Filthy Rich (The Five Points' Mob Collection, #2)

by Serena Akeroyd

Da had never hit Ma during those blackouts of his, but I’d seen her crying in the kitchen. Whether that was in concern for him or for something he’d said, I’d never asked. Maybe I should have, maybe, with fears of my turning into him, I should have delv...

It was why, the other night, I’d been so pissed at myself for hurti...

Accidentally wounding her with words was a slippery slope that I didn...

Her whispered gratitude made my chest feel weird. Like it was too full. She was…for want of a better word, sweet.

I doubted any woman wanted to be told they were sweet. It was like the personality equivalent of cute, and even I knew most women thought being cute was a crime. They wanted to be sexy, to vamp it up. But I didn’t think it was a crime.

As it was, she kept doing shit that made it easy to accept her presence in my life.

The other night she’d gagged, too, when she’d tried the ragu. Apparently, she’d put a whole can of anchovies into the mix, which made it taste like some ungodly concoction I wouldn’t wish on Vasov—wait, maybe I would.

Then there were the cinnamon rolls she’d drowned in vanilla extract, and they’d made the apartment smell like the Pillsbury Dough boy had let off a wet one in the apartment.

They’d tasted quite good, actually, but they’d been sloppy as hell. More raw d...

Then there was the Jell-O she could never get to set. I wasn’t sure how she di...

And it always amused the fuck out of me, even if I neve...

“Why would I want you to go anywhere?” “Freedom is sweet, and you’ve never had

“Some people,” she eventually remarked, “will never be free. When you’re in the life, you’re always in it. There’s no running away, there’s no avoiding the taint.” She shrugged. “I knew that. It’s why I never fought the wedding.”

“Because of your sister?” “Yeah. She whored herself out for safety, what’s the difference between—” “Don’t you dare compare me to a clubhouse of dirty bikers.”

“I did at first, then I got a sight of your ass in boxer briefs and I was a convert.”

“My butt is a lifesaver.” “Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but it’s sure pretty.” She wolf whistled, then giggled when I glowered at her.

“Anyway, before I knew you, maybe I got it. Maybe I understood, but I also knew that chasing freedom is only going to get me one place.” I frowned. “Where?” “Nowhere. We have to make the best of things, and I’d like to th...

“Are you sure you’re not trying to poison me?” “Well, I’d be doing a damn good job of it if I was, wouldn’t I?” she muttered, utterly disgrunt...

“You want to watch us in the kitchen, don’t you?” She swallowed, and her pupils were like pinpricks. “I’m weird, aren’t I?” Weird? More like perfect.

We’d be late to dinner, and that came with a wooden spoon to the back of the head, but fuck. It was worth it.

After pushing my seat back, I reached for her seatbelt, unbuckled it, then grabbed her waist and hauled her over to me so she was sitting sideways on my lap. She settled there like she was made for me, and fuck, if it wasn’t starting to feel that way.

Her kinks and mine? Were one and the same.

She wore a skirt, and like a good little girl, she parted her thighs for me, letting me plunder the treasure between them.

My cock pounded behind my fly, and even as I wondered what the fuck was happening to me, how I was parked in a dark alley, treating my wife like some kind of two-bit whore, I thrust a finger inside her slickness.

She clung to me like silk, and the notion that, once again, I was the only one to taste that cunt, to touch it, to fuck it, to hear these moans, to own them and her, made me feel like I could explode.

I wanted nothing more than to drag her outside, bend her over the fender, a...

The fantasy blurred my reason, and only knowing it was bright out, that it was relatively busy, and that the street I’d parked off of held a lot of foot traffic, stopped me, because Inessa? She was loud. She screamed. A lot. Her moans would be overheard, and no one, no fucking on...

It was stupid, reckless. But I didn’t give a fuck. I bit down, sucking on her throat like I was eighteen again and wanted my girlfriend to bear my mark. I knew my brothers would give me shit about it, I knew they’d know what it meant. I was a possessive motherfucker. And I’d just claimed her as mine in front of them.

But I didn’t have it in me to give a shit about the upcoming teasing, about the knowing looks I was going to receive. I didn’t give a shit that Da would tell me that I should have trusted him all along to pick the right woman for me. I didn’t give a shit. I just wanted her. I needed her.

Why didn’t I drive my Hummer upstate like I usually did? There was enough room in there to have her for my starter, entree, and fucking dessert.

I shoved at her top, a prim little blouse that really shouldn’t have fucked with my head the way it did.

I’d never been one to get off on plaid skirts and shit like that. Teacher/student kinks had never been my thing, but seeing Inessa wander out of the closet this morning looking like a Catholic schoolgirl who was in serious need of punishment had hit my cock in so many ways that I’d almost had to sit down at the sight of her.

I’d been fighting the urge to get her to suck my cock all day, but I didn’t want that now. I wanted this cunt ...

She wasn’t ready for me full throttle. Not yet. Fuck, maybe never. The thought had everything inside me whining, because I wanted nothing more than to lose myself in her but…that was for whores.

Whores didn’t use mouths that eventually kissed your babies on the head before bedtime. They weren’t the ones who sat at your side in church or ate with your family.

Her hips rocked, her butt digging into my lap, brushing my cock with her weight. It protested the move because it was already caged up when it wanted out, and her words? Had every bit of my fucking soul coming to life.

I wasn’t the most talkative of men, and in the bedroom, less so. I took what a woman offered me with her body. Reading the language she spoke with her moans and sighs, her writhing and wriggling. But with Inessa? I wanted more. I needed to…

She was a kinky little thing for one so innocent, and that made me wonder if she could be both my whore and my wife. If there even was such a thing.

“Please. I need you. I need your dick.” “Why?” I rasped, smoothing my hand over her soft legs, trailing my fingertips over the inside of her thighs. They instantly spread wider, like she was encouraging me to go higher, but I kept the touch light. Taunting. “Tell me why, Inessa.” “You fill me full,”

“This little cunt wants my cock, huh? Wants to be stuffed?” I played with the slit that was weeping for me. “Y-Yes,” she moaned. And I couldn’t stop myself. Couldn’t, even if, later on, I’d kick myself for being a fool. “You might not like what you’re asking for,” I warned. Her eyes had been closed until that point, but at my words, they flared open and she stared straight at me. “I want everything you have to give.”

She did as bid, and the sight of her slick cunt, dripping… Any other woman, I’d have cared about my pants and upholstery. Inessa? I wanted to be covered in her cum. I wanted it on my face, on my hands, around me, soaking me through.

I knew, at that moment, I’d never been closer to someone than I was with her.

To the world, she was my possession, but the sense of belonging I felt was different than ownership at that moment. I didn’t understand it, couldn’t explain it, but I figured some things didn’t need to be reasoned or defined. They just were.

She was addictive, and she’d just reeled me in. Hook....

I cursed myself for not checking in the mirror before I climbed out of the car, but to be honest, I’d been so out of it that I hadn’t even realized we’d arrived at the house. Eoghan had… Fuck, was this what sex was like? Was it always this way?

His fingers had been between my legs even as he’d driven us here, and his cum, as it left my body, he’d rubbed it into me, swirling it about my clit, sending sparks of pleasure and pain through me.

I’d been ready to fuck sooner than was physically possible, but he’d tapped my pussy with slick fingers and said, “Until later. Don’t wash this off...

He’d raised his dirty fingers to his lips and had sucked them clean, all while I watched, and somehow, that was the hottest thing of all. I got the feeling that if we’d been home, he’d have eaten me out, which should have been gross, but wasn’t. Nothing we did was. And that was how he made me feel.

Like all the filthy things I wanted weren’t filthy. They were normal.

I’d always gotten turned on at strange stuff. Getting off in front of Maxim was sexier to me than him actually touching me. The thought of sex outside, with the guy fu...