Devil You Know (The Diavolo Crime Family #2) Read Online J.L. Beck, Cassandra Hallman

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: , Series: The Diavolo Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
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Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
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Shit. I anticipated that we’d see some blowback from losing her, but I didn’t expect it to be so fast. Nor to occur before I had the chance to either kill some people or bribe them into silence.

“Who’s complaining?”

Soo throws himself into the chair in front of my desk and bends over to cradle his head. It’s been a long night for both of us. “The buyer. He’s complaining about losing his prize and is promising to retrieve her himself.”

The singular thought of another man touching or even attempting to touch her reignites the rage Celia’s body only just cooled.

“I’d love to see him try.” I snicker. “He got his money back, so I don’t know what he is complaining about. Let’s wait for him to make his move. Then, at the very least, I’ll have a legitimate reason to kill him.”

8

Celia

Somehow, I manage to get a few hours of sleep. Probably by sheer exhaustion. When I wake sometime later, my wrists ache, and my fingers are numb from being secured to Nicolo’s bed for hours. That’s not all I wake to. There is a blanket of warmth surrounding me from my neck down to my toes.

I blink my eyes a few times to adjust to the light and find Nicolo passed out, his naked body cupped to the side of my own.

It’s more of a shock to find him naked. Every time he takes off clothes, it’s mostly just shoving them aside than taking them off; he’s never been fully nude in front of me. The muscles low in my belly tighten at the image before me. Why do I like it so much? He’s solid, strong, his muscles dip and rise under his skin. Looking at him gives me the strange urge to trace the ridges of him with my teeth and tongue, to learn the map of his body just as he’s surely memorized mine.

It’s nothing. Obviously, I’m still on edge from him denying me an orgasm this morning. That has to be the only reason I find him so appealing right now. It’s definitely not the inky black tattoos tracking over his skin or the faint dusting of hair leading from his belly button down to his semi-erect cock. The man is always hard when he’s around me.

He stirs beside me, and I quickly stare up at the ceiling. I can’t have him thinking I actually want him.

“My stellina…” he whispers against my neck, his breath raising goose bumps down my bare chest.

I keep silent and wiggle my wrists, hoping he gets the hint. He grunts and unbuckles the belts, gently lowering my arms to the bed. I can’t move my wrists or my fingers, and an intense tingle builds in my muscles as he lies there and massages my wrists, palms, and fingers so gently. It’s like he can be the kindest man ever, and in a flash, he can become the monster of your worst nightmare.

“Better?” he asks.

I tug my hands from his grasp and rotate each wrist to make sure the circulation is restored. As much as I want to fight him at every turn, I don’t want to spend another night tied to his bed. It’s my own fault. I know he always follows through on a threat. I was just too angry to care, too full of pride.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, his voice deep and sleep ridden.

The sound tugs low in my belly, and I shake my head. “No, not yet. I really need to use the restroom and take a shower.”

He hops off the bed like a true morning person, and I scowl at his stupidly nice bare ass. When he comes around and holds his hands out to me, I glare at them. “I can get up by myself.”

To my surprise, he doesn’t argue, just walks into the bathroom. I’m ashamed to admit I watch his ass until it disappears.

While he’s brushing his teeth, I gingerly climb off the bed. I’m sore all over from the Diavolo brothers’ manhandling of me most of the last twenty-four hours. I look down at my body. Bruises line my hips, my wrists, and my upper arms.

They are minor, though, so I rub them gently but resolve to ignore them. They will always heal. It’s the deeper stuff that never goes away.

Nic’s standing in the doorway when I arrive.

“Excuse me,” I say.

He shifts to the side to let me pass, and I squeeze through and head to the toilet. He doesn’t leave as I turn around to sit, and I’m confused why he’s still standing there.

“You can go.”

His shrug sends my belly to my toes. “I’m not going anywhere. You haven’t eaten in, I don’t know how long, and you’re a little unsteady on your feet. I won’t let anything happen to you. As I said, you belong to me. I’m responsible for your care in every way.”


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