming my mouth for a kiss. When he pulled away, he rasped, “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

Growl saw nothing in me but a thing to give him pleasure. For a moment my instincts told me to lock my jaw, but then I let him slide into my mouth. He tasted slightly salty but not in a bad way. Lust flashed in his eyes. My own body flushed with elation, and a new wave of heat gathered between my legs. I shouldn’t want, shouldn’t enjoy this. This was wrong on so many levels but as Growl’s movements became harder, as his length slid in and out of my mouth faster, my hands grabbed his butt on their own accord. His muscles flexed under my fingers, hard and unrelenting.

“Your mouth tastes fucking perfect with my cum in it,” he growled.

His head had to be an incredibly exciting place considering how much time he spent there.

“Falcone was the man who did all this,” Growl said, motioning toward his throat. I pulled my hand away from his chest. “So,” I said slowly. It was difficult finding the right words, or any words, really. “Falcone killed your own mother and wanted to kill you too and you decide to work for him?” I wanted to understand him but how could I possibly understand something like that? This was so far from normal, it blew my mind.

said, “Because he’s my father.”

“It’s never too late to change and to make up for your mistakes.” Growl shook his head. “You’re naïve if you think that’s an option. I won’t change. I don’t want to. My life is good as it is.” “You’re working for the man who killed your mother. I don’t believe you can live with that.” “I have for a very long time.” “If I were you, I’d want to get revenge.” Growl smiled darkly. “But you aren’t me. And you don’t know me.”

He was right. I didn’t know him. Yet. But today he’d handed me a few pieces of the puzzle that was him, and I was determined to get the remaining pieces as well.

“Someone did this to you when you were a kid?” I paused, unsure about the next question. “Your mother?” That would at least explain why Growl didn’t want to avenge her. Growl shook his head. “She wasn’t the best mother. She worked as a whore. Her addiction and job didn’t really help with raising a kid, but she never beat me or hurt me physically.”

“There are other things that make people strong, not just pain. It’s horrible what happened to you. Someone should have protected you. All the people who stood by while you were tortured, they should rot in hell.” “You shouldn’t care,” Growl murmured. “I know.”

“To kill and maim and torture,” I said quietly. Growl’s eyes were almost resigned. “That’s all I can do. If there was ever more in me, it didn’t survive.”

“So you got revenge on the man who burned you and the man who cut your throat, but not the man who is the reason why it happened?” Growl was silent. “He is the reason why you have this.” I reached out to touch the scar on his throat, curious how it would feel but Growl’s hand shot out and his fingers curled around my wrist. “Don’t,” he said quietly, warningly. His eyes were haunted as they fixed on me. I wound out of his grip and put my hand back into my lap. “Why? It’s not like I haven’t touched your other scars.” And every inch of your body. “Don’t,” he repeated in a voice that made me shiver. “Nobody is allowed.”

I’d been sleeping with Growl, and not because he’d forced me, not even only because I hoped to gain his trust. I enjoyed it. There was no denying it. If my mother knew, she’d never look at me again.