Roxanne (The Italian Cartel Book 2)

by Shandi Boyes

  My moans whizz out of my nose, forced there by Dimitri’s dick commanding every inch of my throat. He pumps in and out of me, burying himself deeper with every thrust. He face-fucks me until I forget this is supposed to be about getting him off. His dirty words, the taste of his scrumptious cock, and the tight grip he has on my hair has me right there with him, on the very peak of the cliff, ready to fall, but I hold back, remembering he needs this as much as me. Keeping your head above water is exhausting in general, let alone when you’re dealing with all the shit Dimitri is. I doubt he’s let go of the reins like this in months, if not years.

  “Look at me.”

  My hands fly out to get a grip on Dimitri’s thighs when the collision of our eyes sees him losing control. With his head thrown back and his hand holding my mouth hostage to his cock, he pumps into me two more times before the saltiness of his cum floods my tongue.

  Giving head isn’t supposed to have this level of fireworks associated with it. I never enjoyed doing it to my college boyfriends and usually spat out evidence of their excitement within a second of their bodies expelling it, but this time around, I suck it down as if it’s liquid gold, moaning when its slipperiness soothes the burn of my throat from my hearty screams.

  I’ve hardly mollified the blister when I’m plucked from the ground, spun around, then curled over the kitchen counter. My knees knock when the lowering of Dimitri’s hand to my pussy is quickly chased by a growl. “You’re still swollen. If I take you now, you’ll be all types of fucked by sunrise.” My knees join for any entirely different reason when he adds, “Perhaps that’s the solution to your disobedience? Maybe I should hurt you so bad, the only thing you’ll consider doing today is soaking in a tub for hours on end.”

  My worry he’s reneging on his offer doesn’t linger for long. His fingers are too wondrous to instigate any emotions not fueled by need. He drags them through the folds of my clenching sex before circling them around the nub dying for his attention. “You’re so fucking wet for me. You are dripping like my head didn’t leave your cunt the past hour.”

  I don’t respond. I can’t. He’s barely touching me, and I’m on the cusp of a climax.

  “You better get a heap louder than that if you want me to give you permission to come.”

  He doesn’t need to ask me twice. I moan like I’m possessed while grinding down on his hand as if it’s as ribbed as his cock.

  “Please,” I beg a short time later. “I need…”

  “Me,” Dimitri fills in like anyone else is on my mind. “Because that’s all you’re going to get from here on out. Me and only me. Do you hear me, Roxanne?”

  Sweat rolls down my cheeks when I frantically nod. It’s more submissive than when I was on my knees being fed his cock one marvelous inch at a time, but he still wants more.

  “Say it.”

  “You,” I squawk like a canary, my fantasies shattered by a reality better than any dream. “I’ll only ever want you.”

  Dimitri pinches my clit until my every sense is being held captive by a madman. “And the walking out part? What about that?”

  He’s still worried about that?

  Before I can answer my unvoiced question, Dimitri asks one of his own, “Has that left your head yet, or do I need to be more persuasive?”

  I’m torn on how to answer. I want to say no, hoping I’ll discover exactly how alpha he is, but I also want to come. It’s blistering inside me, burning as effectively as the burn my lips endured while sucking him off.

  With my libido overriding all my senses, I take the coward’s route. “It’s left my head—”

  My pathetic show of womanhood is cut off by a gravelly, accented voice. Although it’s oddly similar to the one towering over me with the command of a caveman, it sends a chill scattering through me. It isn’t a good shudder. I’ve only heard this voice once before. It was when he instructed me to turn around so he could see my eyes while he killed me.

  Hell has been left unoccupied again. Except this time, the imp isn’t walking the corridors of a hospital seeking new recruits, he’s visiting his son.

  “Eyes to the floor.” When my eyes instinctively lift to Dimitri, panicked by the fury in his gruff tone, his jaw tightens. “Eyes to the fucking floor!”

  Their fast drop fills my hazy head with dizziness, but the cloud isn’t thick enough to miss me watching Dimitri raise his hand in the air in threat. He’s seconds from striking me, and I’m at a complete loss as to why.

  With my submissiveness on display for all to see, Dimitri grunts something about how frustrating it is for him to put the help in their place before he demands me to clean up the mess I made.

  Confident I won’t defy him for the second time, he yanks up his trousers huddled around his ankles, then hightails it in the direction his father’s voice came from.

  Eleven

  Dimitri

  “If that’s your idea of a punishment, I’m disappointed. If the help isn’t smelling of blood by the time you’ve showed her the ropes, you let her off easy.” My father jerks his chin to the kitchen I’m in the process of forcefully removing him from. “I can smell her cunt from here.” The frantic pump of his nostrils makes me want to gut him where he stands. “I guess I can understand your change-up. Even I may be tempted to offer leniency for a smell that sweet.”

  When he pivots back around, I grip his arm with enough force, I’m certain he’ll be wearing my marks as long as Roxanne’s ass. “She isn’t close to repaying her debt, and I’m not willing to share her until she has.” When my father’s brows bow, I realize my error. By admitting I want her, his interest in Roxanne tripled in an instant. “She cooks like Ma. Even with her cunt being greedy for a pounding, I’m considering sending her to Petrettis to show them how it’s done before shipping her to her buyer.”

  For a man his age, my father should have more wrinkles on his face than he does when he cocks his brow. “Good cooking skills are to blame for your pants being wrapped around your ankles?”

  It takes everything I have not to retaliate to the mirth in his tone. “She fucked up. I wanted my dick sucked. I took advantage of the situation. Sue me.”

  He laughs in a way that makes my skin crawl, though it has nothing on my reaction when he says, “What can I say? You take after me with more than looks.”

  The Petretti genes are strong, but this is the last fucking thing I want to hear.

  After guiding him into my downstairs office, I gesture to him to take a seat in the chair opposite my desk. Forever willing to test the boundaries, he opts to sit in my chair, instead. He thinks he’s smart. In reality, he’s an idiot. I use this office for nothing but fucking, purely because of him. He can snoop all he likes down here because he’ll never find a single shred of evidence about either my operation or my daughter.

  As he scans the fake business documents on my desk, he slouches low into my chair. He doesn’t even try to hide his snooping. To him, this is his realm. I merely live in it.

  Confident the articles aren’t of interest to him, he locks his eyes with mine. “I have some very dissatisfied customers.” I assume he’s referencing Theresa Veneto’s numerous requests to meet with me. Although she was scarce with details when Rocco organized our meeting for later today, she did hint that it was concerning an unfavorable purchase she made from the Petretti entity but am proven wrong when he nudges his head to the hall we just walked. “She created quite the kerfuffle, only for her sale to be canceled because her seller couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.”

  “As far as the buyers are concerned, her sale was umbrellaed under your entity of our family. That means I was entitled to bid as a buyer.” With my tone much too possessive for my liking, I try another tactic. “You said it yourself. Her cunt smells like candy. I wanted to see if it tasted the same.”

  Imagine a perverted old guy grabbing his dick while watching kids play in a playground. That will give you an idea of the sleazy look on my father’s face when he asks, “Does it?
”

  The egotistical side of my head wants to say Roxanne’s cunt is the tastiest dish I’ve ever sampled, but my business side shuts it down. Acting as if I can’t stand Roxanne won’t just favor me, it will keep her safe as well.

  “If it were, do you think she’d be cooking me breakfast?”

  He doesn’t want to believe me, but I’ve given him no reason not to. “If it’s that bad, ship her to the next candidate. Dr. Bates will be more than happy to wade through your slops.”

  The mentioned name pisses me off to no end. “As I said earlier, until her debt is paid in full, she’s not going anywhere.”

  Not even a man as arrogant as my father could deny the ownership in my voice this time around. It has his lips begging to hitch into a smirk, but for some reason, he holds it back.

  “Very well. Do with her as you wish.”

  He stands from my seat before buttoning the middle button of his business suit jacket. Considering the hour, I’m going to assume he’s about to turn in for the night. Most of the load in this industry is done at night. It’s why I rarely sleep.

  “But I’ll expect your check on my desk by close of business today. If she were mine to sell, I expect dividends from her sale.”

  I want to believe the swift end of our conversation is because money comes before anything to my father. However, my gut is advising me not to be stupid. He knows as well as I do that Roxanne’s auction was only the tip of the iceberg in her earnings. If this were purely about profit, he’d milk her for all she’s worth.

  As confident I’ll jump to his command as rapidly as Roxanne does mine, he dips his chin before exiting my office via a concealed entrance. It isn’t an entrance many people know about, but it’s the only clue I need as to why the scent of Roxanne’s juices on my hand is being overridden by an emasculating perfume.

  “Entering a man’s house uninvited warrants him permission to shoot you.”

  The shadow I’m glaring at switches on the lamp next to the single chair she’s seated in before she strays her eyes to mine. “I’m an invited guest.”

  I shoot Theresa a stern look, warning her I’m not in the mood for her games. “You were instructed to arrive at ten o’clock, not enter my house at an ungodly hour.”

  I’m tempted to gouge her eyes out when she drinks in my shirtless form with a prolonged gawk. It’s clear what she’s here for, so I make it just as clear I’m not interested.

  “You stole thirty thousand dollars’ worth of uncut coke from me. Even if I could forget that, we’ll never mess the sheets.” I lock our eyes, ensuring she can see the truth in mine when I say, “I don’t fuck women I plan to kill.”

  She smiles like her life isn’t on the line. “That isn’t what I hear. Supposedly, that’s your thing now.”

  Aware of her attractiveness, she rakes her teeth over her lower lip. I won’t lie, she could give half the whores in my arsenal a run for their money. She just needs to thaw out her icy insides first. Not even hard-ass men like me want to bed a heartless woman.

  “I wonder if you’ll change your mind when I share the information I’ve unearthed about your father the past month?”

  My lips tuck in the corner. I should have known her early visit isn’t purely about whetting her sexual appetite. If the law can’t catch my father, they side with him. When they get burned, they come running to me.

  “I’m done fixing my father’s mistakes…” My words trail off when Theresa holds a photograph into the light. It’s the same image she handed Rocco earlier this week. “The bad can turn good just as easily as the good can turn bad.” I don’t hold back my arrogant smirk this time around. “You should know that better than anyone.”

  Theresa is as corrupt as they come. The only reason she hasn’t done time is because she has one of those golden pussies Clover mentioned weeks ago. It’s got nothing on Roxanne’s, but I can see how it could make some men do whatever she asks.

  “Your father is cashing in favors he’ll never repay, and here you are, acting ignorant to a Russian invasion.”

  My laugh echoes around my office. “A Russian invasion, my ass. The last time that happened, Vladimir—”

  “Found out his wife birthed a child with your father.”

  I take an involuntary step back. I hate that I allowed my shock to be seen, but there was too much honesty in her tone for a nonchalant response.

  Theresa soaks up my surprise as if it’s whiskey, and she’s an alcoholic. “This can’t be the first time you’ve heard about illegitimate siblings, surely. I know of at least three.”

  She’s right. My family has faced rumors about my father’s infidelities for decades—baby mamas included—but this is the first time the rumblings included someone who could possibly steal my crown before I’ve sat on my throne.

  “Male or female?” I don’t know why the fuck I’m contemplating this. If he or she wants to contest my position, bring it on. I’ll take them down as well as I did their predecessors. I guess a part of my curiosity can be blamed on the fact the last time the Petrettis and Popovs went to war was the year before I was born. If an extramarital affair is the cause of this, there are rules not even I can break because this time around, a coup won’t just get me killed, it will take down my daughter as well.

  I want to pretend I don’t recognize the face of the man Theresa brings up on her phone, but unfortunately, you’d have to be dead the past decade not to know him. The Popovs are loud, proud, and Vladimir’s second eldest son soaks up the attention for all it’s worth.

  Nikolai Popov is a media whore.

  He’s also four months older than me.

  Fuck it!

  After working my jaw side to side, I play it cool. “Unfounded rumors like this will get you killed quicker than theft.”

  Theresa paces my way, her hips extra swingy. The fact she thinks I can be led by my cock pisses me off more than her presumption I’d want to get freaky with her. “Who said it’s unfounded?”

  When she’s within touching distance, I grip her throat with everything I have. Like the dumb fuck she is, she gets turned on by my hold instead of fearing it. That’s why we played well when we did. She’s as kinky as she is corrupt.

  A liar would tap out within seconds, a woman seeking a cheap thrill would have tears springing down her eyes shortly after that. Only someone with nothing to fear would return my glare without the slightest bit of sheen in her eyes.

  Regretfully, that someone is Theresa.

  She gives it her all not to answer the screaming protests of her lungs when I loosen my grip on her throat before tossing her to the other side of my office. She loses her fight when she lands on her backside with a thud. She won’t stay down. She will quietly lick her wounds before kicking me in the gut with the three-inch heels she’s wearing. That’s her way.

  Before her pumps can get anywhere near my stomach, I mutter, “Tell me what you want before I add visible wounds to your hidden ones.”

  For once, she pays attention to the angst in my tone. It’s for the best. I wasn’t joking. I hate killing women, but I’ll make an exception for her. “I want the same thing you do, Dimi. Revenge.”

  Even having no knowledge of the inner-workings of women whatsoever doesn’t spare me from knowing who her comment refers to. Women get their panties in a real twist when their baby daddies don’t come to the party for child support, much less when they deny paternity all together.

  As a smirk curls my lips, I prop my backside onto my desk and fold my arms in front of my chest. I can’t believe it took me this long to slot the pieces of the puzzle together. This isn’t a turf war. It’s a law enforcement officer learning she can’t always have things her way. I only fucked her to have her looking past illegal shipments, yet she still responded to her deputy’s wish to deepthroat my cock with the contempt of a scorned woman, so I can only imagine how she feels knowing her baby daddy is moving on.

  “As I told you years ago, the Petrettis don’t meddle with custody disputes.�
� Before she can call me out as a liar, I add, “Unless you want Isaac Holt to go on an extended vacation, we have no business.”

  “His girlfriend is Russian. She has Popov blood running through her veins. How can you not be worried about this?”

  I give her a look, warning her she better keep herself in check. I’m already pissed I left Roxanne hanging mid-orgasm. I don’t need more annoyances heating my blood. “Because if I thought she was a threat, I would have held back her transfer the instant you forced it through the system.”

  Now Theresa is the one balking. If she thinks I’m so stupid not to look a little deeper into her sudden return to my state, the act I worked on her was as legitimate as the one I hit Audrey with when she stated she didn’t want to date someone in my ‘lifestyle.’

  “You brought Isabelle here for a reason… what was it?”

  Theresa strives to shut down the jealousy blazing through her eyes, but she’s not quite quick enough. “She was supposed to go undercover—”

  “Not fall for the mark?” Her lack of denial reveals I hit the nail on the head.

  My next set of words are barely audible since they’re cloaked with laughter. “I’m sorry you got thrown out on your ass, but a bruised ego isn’t something I can help you with.”

  I’m also not eager to go against Isaac again. It isn’t that I’m afraid of him. I just learned that karma can gnaw the wrong ass when you attempt to get out of a fucked-up situation in a half-assed way. CJ hasn’t been the same since their rigged fight, Ophelia is dead, and Roberto’s hiding out as Isaac’s dish hand. Those fucked-up set of circumstances would keep the deadliest man on the straight and narrow.

  My last comment holds my attention a little longer than it should. I can’t be accused of fucking with karma if Isaac stirred the pot first. Alas, I’ve got enough on my plate, so I’m not interested in anything Theresa is selling. Wasn’t years ago. Certainly am not now.