Shrouded in Blackness Read online

  Quinn reaches forward with her small hand, grasping my dick firmly. She strokes my wet cock slowly, gathering my pre-come with her thumb. She releases my cock and places her thumb in her mouth, moaning as my come touches her soft mouth. If I were a weak man I’d blow my load right now. Instead, I palm my dick and press my head inside her. Quinn’s so fucking tight it almost hurts.

  Inch by inch, I sink into her, rubbing her clit with my fingers to give her pleasure through the pain. When my hips are flush with hers I lean forward and pull her fat bottom lip between my teeth. Quinn slants her head and shoves her tongue in my mouth, yanking my hair with such force I’m pretty sure I’ll have a bald spot. I grin against her mouth, pulling my dick out slowly before plowing back in.

  “Yes,” she moans, arching her neck. I take the advantage, dropping my head next to hers and set a punishing pace. The room is filled with moans and skin slapping together. I pull her legs over my shoulders, sinking deeper until I bottom out inside her. Quinn’s breath hitches at the sensation. Her icy blue eyes roll back in her head as she takes everything I’ve got to give her. My balls tighten as the pressure builds within me, driving deeper and harder.

  With every thrust, Quinn’s tits bounce until she reaches up, cupping them and pinching her nipples.

  “Fuck,” I gasp at the sight.

  A flush blooms on her chest, working its way up to her cheeks as her orgasm thrashes through her body. Breathless incantations of my name stutter from her lips as her pussy leaks with pleasure. I drive into her once more before filling her to the brim with my come. I grunt and shake, thrusting every drop as far inside her as I can get it before lowering my body onto hers.

  I keep my cock buried like a cork, trapping all of me within her. If this doesn’t get her pregnant I’ll have to get my swimmers checked.

  “Shit, Kieran. You didn’t use a condom again,” she says, climbing out of her post orgasmic fog.

  “I know,” I grunt, surprised I’m able to form two words. “Never gonna.”

  “Oh, really? I should probably get on the pill then,” she says through a snort, pushing a little of me out. I growl and thrust my hips forward.

  “No,” I grumble.

  “No pill or no pushing you outta me?”

  “Both.”

  “I’m gonna get pregnant.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can you give me more than one word answers?”

  “No.”

  She tumbles into a fit of giggles which pushes my dick out of her, causing me to get mad. Irrational caveman behavior? Yes. Do I try to hide this? No.

  “Quinn,” I warn.

  Her giggles turn into full belly laughs until I take two fingers, swipe up all of my come leaking from her tight pussy and shove them inside her. She stops laughing and strokes my hair sweetly.

  “Can’t knock you up if it’s running down your legs,” I murmur into her neck.

  “You really want another baby?” she asks in an inquisitive tone, not scared or annoyed, just wanting my answer.

  “I want everything with you.”

  I sit up on my elbow, keeping my finger plug in place as I peer down into her bruised and battered face. She offers me a small, almost timid smile, which makes my brow furrow.

  “His fingers were in me last night like this.” I immediately begin to remove my fingers, feeling like a monster. Quinn traps my wrist lightning fast, holding my fingers knuckle deep within her.

  “I’ll never feel them inside me again because you just took the memories and replaced them with the memory that your fingers could be holding in our third baby.”

  “Fuck, I love you,” I groan and start working my fingers in and out of her, sliding my come all over her folds. My cock springs back to life and I bury myself inside her. I move to wipe my hand on the sheets, but Quinn catches me and guides my fingers in her mouth, curving a seductive smile around them. She sucks them clean, popping them from her lips as she finishes.

  I crush my mouth to hers, tasting the tangy remnants of each of us on her tongue as I pound into her, fiercely driven by the primal need to mark her again. Growling and panting, sweating and grunting, thrusting and rubbing until she begs me to stop. I thunder into her pulsing hole, filling her just as I did before. This time she leaves my dick, allowing nature to do its job. Probably because she passes out before she can make a different choice.

  Kieran

  “Yeah?” I bark into my phone.

  “Just saw the most amazin’ fuckin’ thing in my entire life,” Collin says softly.

  “Tell me.”

  “She’s sittin’ there with her son on her chest. She’s glowin’ like the sun. Swear to God, I almost cried.”

  That crazy bitch in Seattle went into labor six weeks early with Kellerman’s baby. Shannon and the rest of our families hopped flights to get there, not knowing if the baby would make it. Sounds like it all worked out in the end because Shannon’s got her son and the crazy fucking ex died from complications. Complications she caused by taking cocaine while she was pregnant! It’s a good thing she’s dead, otherwise Shannon would be looking at a murder charge.

  “Don’t turn into a pussy on me, cousin,” I snark, knowing full well what the sight of a woman and her child causes in a man.

  “You are what you eat,” he quips back. Touché.

  “Give Shannon our love. We’d be there if Ash didn’t have this ear infection. Quinn doesn’t wanna put her on a plane.”

  “It’s all good. You guys can fly into Kansas City once Ash is better. They’ll have to be here in Seattle until the baby’s released. You wouldn’t believe how tiny Johnny is.”

  My breath hitches at the baby’s name. That’s Shannon’s dead father’s name.

  “Johnny?”

  “Jonathan David Kellerman.”

  I’m not a pussy, so I won’t cry. Jonathan for Shannon’s dad. David for Kellerman’s also-dead father. Best fucking name ever.

  “Hell, yes! Brian just texted me pictures. I’ll send ’em to you.”

  “Do that,” I say through a grin at how excited Collin is to be an uncle. He spends quite a bit of time with my kids, so I know how much this means to him.

  “You’re all domesticated, now the Kellerman family’s together—who’s next?”

  “You?”

  “Fuck that. I like pussy too much to settle on one flavor.”

  “You just haven’t found your favorite yet. Once you do you’ll do anything to keep that flavor on your lips morning, noon and night.”

  He chuckles loudly in the phone as I do the same.

  “I’m gettin’ love life advice from Kieran Delaney. What’s goin’ on in this world?”

  Fuck if I know. If you would have told me six months ago I’d be in love and have two kids I would have laughed in your face. That’s how life works, though, never know what’s around the corner.

  “Just got to our hotel. I’ll call you later and fill you in once we know more.”

  “Thanks for callin’.”

  “Sendin’ the pictures now.”

  We hang up and my phone dings. There she is. Glowing so bright I’m surprised they captured her on film.

  “Quinn!” I bellow through the house, knowing I shouldn’t.

  “Shh,” she scowls, striding into the room. “I just got Ashling to sleep. I swear to God if you—” I cut her off, holding up the screen of my phone.

  Her scowl melts into an endearing, soft smile. She cradles the phone near her face as though she can climb into the phone to be with Shannon and Johnny.

  “He’s so little,” she coos. “Is he okay? How’s Shannon? When are they bringin’ him home? How much did he weigh?”

  “Quinn,” I stop her never-ending questions.

  “I wish we could be there.”

  “Me too,” I say as I wrap her in my arms and pull her into my lap on the couch. “We’ll fly to Kansas City once Ash’s better and they’re settled back in.”

  “Is that Kellerman?” She holds up t
he screen, showing Kellerman sitting next to Shannon, beaming with pride.

  “Yeah.”

  “Wow.”

  “What?”

  “Well, look at him. He’s massive. Kinda hot, too,” she says the last part with a mischievous grin on her fat lips.

  “You’re gonna get it.” I throw her on her back on the couch and start tickling her throat with my stubble while she squeals and tries half-assedly to push me off.

  “Daddy, did you know that dinosaurs make the gas in the car?” Jack says, climbing on the couch. I stop my assault and sit us up.

  “I do know that.”

  “It was in my lesson today. Dinosaurs are instinct.”

  “Extinct,” I correct.

  “That’s what I said.”

  “You wanna see something cool?”

  “Sure.”

  I show him the pictures of the baby and Shannon. He’s impressed for about two seconds before he goes back to telling me all about dinosaurs.

  “Are you excited about your birthday, Daddy?”

  “Yeah, bud.”

  “Mommy got you the best present ever, but it’s a secret so I can’t tell you.”

  “Is it Avengers pajamas?”

  “No,” he says rolling his big blue eyes at me.

  “Is it Legos?”

  “I’m not tellin’,” he says seriously, crossing his arms over his chest. Jack looks more and more like the six-year-old he should. He’s gaining weight and growing like a weed. Quinn had to go buy him a whole new wardrobe last week because he’d outgrown everything.

  “Grandma says I get to sleep in your old room tomorrow night,” he says excitedly, changing the subject.

  The kids are staying with my parents’ tomorrow night after we have a family dinner for my birthday. I’m not big on celebrating, but it’s important for Jack to see these types of things. I’ve been planning all the surfaces in the house I’m going to have sex with Quinn on while the kids are gone. Happy birthday to me!

  “I’ve got some work to do tonight, so Uncle Ian’s gonna come over and hang out with you guys tonight.”

  “Cool. You think he’ll play video games with me? Mommy can’t play ’em. She always dies and then kills me.”

  “Hey. I try,” Quinn feigns offense. She doesn’t try.

  “How ’bout I play with you now?”

  “Yeah!” He jumps up and runs down into the basement.

  “I’m gonna go take a nap while Ashling is still out. I’m worn out from bein’ up with her all night,” Quinn says through a yawn.

  “I’ll wake you up before I head out.” I press a kiss to her hair before jogging down the stairs to act like a kid for a few hours.

  “Hey boss,” Connor calls out as I walk into The Castle. I bought the building next to Brogan’s to run the Dílseacht Crew out of. We named it The Castle, our fortress from the streets. It’s taken some work, but things are coming together in here. There are offices and small studio apartments on the second level. The main floor is similar to Brogan’s, set up for training and fighting.

  “What’s goin’ on for the fight tonight?” I ask as I make my way up the metal stairs to my office.

  “Lotta money comin’ in for the Russian, Vetrov. He’s fightin’ that Italian kid, Barzetti,” Connor informs me, taking the leather chair across the dark wood desk from me.

  “Seen either of ’em fight?”

  “Watched Barzetti a few weeks back. Kid’s quick—got a lot to learn though. Heard Vertrov’s a beast. Got the potential to go pro. Russian’s are lookin’ to line their pockets to make that push for him.”

  “Doesn’t sound like much of a fight,” I snort.

  “Barzetti’s the only one willin’ to fight Vetrov.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Vetrov killed a guy a few weeks back. Some say it was an accident others are sayin’ he did it to prove a point.”

  “And that would be?”

  “Don’t fuck with him.”

  I quirk an eyebrow, signaling I need more fucking information than that.

  “Apparently the guy he was fightin’ had been runnin’ his mouth for weeks. Spouted some shit about fuckin’ Vetrov’s woman. Don’t think that’s what set him off, though, because from what I’ve found out, Vetrov doesn’t have a woman.”

  “Doesn’t seem like the kinda thing a fighter would lose his shit over. You know that.”

  “I haven’t found anything but that. No one seems to know about it.”

  “Who’d he kill?”

  “Castro.”

  “That motherfucker was a punk.”

  “I know,” Connor scoffs.

  Castro was a pain in the ass fighter that also worked as a low level enforcer for the Mancini Crime Family, the same crime family that kidnapped Shannon back in December. Ever since her rescue, a lot of the Mancini Family have been arrested or are in the wind. There are a few hanging around trying to remain in power in their territories, but it’s a failing effort. Russians are taking over along with some street gangs. I stay out of their shit, mostly drugs and guns. Vetrov could have killed Castro for family reasons. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  The fights I run are not refereed. You fight until you can’t. People die in fights, but it’s rare. Beating someone to death takes time unless you land a lucky blow or someone’s fighting injured. Trainers can stop fights if they feel their fighter is done. Again, that rarely happens. Most fights end with someone unconscious or so beaten they give up.

  “Russians got any beef with Barzetti or his family?” I ask. I don’t want business running my fights. If families have issues, they can deal with them in the streets like men, not in my house.

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Make sure. If the Russians are tryin’ to use Vetrov as their long sword they can do it somewhere else.”

  “You got it, boss,” Connor says as he ambles out of my office.

  I peel out of my clothes and throw on some shorts before strapping up my hands, feeling the need for a workout. I miss fighting. It’s been almost two years since my last fight. I’m too fucking old to fight, but it’s hard to convince my heart. Fighting is the only thing I ever did well when I was a kid.

  When my dad was in prison I had to hold my own and that meant a lot of fights. I was good to begin with and even better once Ian found me. He rode my ass hard and didn’t take my angst-filled shit. Instead, he beat my ass and then beat my ass again for good measure. Once I was fifteen he let me start fighting for him. I’ve never lost a fight. Had the shit kicked out of me plenty of times, but I always came out on top.

  As I approach the heavy bag, Owen steps behind it, bracing for impact. I start out slow working up a good sweat before I unleash punishing combinations, pushing Owen back off the bag. I get in a zone when I train. Just me and the bag, no thoughts.

  Owen lets go and I stop, offering him a glare.

  “Boss,” he says, nodding behind me.

  I pivot on my foot to find a Hulk-like man gliding across the room toward me. Owen steps in front of me just as Connor does the same. The Hulk guy may be big, but Connor and Owen together could take him.

  The Hulk stops a few feet away, maintaining eye contact with me, ignoring my men.

  “Mr. Delaney?” he asks in a professional voice.

  “Who the fuck are you?” I respond with a warning in my voice.

  “Alex Vetrov, sir.”

  Mr. Delaney? Sir? This kid has to be joking.

  “Your fight’s not for a few hours. You here to warm up?” I ask in a slightly nicer tone.

  “I’m here for you.” There’s a threatening tone to his voice but not his posture.

  Connor and Owen puff up at the sound. I laugh a loud bark.

  “You wanna get your ass kicked before you fight Barzetti?” Owen growls.

  “I need to speak with Mr. Delaney,” Vetrov replies.

  The kid’s piqued my interest. It takes balls to walk in here unarmed and call me out.

 
; “Let’s go to my office,” I say, moving past the Doyle wall.

  Vetrov follows me while the Doyle brothers follow him. The rest of my crew are standing at the ready, though no one would know that to look at them. They look like a room of fighters and trainers, not armed criminals.

  I open the door to my office and signal with my head for Vetrov to go ahead of me. Once he’s in, I offer Owen a pointed look, letting him know to be ready for whatever goes down. He nods and shuts the door behind me.

  “Have a seat,” I order, coming around my desk and taking my chair.

  Quinn painted the office a dark grey and bought black leather chairs with dark wood furniture. She said it was to make the space feel masculine. It does, and it feels a little like a bat cave, dark and foreboding. My guest doesn’t seem intimidated, not that I expected him to be. The Russians’ walls are probably decorated in blood and trophy heads.

  “They want me to kill you,” Vetrov says in a professional, cool voice.

  “Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s wanted to kill me,” I respond with a shrug.

  My nonchalance at his admission gives me a first glimpse of a crack in his steely demeanor. He looks like Dolph Lundgren, short blond hair, massive body, square face and menacing, deep blue eyes. His tight set lips twitch at my shrug, barely, but it was there.

  “You plannin’ on killin’ me now?” I ask with a quirked brow.

  “No, sir.”

  “You gotta quit that shit. My name’s Kieran. You say sir or mister, I start lookin’ around for cops and attorneys.”

  “It’s a sign of respect.”

  “Respect never comes from words, it comes from actions.”

  “I don’t wanna kill you,” he says, hunching his shoulders forward, leaning his elbows on his knees, dropping his head to his chest in defeat. Kid’s got me curious.

  “That’s good since you couldn’t if you wanted to,” I snark. He snorts but keeps his head bowed. I wait for him to say something. He doesn’t, just sits in the same position.