Page 87 of Precious Legacy
“Never,” I promise, flipping her onto her stomach as I pin her down with my hand on the back of her neck. I drive my dick into her until I meet resistance, her pleasure-filled moans growing louder and louder. The slick sounds of her cunt dripping all over my dick accompany her whimpers and have me leaning forward. I take her earlobe in my mouth, sinking my teeth into the flesh until she cries out and her body spasms.
Her pussy clenches, holding my cock captive as she shudders through the waves of her climax. When she finally comes down, I roll her over, finally able to see her flushed skin and sated expression as her chest heaves. But then I notice something else, something that brings out the primal urge to make someone hurt.
I reach forward, cupping her jaw and tilting her head as I inspect the graze. It’s small, barely visible, but it’s enough to make my blood boil.
“It’s just a scratch,” she whispers, still panting as she traces my hand with hers.
The scratch she’s referring to spans across her jaw, probably from where Officer Shit-stain shoved her against the wall of the warehouse as he cuffed her. My skin crawls and my fingers itch to inflict pain. Scratch or not, I’ve made it fucking clear that nobody fucking touches her. Nobody lives to get away with hurting her.
“Ro,” she whispers, her soothing voice gradually drawing me in. “We should talk.”
“Alanis,” I sigh, because I know what she wants to discuss. “I’m not going to apologize for Greedy’s death. Or his friend’s.”
“No,” she snaps, taking me by surprise. “It’s not about him, though, we do need to discuss that. It’s about the officer who arrested me… I know him. He’s one of my training officers.” She takes a deep breath, running her hand through the hair that’s flopped in front of my eyes.
“Is he the third guy?” I take another look at the graze on her jaw, hating that this happened to her. All she had to do was run. She could have gotten away, but her damn stubbornness kept her by my side.
She gives me a barely imperceptible nod, chewing down on her bottom lip. “I think he recognizes me from that night, but now he definitely knows about my connection to The Five. He threatened to tell the chief.”
My brows knit together. “You think he’ll do it?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Mom seems to have something on him, but I don’t know if it’ll be enough.” The fear is written all over her expression. She’s wanted this for so long and it’s about to be ripped from her.
“Fuck,” I groan, rolling over.
She tucks herself into my side, resting her head on my chest. “He shouldn’t have been there, Ro,” she mentions. “He’s a training officer, he’s not on active duty.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” she sighs tiredly. The past two days can’t have been easy on her; they weren’t for me. Clearly, it’s all catching up with us, but something about what she’s saying has my mind reeling. “What if he’s a dirty cop, and he’s working with someone to take you guys down? He knew who I was, Ro. He knew I was associated with you.”
Fuck.How did I not see this? This is exactly why Alanis was trying to keep her distance from me and the academy. It wasn’t just to keep herself safe, but us, too.
I can see the fear and vulnerability swimming in her eyes. It isn’t for herself, though. It’s for the future of The Five; for me and her brother. Clutching her face, I press my lips to hers.
She whimpers against the kiss, trying to push me away, but I press harder, deeper, until she stops fighting me. Until the world fades away and we’re breathing the same air. In that moment, I forget about the Russians, about Officer Shitstain, and the cops trying to take us down. It’s just me and Alanis and the undeniable magnetizing attraction between us.
“We’ll deal with that later,” I say, crawling over her body and pushing her thighs apart with my knees. “Right now, I want to fuck you until your lungs are raw.”
She wraps her legs around my waist, tilting her hips and goading me with her needy cunt. Her jaw flickers with my favorite brand of defiance as her lips kick up into a smirk. “I’d like to see you try, Genovese.”
THIRTY-THREE
“What else?” I gulp, staring blankly at the wall ahead of me. After finding out from my brother about Roman being my avenging angel, I found myself eager for the details. I waited until I was all but leaving the apartment to head to the academy before I asked. Though since Roman started with how he ripped flesh from their bodies, I’m a little hesitant for the rest.
“That’s it,” Roman confirms, staring back at me expectantly.
I feel numb. His words register, but something inside me wishes there was more to it. I’ve been trying so damn hard to prove I’m nothing like my family, taking the moral high ground to bring justice for what happened, and yet all I can think about is how I wish I could’ve witnessed my attacker’s final moments.
Joining the police force was a way for me to show that there’s more than one way to take down the enemy; to exact justice. But there’s no denying that hearing Ashton and his friend plead for their lives would’ve been more satisfying.
I now realize that I’ve been attempting to abide by some moral code that I have no business navigating, because morals are something our family doesn’t have an abundance of. It’sin my blood. I live and breathe violence, and no amount of separating myself from it will completely erase that part of me. It’s what feeds the darkest parts of me. The parts that wanted to be the last face my attackers saw before meeting their demise. I think that pisses me off more than Roman’s savior complex.
He’s by no means my knight in shining armor, though, because that would mean he had a soul. No, Roman Genovese is the antihero in a sexy suit. A man who’d get his hands dirty so I don’t have to. The past two days gave me enough time to think about things, and I know being in the police academy makes things complicated between us, but my dad’s words echo in my head. I need to look out for my brother, the same way he’s done for me. Somehow, my mind goes to Roman as well.I need to protect him, too.
All of this doesn’t have to be for nothing.
“Lani,” Roman says, breaking me from thoughts. “I’m not going to apologize for what I did.”
