Trapped in his End Game (Series)

Hating him, I twist my face. “I didn’t say anything, but I should have. I hate all of you. They told me the truth about my dad. Then I went to see my mom. She told me everything.”

“They’re fucking lying, Adriana! You can’t trust anything they tell you. They just want you to give up information!”

“Oh, and I’m supposed to trust you?”

He releases me roughly, looking wounded. “I have no idea who killed your dad, all right? Jack would have told me if he knew anything. That’s why I think they’re lying to you.”

“My mom confirmed it,” I scream.

“That pucchiaca,” he snarls, waving his hand dismissively. “She’s a crazy bitch who stole from you. How the fuck can you trust anything she says?”

I stop in my tracks, glaring at him as white-hot anger shakes my chest. He just called my mother a cunt. He’s never criticized my mother in front of me, although his eyes would flash whenever I mentioned her. It’s way over the line. Even now, he looks remorseful.

“Don’t you dare-”

“I’m sorry-”

“-insult my mother. Ever.”

I may scream and complain about her, but that doesn’t give him the right to insult her. Confusion riles my stomach. I don’t know who to believe anymore. My whole world is upside down.

He takes my arm and steers me into the living room, making me sit on the couch. I expect him to sit across from me, but he sits on the coffee table and grabs my shoulders.

“Adriana, this is really fucking important. What else did the Feds say?”

“I told you. They know about me being in your card games, they know Nicky’s game was robbed, and they know people were killed.”

“Fuck.”

Vince covers his face with his hands in an uncharacteristic show of weakness.

“Oh, and I might go to jail for participating in illegal gambling.”

His head snaps up. “Did they say you were under arrest?”

“No.”

“Did they say you would be arrested if you didn’t give them information?”

“No.”

A sigh leaves his mouth. “Then you have nothing to worry about. They don’t have shit on you, otherwise they would have arrested you.”

I sink into the couch, every inch of me trembling. “You’ve ruined my life.”

His shoulders curl forward as he looks down. “It’s not ruined, Adriana.”

“It is!” I stand up, but he pushes me back into the couch. “They killed my dad. They ruined my childhood. How many other lives have you ruined? How many other innocent people have to die before you realize that this life is fucked up?”

“This is who I am. You knew who I was, Adriana,” he says in a quiet, cold voice. “All of a sudden, you have a problem with it? I don’t buy it.”

My voice falters. “My dad died because of people like you.”

His mouth twists. “What exactly do you mean? I’ve been nothing but good to you, Adriana. I never hurt you, have I?”

Heart pounding, I shake my head, but I’m still determined to hate him.

“Face it. Your father was far from innocent if he was borrowing money from organized crime. Even you said they didn’t mean to kill him. We don’t kill people who don’t pay back loans.”

“Yeah, right!”

“It would defeat the whole purpose!”

Shut up.

I shake my head, frustrated tears squeezing from my eyes. Fuck him. Fuck all of them. His hand lies on my knee and I want to smash it because there is no one else to take out my anger on.

“I’m sorry about your dad, I really am, but his death had nothing to do with me. Don’t punish me for something I didn’t do.”

“It just doesn’t feel right. Every night I see him die.”

He sits down beside me and pulls me into a hug. I’m so fucking weak. I cling to his chest and against my will I feel better. Then a sick wave threatens to drag me under the sea when I imagine dad’s killers with Vincent’s face.

“We’ll find out who did it.”

What?

“Because I love you…because you’re everything to me, I’ll find out who killed him. And you’ll get justice.”

My throat is ice. “I-I don’t know if I want that.”

“Yes, you do.”

Somehow, his heated gaze sees directly through my skin and flesh, into the sick desires of my heart. Maybe that’s why he chose to reveal to me his real desire the first night we were together. Just the thought of it makes me burn.

His heat wraps around me as his finger move across my jaw, tipping my head up. His angry mouth and tongue descend over my lips. I can barely kiss him back, because his mouth travels to my neck and sucks hard. My core tightens and I dig my fingers into his soft hair. I can’t help but want him. I know it’s wrong, and his offer to kill my father’s murderer is insane, but at the same time I feel so empowered by it.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

He’d do anything for me. Kill for me.

My jacket falls from my shoulders. He reaches around my waist and pulls my shirt right off my head, followed quickly by my bra. He plants hot kisses down my throat and his hands slide up my belly to grab my breasts. I moan into his hair, which is thick with his unique, masculine scent. He laughs richly as I sit up while straddling his waist, my breasts flush against his face.

His arms squeeze my thighs through my jeans, and then his hand makes a circle around my ass. I know what he’s going to do and I wrap my arms around his head. A sharp sting lands on my ass as he slaps me hard. His mouth takes my nipple and bites, his tongue playing with the sensitive flesh, and I moan.

Suddenly, he flips me over so that I’m on my back, and his body hovers over me. He grips my jaw painfully and gives me a sharp slap with his other hand. For a moment I’m stunned, close to tears.

“That’s for running off and not answering my calls. You put me through hell today. Don’t do it again, Adriana. I mean it.”

The threat in his voice makes me swallow hard, but he follows it with a tender kiss. I’m getting a whiplash from his constant mood swings, but it all feels so good that I don’t care.

“Promise me you won’t.”

He pulls back, looking at me with a mixture of aggression and lust.

“I-I promise.”

Fingers tap against my cheek again. “Promise what?”

“I promise I won’t run off.”

“Good girl.”

He bends over me, unzipping my fly. The tight jeans snag on my hips and I feel a small thrill as he yanks them harder. They fly off my legs. He pulls off the sexy black lingerie panties he bought for me and a shudder runs through his body. His hand cups my mound and his finger dips into me. It’s so slick that there’s hardly any resistance.

“You were made for me.”

He grabs my arms and pulls me upright like a doll, and I do the same thing to him. I grab him through his jeans and reach back to hold all of him. He wants to pick me up, but I undo his belt and unzip his jeans. He scoops me in his arms and lifts me up. We make it a few steps until my back slams against the wall, my legs locked around his waist. Then he adjusts himself and slams me against the wall again. His hardness throbs between my legs briefly before it stabs into me.

Clutching his head, I utter a high gasp. It’s so much more forceful. Every inch of him buries inside me as his wicked mouth makes hickeys on my chest. I squeeze around him as he pulses in and out, hurting my back.

“I love you,” I hiss in his ear. “Oh, God, Vince.”

“You fucking better.”

His length shoves into me again and my breath is knocked out of my lungs. It feels so incredible. Every day with him is always so unpredictable. I wrap my arms around his neck to bring him closer to me, so that our bodies are flush against each other. He begins a frenzied pace and he can’t contain his deep, male groans. He ruts me hard, his thick length impaling me over and over. The nerves inside me are lit like a fuse, and the pressure gathers together. It grows larger. It’s louder. My throat is raw with screaming his name.

His tongue shoves down my throat and then he moans while his lips are still attached to me. His cock jumps inside me, still buried, and there’s a flooding of warmth. My core contracts against him and pleasure bursts free, melting over all my limbs as Vince lowers me to the floor, kissing me.

He won’t let go. Vince scoops me off the floor with a devilish look and from the changing color of the walls; I realize he brought me into the bedroom. My lids droop as he lowers me gently into bed. He joins me, stripping the bed to slide under the sheets with me.

The ache inside me still burns as if I’m missing my heart. Vince reaches out and pulls me into his chest with a happy sigh. I burrow into his arms and collapse.

“Vince?”

His chest rumbles. “Hm?”