by Coco Miller
I run my hands over his well-defined chest and then down the hard planes of his stomach. Carmine tightens his grip around me as I lean in and kiss one of his scars. The ink along his torso calls to me, and I trace over that too.
“Is that why the dragon on your chest is eating itself, Carmine?” I ask. “Is that how you feel about yourself? About your life because of your family?”
Carmine shrugs a bit. “It’s the crest of my sect of the family. The sect my father used to run. I thought that if people saw the crest on my body, if I went to prison someday, no one would ever touch me because they’d know the firestorm from hell it would bring down on them.
“I was eighteen when I got it done. The first piece I marked myself with. I think it made my father equally as proud as he was pissed. Being a made man wasn’t about having cool cars and getting the best seat in the restaurant. It wasn’t about people looking at you like you were untouchable. It was about running over anyone and everything in your path regardless of the destruction. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy of endless pain.”
“It’s what you wanted?”
“Absolutely. I’ll make no apologies for my choices. I’ve always wanted this. It’s just that there is a price to pay for the power. There’s always a price.
“Like what?”
“There were these girls that used to try and get in with the guys. Either for protection or money or just to fucking be in. This girl Celine was real pretty, but shy. She used to work at one of the restaurants that ran a front for my father. She was poor. Worked as a bus girl every day after school until close. But she was really fucking pretty so stupid me as a horny teenager thought nothing of that. I used to walk her to her house because it was late, and I liked her.
“She read poetry didn’t seem to care about what fucking symbols followed me around. She was just this normal girl who didn’t want anything other than to laugh with me. So naturally, like all things in my life, my father decided to destroy that, too.
“It was my 19th birthday and I walked in to the living room expecting the usual celebration of cake and gifts out the ass like any other year, but it was kind of dark and my dad was standing there with Celine except she didn’t look like the girl I knew. She was wearing clothes that were too old for her—too tight—too short—too sheer. She had makeup on her face and she never wore makeup a day I knew her. He was so proud of himself, smiling at me as he pushed her forward and said, ‘Happy birthday, Carmine. Heir to the Volta throne.’
“I asked her what was going on, but he answered for her telling me that Celine had been caught stealing money from the restaurant—aka him—and that she had a debt to pay. I told him I’d pay him the money, to take it out of my allowance, but he just laughed at me and said, “What’s the matter, Carmine? Are you afraid of a little whore’s pussy? You never have a piece yet?”
I can still see the rage of what happened in Carmine’s eyes.
“He lifted up her dress and touched her. She started to cry, and I got pissed off but knew that I couldn’t be a punk in front of him. Nor could I protect her from him because it was...him. I just started laughing. I laughed at her and I laughed at him and I told him I didn’t want to fuck an ugly girl like her. That I’d rather fuck a pig than fuck someone as ugly and trashy as her. I thought he'd just tell her to leave. That it would save her. But . . . it didn’t.”
I gasp as he stops. “What happened to her? What did he make you do?”
“I didn’t do anything, and I never saw her again after that. I’m not sure what happened but knowing him it wasn’t good. I hate that the last words she ever heard me say to her was that I thought she was trash.”
He sucks in a deep breath and blows it out hard.
“Any fuckin way, when I left I got this shit tattooed on my chest as a reminder. As a fuck you to him. As a fuck you to myself for not being stronger and dealing with him how I should of.”
I try to swallow down his words as I stare at him. Across his body full of scars. Into his eyes that are always so dark. I lean down and kiss the bullet scars first then move to where he was cut by knives and God knows what else given his lifestyle and upbringing.
I let Carmine lead me back up to his mouth as we fall into a deep kiss. He brushes my hair away from my face and holds my head with his palm as he keeps bringing me back to him, keeping his eyes on me as I fall deeper and deeper into him, hypnotized by his stare and gentle, loving touch.
He rolls us over, keeping his hold around me as he says, “I think that I love you, Jasmine.”
I swallow as he stares down at me. “I’m pretty sure I love you, too, Carmine. I love that I can trust you this much—to give myself to you like this—that I don’t feel scared to give you this much reign over my body and heart. Over what you do to me. I feel safe with you, Carmine. That’s enough for me.”
“You are,” He promises with a heated kiss. “You are safe with me. I’d never let anyone hurt you.” He puts his mouth near mine. “And I kill any motherfucker that ever tried.”
He slowly puts his weight on me, crushing me into the mattress, his mouth under my ear as he slides his hands under my head, taking finger-fulls of my ringlets into his fists.
I draw my feet up his sides, opening my legs for him to enter me. His hard prick eagerly lands against my center, and I move my hips to feel his heated skin against my clit. It mingles with the fantastic shit he’s doing to my neck and I draw circles on his back with my fingertips that spell out my name.
He stretches me wide and slides inside of me and pumps with full long strokes of his cock, stretching up on his toes so his weight bears down on me in a way that will hit my G spot.
He knows exactly what he’s doing when he fucks. He is a master at his craft. He knows how to move his body with mine and how to touch me. He is so sensitive and in tune with my body.
There’s a bit of me that finds that a hard fact to swallow —knowing fully damn well that he is a dangerous man to everyone in this city, that is ruthless and brutal. But to me he is just a dream. A kind and beautiful man.
His kiss doesn’t deceive when his lips feather across mine and he looks down into my eyes, the fire so bright and alive with desire in his own. His words are whispered across my skin as he baptizes me with his tongue. Renewing my skin with each and every kiss and lick.
For so long I clung to that belief that my life would always be stuck in a standstill. That I couldn’t dare to want more for my life. But his touch reminds me of everything I ever really wanted. Of what I deserve. I want to feel loved. I wanted to feel wanted—like I have a place in this world. Somewhere safe that I can fall into when my heart needs rescue. I think I am actually finding that place.
Here.
With him.
Chapter Twelve
Jasmine
I’m a little surprised in the morning when I wake up in bed all by myself without Carmine. I expected to feel the warmth of his sexy body next to mine as I rolled over, or to feel his strong arms wrapped protectively around me like we fell asleep last night. But all I find is a tray housing a shiny silver coffee carafe and a china cup with cream and sugar on the bedside table.
The morning sun comes pouring in through the large windows that frame the walls like fine art. I stretch and pour myself a hot cup of coffee that has an aroma that is out of this world, filling the room with the sweet scent of citrus and chocolate. My absolute favorite way to wake up from now on.
I take a long sip and blink the sleep away from my eyes. I feel a little sore between my legs but in a really good way that makes me giggle to myself, honestly.
I sit here for a moment and recall the memory of him making love to me last. His touch. His kiss. The way it feels to have his huge dick slammed inside of me and then me coming on that dick.
I didn’t think it would, but it pales in comparison to getting my pussy eaten out by him or his fingers fucking me, and that’s saying quite a lot considering how many times I’ve ridden his mouth and digits to full
orgasm that rocked my world.
I sip more at my coffee as I get up to see the time. It’s late morning. Surely, he must be up? Maybe showering still? I grab a robe from the back of my bedroom door from a golden hook and then find my cell. Ten missed calls from Porsha.
I roll my eyes and type out a quickie little text to her just so she will stop freaking out on me. Like damn. Can’t I live a little? I text her that I am no longer in the V Club with a tongue emoji and don’t wait for a reply. I don’t want anything ruining my high this morning. I want to live on cloud nine for a while and bask in how good it feels to be in love with a man and for him to be in love with me.
I’m still tripping on his words. I can’t believe he declared his love so easily, so freely. Carmine fucking Volta professed his true feelings to me. Wow. I’m going to be a mobster’s girl.
After I toss my phone down I find the door and make my way out. Carmine said he lives alone, and I have never seen a single damn person in this house except for us, so I think it’s okay if I run around nude, let alone in a thick ass white robe that feels so luxurious I have to wonder if he skinned innocent little white rabbits just to make it this way. Obviously, I’m kidding. But damn it does feel so nice on my naked skin underneath.
I don’t know if I’m allowed to cross over to his side of the house or not, we ever really talked about rules or anything, but if I am supposed to be his queen, then I’d say I have as much right to roam as the King, no?
I take a chance and pad my little ass along the staircase until I am climbing the steps to his wing. This side of the house has a whole different vibe. It seems as if no one really ever comes over to it, and when they do, they could give a damn less.
I mean it’s still just as rich and luxurious looking, no doubt, but the air just feels so much stiffer. Like there are ghosts haunting this side of the side, almost like guardians, keeping people out. It sends a horrible chill up my spine, the fine hairs on the back of my neck rising as I find the first door to the wing. I hear a deep voice, almost sounding like Carmine’s but the voice sounds . . . angry?
I put my ear to the door and listen. He’s cursing at someone and then I hear something thud loudly. Then footsteps. My heart leaps. I scurry my barely covered ass over to another room across the hall that has unlocked door. Three men come barging out of his office. I move out of view but listen.
“And you tell that fucker Chuckie if he ever wants to see his whore daughter again to get me all the money he owes me, or she is as good as dead. You under-fuckin-stand?”
“Yes, boss.”
“Yes, Mr. Volta.”
My heart races. I couldn’t have heard him right.
“You tell him if he gets me the money on time and without any more problems I might even return her in one piece.” Carmine laughs sinisterly. “That’s a fuckin lie. Tell him I already fucked her. I already had my cock in her mouth and pussy and soon it will be in her ass. Just like he stole one of my bitches, I stole his. I own her now. If he wants what’s left he needs to pay me retribution.”
The goons agree and find their way down the steps. Carmine slams the door once they’re out of sight and then they close the front door below on the first floor. My heart is about to jump out of my chest. I’m going to be sick. How could this be? How could I be so stupid? What did my father ever do to Carmine and why did he pick me as a punishment?
I’ve done nothing but be genuine. I have laid my heart at his feet. This has all just been some stupid game to him and I am a pawn. I want to throw up. I need to get out of here.
Quietly I exit the room I’m hiding inside of, but it’s not good enough because before I can make it across the steps I am caught in his strong arms. I fight but he holds firm and I can’t go anywhere.
“Hey, little, kitten. What are you up to? Why are you sneaking around on my side of the house?”
“You pig!” I fight him but it’s no use. “You lied to me.”
He doesn’t answer for a moment. “Your father owes me a huge debt.”
“I am not some game piece in this war you two have going on. I don’t want any part of this. I was honest with you. I gave myself to you!”
“Kitten,” he says, sounding every bit like the man people warn you about him being—ruthless and brutal. “I wish things were so different for us. But honestly, how would this ever work? You said it yourself, we are from two different worlds. I am supposed to marry within the rules of my family. I have a duty and a legacy to fulfill. And so, do you. You have a duty to your mom as well, and as soon as your prick father gives over what belongs to me, I’ll be happy to return you to him.”
“So wait…you’ve kidnapped me? Am I for ransom?”
“I wouldn’t say that. Let’s just hope for both our sakes he pays up. I’d hate to have to punish you any further, but I am willing to take this game to extremes he’s never considered. Now that you know who the real Carmine Volta truly is I’d like to avoid that.”
I growl. “You’re a monster you Italian prick!”
He holds me tighter in his grasp, grinding into my backside as he bites my shoulder.
“And I love how feisty you are, really. But unless you want to awaken the monster in my pants, I’d take it easy. There’s nothing more I’d love than to rip off this robe and fuck you in the ass on my Italian marble staircase with my big Italian prick.”
“You don’t have the balls,” I spat. “Fuck you, Volta.”
“Fuck me?” He challenges. Why do I still get wet from his words? Why do I still crave to have him inside of me. My clit throbs at the threat of him entering my ass with that big dick. This man just ruined me in the most possible way. “Is that what you want, kitten?”
His fingers rip open my robe and I moan as he roughly twists me around and crashes his lips to mine. I fight him as we kiss, biting on his full lips as he slides his fingers into my soaked pussy.
My legs fall open as we crash into the banister and I’m splayed out like arms of a cross, wide open for him to push deep into me. Carmine stares into my eyes as he plays with my clit.
“You sexy little bitch,” he croons. “You love getting fucked by me, don’t you? Doesn’t matter what I do.”
“Fuck you, Carmine.” I slap him across his gorgeous face and then kiss him hard. I know, it’s crazy.
He bites my bottom lip and then falls to his knees to devour my pussy and eat me whole. His tongue lashes over my clit until my legs tremble and my body begins to quiver and quake. Carmine slaps his fingers over my sex, punishing me blissfully.
“Bad fuckin kitty. Letting me eat your pussy like this. I steal you from your family and you let me taste you like this, Jasmine?” He smacks me again on the clit and I moan loudly, my voice bouncing off the walls of the stairwell.
“My father would hate it if you fucked me again,” I challenge.
Carmine kisses my clit again and then stands, pulling his dick free from his pants. He’s so damn big and thick. My mouth waters just looking at that thing. I fall to my knees and bob on his cock like I’m starved for him, because damn it, I am.
I love the taste of him and how his head hits the back of my throat. I love swallowing him down and making him groan for me. I love how his fingers are twisted in my hair as I tease the tip of his sensitive dick and take him deep until he’s almost coming down my throat. But, Carmine spins me around making my hands slap against the banister railing as I hold on tight.
“He’ll hate it even more if I fuck you in the ass.”
His head presses against my tight asshole and I cry out as he sinks part of his member slowly inside of me, taking my virginity for the second time.
He comes in my ass, roaring as he thrusts hard, shoving himself deep inside of me. I rub feverishly over my greedy little clit and come with him, feeling him stretch me open, the whole thing just sends me flying over the ledge, I can’t help myself.
“Fuck, kitten,” he grounds out, panting hard as his strong hands roam over my ass cheeks. He pulls out of
me and my ass drools his cum down my thighs. “Even if daddy pays his debt, how will I ever let you go?”
I breathe hard and can’t answer him for so many reasons. Carmine slips my robe back over my naked frame and then unexpectedly swoops me up into his arms and carries me back to my bedroom.
Carmine stares at me for a long measure once he places me on my feet. Something plays in his dark eyes like he’s troubled. I want to comfort him but he’s done me so wrong. He lied to me, and now he’s keeping me here as a prisoner, not a lover.
I scoff at him and turn away. Disgusted with myself that I slept with again, I head to the closet and pull out a casual outfit of snug fitting jeans and a white tank top. I don’t give a damn if he stands there all night long, I am not going to have sex with him again, much less allow myself to feel sorry for him.
When I turn around he is gone and the door is closed. I rush to it and twist the knob, but it’s no use. The bastard has locked me inside of this damn castle like a caged fairy tale princess.
I hate him.
Chapter Thirteen
Carmine
Tia tries to talk me down from the ledge. I’ve locked myself in the office at Pinkies and have been debating for the last three hours about what to do with Jasmine Morris. That prick Chuckie is honestly trying to get her killed by not answering my demands.
No one fuckin ignores me, much less makes a damn fool of me by not taking my threats seriously. But that’s the damn problem. I can’t be taken seriously here because I’ve allowed myself to get involved way more than I should have with this girl. Tia stares at me like I’m insane. Maybe I am. My fists pound the desk and she jumps a little.
“It’s almost midnight. The fuck.” I am about ready to just smash everything in this office to smithereens I feel so disrespected. What the hell was Jasmine doing listening outside of my door anyhow? I should have told her the rules about not crossing into my wing of the house, but I was too swept up in my ruse to go over the details as finely as I normally would have.