Authors: Fiona Davenport
Tags: #mafia romance
Brandon & Carly #2
© 2016 Fiona Davenport
All rights reserved.
Edited by PREMA Editing
Cover design by Elle Christensen
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons or living or dead, events or locales are entirely coincidental.
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arly O’Reilly never wanted the power that came from being the head of her Irish mob family. With her father’s well-deserved death and Brandon DeLuca by her side, she’s ready to shake things up in her new role. But what happens when Brandon has another position in mind for her—as his wife?
lease note: Brandon & Carly’s romance is a three-part story, but there are no relationship cliffhangers. Their story can be read as a standalone separate from Nic & Anna's books.
You are the love that came
iancée?” My question started as a whisper but ended on a yelp when Brandon shoved me behind him to face-off with the stranger who’d claimed to be engaged to me.
“The better question is who the fuck do you think you are?” Brandon’s voice was deceptively soft, the stare he leveled at the guy was lethal. “Because you sure as shit aren’t her fiancé.”
The guy’s chest puffed out as he turned red in the face. “Her da promised her to me.”
“Too bad for you, her father is six feet under and his word doesn’t mean a damn anymore.”
I felt the warmth of a body behind me and a hand being pressed onto my shoulder to hold me in place when I tried to get past Brandon. “Jaysus, Sean. You’re a fecking embarrassment, harassing Carly like this at her da’s wake.”
Oh, thank fuck! Tommy was here to help. Then again, seeing the glare Brandon sent over his shoulder when he saw where Tommy’s hand was, maybe it wasn’t a good thing. And here I was, stuck between a rock, a hard place, and an even harder place. I had Brandon in front of me, Tommy behind me, and the bar to one side. Neither man seemed in a rush to let me out, but I wasn’t about to let them handle this for me. My da had made this mess, and I was determined to clean it up. Shoving Tommy’s hand off my shoulder, I eased around Brandon and to his side. I took comfort in having both men standing with me, but as the head of the O’Reilly family, I needed to show everyone I could handle this on my own. I couldn’t afford to show any signs of weakness. Not here at least.
“My da is no longer the head of this family. I am.” I raised my voice so it rang through the bar, wanting everyone present to hear what I had to say.
“He made the deal when he was in charge o’ the O’Reillys and you’re bound ta honor it now that ya stepped inta his shoes.”
“My da had no honor.” I looked him up and down in distaste, wrinkling my nose. “I’m thinkin’ my da musta been drunk or worse to agree to marry me off to the likes of you. But even if he was stone cold sober, it wouldn’t matter. I’m my own woman, not a slave. I wasn’t his to trade. Therefore, the deal, whatever it was, is null and void.”
I swiveled my head, locking eyes with every member of the O’Reilly organization in the room before returning my gaze to the man claiming to be my fiancé. “It would do you well to remember that I put my own da in his grave. I could easily do the same to you.”
Then I walked over to Nic, snagging two full shots of the finest Irish whiskey from the bar top on my way. I handed one to him, raising my own high in the air. “And don’t forget I’ve accomplished something my da never would have been able to do, an alliance with the DeLucas.”
“Salute,” Nic offered, his gaze filled with satisfaction as he lifted his glass to his lips and tossed the contents back.
“Sláinte,” I replied, following suit. With that, I marched out the door towards the limo, Brandon right behind me. The driver jumped out and hurried around the car to open the back, passenger door. My back stiffened when I heard Brandon tell the driver to take the long way home. I’d just pulled off a powerful exit, and here I was melting at his bossiness. I wished I could say it didn’t turn me on so damn much, but I wouldn’t be telling the truth. He must have felt the resistance in my body because the hand he’d kept on my lower back tightened. “Get in the fucking car, kitten.”
“Fine,” I huffed, more than a little irritated that he actually seemed pissed at me for something over which I’d had no control.
Brandon climbed in after me. His heated stare pinned me to my seat while the privacy window slowly rolled up. Before it made it all the way to the top, he was out of his seat and moving, his hands cupping my cheeks and his mouth covering mine.
Hmmm, maybe not so much pissed as feeling the need to demonstrate I was his. I could definitely work with that. I put everything I had into kissing him back, enjoying the feel of his plump but firm lips against mine. His tongue slid inside, tangling with mine and making me gasp as we battled for control of the kiss. My hands glided up his back, following the lines of his taut muscles. Then I traced up his neck, using my nails to scrape along his sensitive skin. His hands tightened on my cheeks, tilting my head upwards to deepen the kiss further. I moaned into his mouth, tugging at his hair as I panted.
“Fuck, kitten,” he moaned, pulling his head a couple inches away to suck in a deep breath. “You’ve no idea how badly I need you right now.”
“Then take me,” I offered, leaning back in the seat to unbutton my black silk blouse.
I didn’t make it far before I found myself flat on my back with Brandon half on top of me, his fingers working their way through the rest of the buttons. He shoved the soft material wide, sleeves dangling from my shoulders, and ran the rough tips of his fingers along the top of my black lace bra.
“I hate the necessity of you wearing it today, but you look fucking hot in black.”
Lifting my hand from the leather seat, which I’d been clenching tightly, I wrapped it around his wrist. His gaze snapped up from the sight of my tits to my face, right where I wanted it. “Don’t you even,” I hissed. “Not for one moment, think I’m angry or upset or hurt by the fact that my da is dead and you’re the one who killed him.”
“But you were,” he muttered.
“For about a minute, and only because I was too blinded by anger to think about how I’d feel if I was the one to kill him myself,” I admitted. “I hated him so damn much, but he was still my da and you saved me from ever having to regret being the one to pull the trigger.”
“I’d do anything for you,” he vowed.
As crazy as it sounded, considering the way we’d met and the fact that I’d shot him in the leg, I believed him. It was impossible not to with everything he’d already done for me. But, after the hellishness of today, what I needed from him most was to make me forget.
I released his wrist and my hand traveled down to his pants to give his dick a little squeeze. “How about you do anything
“You need me, kitten?” His fingers dipped under the cup of my bra to stroke my nipple, making me catch my breath.
“Yes,” I sighed.
“Fucking right you do.” His other hand ran up my calf to my knee. He slid it under my skirt, making my legs part with a squeeze on my inner thigh. His fingers moved higher, teasing the edge of my panties before slipping inside to stroke my swollen lips. Molten heat poured over me as I trembled with need underneath him. “You need me. Only me.”
He lifted his fingers, hovering over my clit and I jerked my hips up, aching for him to touch me. “Only you,” I repeated.
“You’re mine, Carly,” he growled, his finger lowering again to glide over my clit and down to my opening, teasing me as I spread my legs wider and lifted my hips. He finally pushed a fingertip in to the first knuckle, just enough to make me feel it but not enough to give me what I needed.
“Please,” I whimpered.
He sunk his finger all the way inside. I moaned, holding my legs open with my hands at my knees, wanting more. His eyes were dark as he stared down at me, watching as he slowly fucked me with his finger. In and out at a leisurely pace, adding another finger, and stretching me as he pumped them. When he dipped his head low, I held my breath, afraid to move and break the spell. I wanted his mouth on me too badly, was desperate to feel his lips and tongue drive me into a much needed orgasm.
“Nobody will ever see you like this but me.” His tone was dark, his breath hot against my skin. His tongue swiped me from bottom to top, flicking against my clit at the end. “I’m the only man who knows exactly how sweet you taste.” His fingers curled up, rubbing against my G-spot and making me scream. It was too much, my orgasm crashed down on me suddenly. “The only one who gets to hear your cries and see your beautiful face when you come.” He lifted me up, his hand fumbling with his belt and zipper to shove his pants down before he settled me on his lap. I felt the wide crown of his cock at my opening and then he lunged up, filling me in one powerful thrust. “And mine is the only cock that will ever fill your tight pussy. I don’t give a flying fuck who wants to take you away from me. I’ll kill anyone who tries.”
“I don’t want anyone else. Only you,” I reassured him, cupping his jaw in my hands to hold him in place. I slid my nose down his until my lips hovered over his mouth. “Never anyone but you.”
His control broke, and his fingers dug into my hips as he pounded up into me. I met him thrust for thrust, nipping at his bottom lip with my teeth while I rode him. My knees were clenched into his sides, my heels were probably jabbing him in the thigh, and I gripped his shoulders so hard my nails were digging into his skin. It all seemed to egg him on, making him move faster. Harder. Deeper.
He shifted his grip on my ass, his thumb sliding towards my puckered opening and teasing me. My brain told me to freeze up, but my body had a mind of its own. He owned my pleasure, knowing exactly what to give me to toss me over the edge. With the glide of his thumb and a roll of his hips, I was there. My orgasm crashed over me with so much force I lost my breath, clinging to his hard body as I shuddered. Then his arms tightened around me, impossibly tight as he pumped into me. His groans of satisfaction rang in my ears even as I felt him pulsing inside me.
I lay limp on his chest, my head resting on his shoulder as I gulped in air like I’d just run a marathon. Except running a marathon didn’t sound like any fun, and sex with Brandon was the most fun I’d ever had in my entire life. “I’d pick a sexathon with you over a marathon any day of the week.”
His bark of laughter startled me, making me bury my face into the crook of his neck. “I said that aloud, didn’t I?”
“You sure did,” he confirmed. “Anytime you’re in the mood for some exercise, just let me know. I’m always up for a good workout.”
Sliding off his still semi-hard dick, I was able to confirm his claim. We’d both just climaxed, but I bet he could go again anytime now.
“Shit!” I muttered when I felt our mixed come sliding down my inner thigh. I clenched my fist and socked him in the shoulder. “No fucking condom! A-fucking-gain.”
alm down, kitten,” I said, trying to keep my tone soothing, despite my irritation at her reaction.
“I can’t calm down, Brandon,” she snapped. “This is the worst possible timing to forget the fucking condom. What if I get pregnant?”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Since I fully intended to knock you up after the wedding”—I stressed my next words—“
by the end of next week,
I don’t see how it matters if it happens a few days early.”
Carly reared back, sliding away from me, but I didn’t allow her to get far before I hauled her back over and onto my lap, so she was straddling me. My semi-hard cock was still out and she was positioned right over it, her bare pussy snug against it.