Page 6 of Yakuza Book Boyfriend

I’ve heard some women talk about the man who made everyone before them irrelevant. Kenji is that man for me. He thrusts long, deep and slow inside me. In and out. Each push and pull starting its own fire, its own set of sparkles all through my body. When he nudges me deep inside? I want to weep. When he retreats and pushes back in? It feels like that very first thrust all over again. I feel delirious with him. His eyes on me, his hands on my tits, hips, ass, spreading my pussy open wider, playing with my folds, my juices, my clit. Sliding through my lips and his own, sharing the taste of me. Oh, God… he’s so fucking nasty… I fucking love it… And when I think I can’t take anymore, he changes the angle, the speed, the strength… until I’m nothing but a shaking, quivering, whaling mess under him. Until I’m so damn ready to come, it’s a miracle I don’t just melt into a puddle. And when I rest my head back against Kenji’s cloud-like pillows, eyes closed, feeling the rise of an orgasm like I’ve never even dreamed about, he grabs me by the hips and plunges deep, hard, fast. Nailing my release into me with each powerful slam of our bodies. Gifting it to me. And sharing his own cries of ecstasy as he spills himself inside. So fucking good…

* * *

Kenji collapses on top of me and I welcome the heavy weight of him, the size of his body. Wrapping a thick thigh around his waist, tiredly running my hands over his warm, soft skin.

I can’t wait to see him in broad daylight. Find out if the midnight of his eyes gets lighter in the sun. If his hair has any hidden hue.

I feel myself drift away with a stupid, girly grin on my lips, wrapped around a dream come true, and thoughts of all our tomorrows swimming through my semi-conscious mind.

But little did I know that would be one of my last peaceful, happy thoughts for a long, long while…

Eight

Kenji

I wake up from passing out on top of Nia like a complete savage, and roll to my back, taking her with me. I can’t hold back the stupid grin on my face. I just fucked my woman long, deep, and fucking good by the way she came all over my dick, cried out my name, and left the marks of her nails on my thighs and forearms. And I’m fucking ready to go again, like some fucking teenager. I shake my head and press a kiss to her temple. She snuggles deeper into my embrace, sighing in content. Fine, I’ll let her sleep.

* * *

I’m abruptly pulled from sleep by loud noises and before even opening my eyes, I know something is wrong. Taking stock of my situation, I’m relieved to realize Nia is still peacefully sleeping in my arms. I give her a brief kiss, then detangle myself from our embrace, making sure to pull back the cover on her naked body.

Silently rummaging in the dark room, I pull my gun from the built-in holster of my suit jacket and tiptoe my way to the bedroom door, listening intently. There it is, heavy footsteps. Inside my place. Where no one is allowed without my express permission.

There are only two options. Whether my men have all been incapacitated, or… The bedroom door flies open, and he fucking steps in. My worst enemy. The man who I live to one day kill. The one who took my father’s life in the most cowardly manner. My uncle. Seita Watanabe. The current head of our family.

His dark eyes, so similar to mine, stare at me through the semi-darkness. We look a lot alike. Same stature, close facial features resemblance. Only years tell us apart. At least on the outside. Because this man’s soul is as fucking rotten as month-old roadkill.

“Uncle,” I greet him in a measured tone. Keeping my voice at a regular volume, not giving him any indication that the woman in my bed is more precious to me than my next breath.

“Another gaijin bitch?” he sneers, his mouth hooking to one side in an infuriating smirk.

But I don’t react. I have all the practice in the world with this piece of shit. I know him like the back of my hand. And we’ve been at this game a long, long time.

* * *

My mother raised me after Seita assassinated my father, his own older brother, to take his place as the head of the Yakuza in the U.S.

She made sure I knew the truth about my father’s legacy and the true circumstances of his death. Found me the best trainers and teachers. And when I was old enough, she ensured I rebuilt my father’s old alliances and readied myself for the day when I would rightfully reclaim my birthright as first-born son. I can’t fucking wait till I can introduce my two badass favorite women in the world to each other.

But for now, looks like the time to deal with this fucker has finally come.

And it’s so fucking weird, because for fucking years I’ve pictured the moment I’d kill him, savoring each second of the anticipation. My imagination running vivid and wild with details. Biding my fucking time. I’ve been ready for fucking years. All my chess pieces, in place. Allies made. Solid friends at my back. The DeLucas, the Maksimovs. Jack fucking Frost. The minute this asshole falls, all I’ll have to do is dust off his throne and settle in. But that was the problem, right? After more than two decades spent honing my plan and setting everything in motion, I was almost paralyzed thinking about how empty my life would be after my unique goal was reached.

Fuck, you came stirring shit on the wrong fucking night, motherfucker. Just when I fucking find my girl, my purpose. I almost scoff. Almost. But my implacable mask is firmly in place.

“I had to stop by,” he sneers. “Heard you found magic pussy. Fucking brought a bitch to your precious home?”

Yeah, that too. Never brought a girl in my house before Nia. I fuck outside or at their place. But this is not a fuck, and there’s no way I’m letting this snake find that out. He will fucking try to hurt Nia if he has even the smallest inkling of what she means to me.

I take slow, measured breaths, keeping my heartbeat steady, my voice neutral.

“Just some chick I found at Maksimov’s place,” I respond, and each word fucking shreds my heart.

“Oh, really?”

“Maybe I should get dressed if you wanna have a conversation. Let me get the girl out.”

I turn to my bed and gear up to do something that’s gonna sully my soul worse than all the blood I have on my hands. Leaning over Nia, I shake her without ceremony.

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