Deviant Knight (The New American Mafia #3) Read Online N.E. Henderson

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: The New American Mafia Series by N.E. Henderson
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
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How does a man get over the first woman he ever loved?

I didn’t get to say goodbye to my mother. When I watched her coffin lower into the ground, I swore I’d never love another that deeply again.
I didn’t have to. I found solace in the opposite.
Krishna is hard like me. I keep him at arm’s length no matter how much I prefer him in my bed. Together, we can be whatever we want. The monsters we keep at bay to avoid someone getting hurt can come out to play with each other. My life was stable, controllable. Then my father issued an order I wasn’t expecting—a bride.
Ciera is soft, but her eyes are constantly challenging my authority. She has a backbone that only shows when her smart mouth is telling me off. I’ve never wanted a woman aside from the physical release they provide, but the moment my dark gaze fell on her emerald stare, I wanted to wrap my hand around her pretty little throat and claim her as mine.
I can’t let her be my downfall. I can’t allow them to be my undoing. I won’t make my father’s past mistakes. I won’t lose those I vowed to protect.

FULL BOOK START HERE:

Sienna - see-en-uh

Matteo - mat-te-o

Domenico - duh-men-i-koh

Krishna - krish-nuh

Nikolayev - nik-uh-lie-of

Capisce - ca-peesh

Stepan - step’an

a pheata - ah-fat-ah (means “pet”)

Kovaçi - co-vah-chi

Avtoritet: av-to—ri-tet

Sidet - see-DYEHT' (means sit)

Myesto - MJE-sto (means stay)

CHAPTER 1

DOMENICO

The first time I got a hard-on, I was fourteen. A late bloomer I’m sure compared to other boys, but I’d steered clear of girls for the most part. The way I dressed and the method in which I stared at people scared any sane chick. They gave me a wide berth, and that was exactly what I wanted.

When I was twelve, Krishna and Sasha joined the mixed martial arts training center my father had taken my siblings and me to for a few years. K is a year older than me, so he was thirteen at the time. I hated that they were poaching on my turf. I had always known who he was since we attended the same private school, but that didn’t mean I was okay with being in the same vicinity as him outside school grounds. Back then, I didn’t give two shits about his sister, Sasha. Maybe if I had, then I would have noticed my brother’s infatuation with her before it came to light that he’d married the Russian-American Bratva princess in secret two years ago.

I had just started my eighth-grade year when Krishna was a freshman at the high school in another building on the same campus. He wasn’t taller than me back then, not having hit a growth spurt yet. We mirrored in stature and weight, and after avoiding each other at the gym, our coach made us pair up for a training session. I’m sure he thought it would help mature our minds and teach us a lesson in controlling our egos and our tempers.

Only that’s not what grew. With my back on the mat, his body between my thighs, and my legs wrapped around his hips with my ankles locked to keep him from getting away, my cock thickened. I hadn’t expected that to happen. Hatred spurred from within me as I squeezed my thighs around his waist tighter than what was acceptable in class. We weren’t supposed to hurt our opponent in that particular class.

We weren’t wearing Gi’s, only T-shirts and rash guard shorts. With my teenage cock pressed against his cotton-covered abdominal muscles, I would have sworn on my life they contracted at the contact. I was caught off guard, but Krishna, he fucking smirked before using my distracted state against me.

At some point, my ankles loosened their hold. Krishna quickly unwrapped my legs and then flipped me so that my back was to his front. He righted us into a seated position, this time with his legs knotted around my middle as he pulled me firmly against him. His arms were looped around my neck like thick chains, choking me, and that’s when I felt it—his dick twitched against my lower back.

Goose bumps broke out across my skin as tingles cascaded their way through my system. I still remember the feel of his labored breath in my ear. It shook me to my core. What he whispered made me come inside my boxers, right there on the mat, in the middle of the gym, among our peers and coach: You don’t want to go down this road, pretty boy. I’ll consume you, and then I’ll forget you exist. His hot breath fanned down my neck and vibrated through my ear.

That’s not the hardest I’ve ever come, but the memory sure makes me think it was. Nothing happened after that, at least not until my first year of college, and even then, it was a one-time thing. It wasn’t supposed to occur again, but it did a year ago.


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