Caelian: Dark Mafia Romance, page 1
Caelian
DARK SOVEREIGN
BOOK SEVEN
BELLA J.
Contents
Also by Bella J.
Foreword
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Untitled
VIP Club
About the Author
Copyright ©2024 by Bella J
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual living or dead person, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
Also by Bella J.
Dark Sovereign
(Mafia Romance)
Alexius
His Wife
Unraveled
Nicoli
His Queen
Unveiled
Club Myth
(Forbidden Romance)
Bared Betrayal
Primal Pursuit
Vows and Vengeance Duet
(Arranged Marriage, enemies-to-lovers)
Devil’s Vow
Devil’s Vengeance
The Sins of Saint Trilogy
(Kidnapping, Mafia Romance)
Rise of Saint
Fall of Sin
Sins of Saint
The Twisted Duet
(Enemies-to-lovers romance)
Blood and Lies (Twisted Duet, Book 1)
Blood and Vows (Twisted Duet, Book 2)
American Street Kings
(MC Romance)
Depraved
Deranged
Destroyed
Reckless
(Forbidden, age-gap Romance)
To Touch You
To Hate You
Foreword
Caelian is book 7 in the Dark Sovereign series.
No previous books need to be read to enjoy this one, but for a better understanding of the world and to get to know the other characters, I do recommend you start with book 1, Alexius.
This is a dark romance. Some scenes and situations may affect sensitive readers.
I don’t want to spoil anything for those who don’t have any triggers. But if you’d like more information regarding possible triggers, please visit my website.
Prologue
CAELIAN
One year ago
The mask clings to my face, a second skin of dark intentions.
My breath is steady, controlled, but beneath the tailored suit that binds my flesh, my cock pulses with a life of its own.
This game, this hunt, it’s a symphony to me, and every woman who runs through the field is a note in a crescendo of lust.
The scent of grass and the prickle of excitement fill the air as I move through the shadows, stalking my prey with calculated precision. Every movement is deliberate, part of a carefully orchestrated performance to seduce and conquer. And at this moment, I am the conductor of this twisted orchestra, reveling in every beat and pulse of ecstasy.
“What a sight,” I murmur as they bolt like deer—elegant, swift, beautiful.
They’re all wearing the same black masks covering half their faces, their bodies cloaked in black linen dresses that flow from their shoulders to their knees.
Every one of them is naked underneath those dresses. It’s the rule of the hunt.
Wear the black dresses provided. No underwear. Because the moment they get caught, they’re fucked—pun intended.
The night air crackles with electricity. There’s no begging, no pleading. Silence reigns, save for the beat of our hearts and the rustle of leaves underfoot.
Everyone here is a willing participant, men and women who embrace our true, most primal nature.
To hunt.
To be hunted.
To fuck.
The field stretches before me, an expanse of possibilities shrouded by the delicate glow of moonlight. There’s a tang of earth and pine in the air, blending with the potent scent of adrenaline and desire that dances on the breeze. It’s intoxicating, a natural aphrodisiac fueling my hunger, driving my need to pick my prey, hunt her, claim her, capture her, and take her like we’re animals—beasts and monsters of the night.
“Remember, ladies,” a fellow hunter to my left yells, his voice a velvet threat that cuts through the quiet, “we catch, you surrender.”
No answer comes, just the whispering leaves speaking through the late-night autumn breeze.
There’s always that one fucker who likes to narrate through the entire hunt like he’s trying to prove he’s the lion with the bigger balls. Like he’s the one every prey around here should fear.
But me? I wear stealth like a well-tailored suit, and silence becomes the knife I hold against every throat. During these hunts, I’m not Caelian Del Rossa. I’m not a pillar of the Dark Sovereign. I’m a man who needs the thrill of the chase and the spoils of victory.
My gaze sharpens as I scan the darkened landscape, every sense attuned to the game.
A glimmer of movement catches my eye. Through the dancing light and shadows, I see a figure in a mask, her dark curls bouncing in the night wind.
She moves with purpose and grace, darting between the trees like a wild animal. The fabric of her black dress ripples around her toned body, highlighting every curve and muscle. She seems almost ethereal, like a creature from another world that has stepped into ours for just a moment.
Like a magnet drawn to steel, my every instinct is pulled toward her.
I adjust my mask, ensuring obscurity, then move—silent, determined, my senses razor-sharp. There isn’t a second I don’t keep my eyes on her.
As I close in on her, my breath quickens, and my heart pounds in sync with the thuds of my footfalls on the damp earth. Cloaked in the shadows, I know she can’t see me. But she senses me, feels how my hunger for her closes the distance between us. I’ve mastered my skills in reading the signs, the hidden messages in the way my prey tries to break free from the pursuit.
But this one…she’s different.
It’s how she moves—calculated, precise, using every shadow to her advantage. Her feet are light, barely touching the ground as she sprints, weaving through the night like she’s the predator out for a kill. Her confidence, it’s fucking intoxicating, igniting a spark of excitement in me that I haven’t felt in far too long.
This exquisite creature is my ultimate prey. The unholiest of grails.
Mine.
Her pheromones ensnare me like a web, beckoning me closer. As any skilled hunter would, I answer her call without hesitation.
My dick strains against my pants, aching for that exquisite creature whose ivory skin gleams in the moonlight when she dares a glance back. I can’t remember the last time I’ve wanted a hunt as badly as I do now.
She’s slippery, almost elusive. But her apparent skill still isn’t good enough to outwit me. Perfected by years of practice and the primal urge that throbs deep within the dark corners of my humanity, I know that by the end of the night she’ll be mine.
My gaze sharpens, and I see the junction ahead. A fork in the path, a glimpse of black on black as she changes direction, and suddenly, she’s gone.
I stop for a moment, scanning the trees around me, searching for any sign of movement. But there’s only the rustle of leaves, footsteps in the distance I know aren’t hers.
A different prey.
One I don’t want.
I want her. The one whose gaze I can feel on my back.
A thrill pulses through my veins as I search the darkness for any sign of her, and I can’t help but smile as I move forward. Does she think she’s won, outsmarted me?
“Oh, this game isn’t over,” I whisper into the darkness. “Not by a longshot.”
I ease forward, hyperaware of my surroundings. I know she’s close. I can feel it in the way the air crackles with awareness.
The distinct snap of a twig grabs my attention.
There’s a flicker of movement ahead, and, without hesitating, I give chase, barely able to make out her form in the dark.
Adrenaline surges, racing through me as I close the distance between us.
Her dark curls flip in the wind as she runs, her footfalls hard and desperate. She moves with an almost predatory grace, and by God, it makes my dick hard.
I chase her through the shadows, my breath ragged and my heart pounding. The chase is just as exhilarating as the catch, the thrill of the hunt burning in the pit of my stomach. I can feel my mask slipping, but I don’t care. I need her.
She sidesteps one of the oak tree stumps but acted too late, trying to slice to the left. Her foot knocks against the bark, and she stumbles.
I take advantage of her moment of vulnerability, lunging forward and wrapping my arms around her, pulling her back against my chest and lifting her feet off the ground.
She tries to claw at me, kicking her legs, desperate to get free. But she doesn’t scream. She doesn’t make a sound except for her breaths coming out in rapid spurts.
“You’re strong,” I grunt in her ear, my grip tightening around her waist. “I like that.”
She lets out something close to a growl, the sound shooting straight to my cock.
I find it endearing, the way she fights. It makes the chase worthwhile. Her body moves in a fluid, nearly hypnotic dance as she struggles. Her sweet rebellion begs me to take control, but there’s a hint of desire in her resistance. It’s a tantalizing game of cat and mouse, with every move she makes daring me to do my worst.
She wants to run.
She wants to escape.
But at the same time, she craves to submit.
I pull her in tighter, relishing the feel of her body pressed against mine, when she sinks her teeth into my arm.
“Fuck!” I release my grip on her but quickly lunge forward.
I tackle her, and she grunts on impact, her breath billowing out in a soft gasp as we fall to the ground. Just like her sharp bite, she reveals more of her strength. Underneath the fiery defiance, she’s a wild creature craving to be tamed.
She flails and fights back as I grab her ankles and use them to propel myself forward. I climb over her, straddling her, squeezing her delicate hips with my thighs, and pin her wrists against the ground above her head.
I have her.
Pinned.
She gasps as I lower myself onto her, my weight pressing against her body. She can feel my arousal, my size, pressing against her hip. As she moans softly, it pulsates against her skin.
A gasp escapes her lips as I settle on top of her, my weight bearing down on her form, letting her feel how hard I am, causing her to softly moan in response. My cock throbs against her with each breath I take.
Our gazes lock.
For a second, I’m frozen. The blue of her eyes shimmering like broken glass under the moonlight is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. Her mask conceals enough to taunt, and I don’t need to remove it to know this creature is beyond exquisite.
She squirms beneath me, panting, and I thrust my cock against her, her lips parting in a ragged gasp.
I lean forward, breathing in her scent, a mix of Turkish rose, patchouli, blackcurrant, and those sinful desires that have been stoked into existence. It’s exotic and intoxicating, and I already know I’ll never get enough of it.
I move again, this time slow and deliberate, wanting her to feel every inch of me as I tease her with what’s to come.
She struggles against me, pretending to want to escape while her hips roll underneath me like she’s searching for more.
“You know the rules,” I whisper. “Get caught. Get fucked. It’s the natural order of things.”
I take both her wrists in one hand, pressing them down in the dirt above her head.
Our gazes remain locked, her lips full, round, that perfect Cupid’s bow teasing the fuck out of me.
The silent forest around us becomes our stage as I grind my hips against hers, the friction nearly enough to make me come.
My free hand slides up her smooth thigh, higher and higher until I’m brushing against the soft flesh of her naked cunt.
Wet. Primed. Ready.
Hearing her sharp intake of breath as I touch her is a satisfying reward all on its own.
I don’t take my eyes off her. My fingers glide effortlessly through the moisture, teasing and testing her limits. The sounds she makes is borderline erotic torture.
I know how to stroke and tease, how to slide and touch, expertly stoking the flame just enough to keep her desperate for more, but not enough to get her off.
She bucks beneath me, a fierce desperation blossoming in her eyes as she bites down on her lower lip. She’s caught now. Caught and trapped under me, pinned down by this primal instinct to claim and fuck. To let the world evaporate while we drown in ecstasy.
My lips part with a heavy breath as I sink a single digit inside her. Jesus, she’s soaked, tight, her pussy ripe and ready just for me.
Her back arches, her body so fucking responsive. Desperate, even.
“You’re eager,” I drawl, stroking her wetness with two fingers now.
She bites back a moan but grinds down against my hand.
I trace my nose up the curve of her throat, inhaling deep. “What’s your name?”
She slowly moves her head from side to side.
It’s against the rules to exchange names. These hunting parties aren’t for socializing. It’s a fuck-fest and nothing more. But for some reason, I want to know who she is, what her parents call her, because I want to say it out loud when I make her come around my cock.
“Do you always follow the rules?”
Again, she moves her head from side to side. Slower this time. Her lips turn upward slightly, a teasing smirk haloed by two hot-as-fuck dimples just below her flushed cheeks.
“What if I say I won’t fuck you if you don’t tell me your name?”
Abruptly, she twists her wrists in my grip, freeing her right arm, arching her back as she reaches between us, cups my cock, and squeezes it roughly.
I suck in a breath, every nerve ending in my body erupting with lust and chaos.
I growl, closing my eyes briefly before looking at her again. Her blue eyes blaze with a daring challenge, but she remains stubbornly silent.
I thrust forward, trapping her hand between our bodies as I move against her palm, needing the friction, relief of the tension that’s been building since I first caught sight of her.
She lifts her legs, knees bent, and hastily claws at my pants zipper.
“Safeword,” I demand, bolts of electricity zapping up my spine every time her hand brushes against me.
She shakes her head again and bites her bottom lip as she slips her hand into my pants and wraps her fingers around my length.
“Fuck.” I pull my hand from between her legs, slamming my fist into the damn earth, and I have to hold my breath to stop myself from coming. “You better give me a safeword now, or I will fuck you without one.”
Those perfect, plump lips of hers part, her shoulder moving downward as she guides my cock to her entrance. Her defiance is intoxicating. Add the feel of her wet heat to the equation, and this woman is nothing short of lethal to my self-control.
“Last chance,” I warn, moving just enough to give her the tip, causing a soft whimper to pass her lips.
She arches and cranes her neck back, her delicate throat bathed in the moonlight forming the most beautiful sight. I act on desire alone as I lean down, dragging my tongue from the hollow of her throat all the way up to her chin. If heaven had a taste, this woman’s skin would be it.
“Name. Now,” I demand.
Her response is to roll her hips, pushing her body down and forcing another inch of my cock inside her, severing the last thin thread of my control.
I thrust into her with one hard and deep stroke, buried to the hilt.
She cries out, the night air carrying the shrill of her delicious pain as I fill her to the brim. A flutter of chaos erupts in the sky as birds burst from their nests while her body arches against me.
A shudder rips through me. She feels so fucking good, I have no idea how long I’ll be able to hold out. The sensation is overwhelming, like every fiber of her being was designed specifically for mine. I know I won’t be able to resist much longer. It’s as if she was molded to fit me perfectly, a puzzle piece finally finding its rightful place.
“Jesus,” I growl. “You’re so fucking tight.” Even with her pussy drenched, there’s a resistance that squeezes me, tightening like a velvet vise.
I grit my teeth against the riot of pleasure, and I pull back, digging my shoes into the earth so I can push forward and drive deeper into her.
Another cry tears from her throat.
I let go of her wrist, clamping my hand over her mouth. There are hunters all around us, and the last thing I want is to share this beautiful creature with any of them. She’s mine, and mine alone.
For tonight.
She grabs at the ground, fingers digging into the dirt as she fights, her breath coming in short, warm gasps against my hand. I can feel her body trembling beneath me, her muscles vibrating with tension that needs release. The way she clenches her thighs against my hips, I don’t know if she’s trying to pull me in deeper or push me out of her.
