by B. B. Hamel
“Bastard,” I groaned and bit his lower lip.
He growled and pulled my hair. “Good. I like it when you don’t give in all the way. Go ahead and pretend like you don’t want this.”
I stared fire at him, my knees trembling, my body weak. I was dripping wet and I couldn’t keep denying what my body was telling me.
I jerked forward and kissed him. He pushed me back, crushing me, kissing me hard before releasing my wrists. I gasped as they fell down and wrapped around his neck. He opened the door and pushed me inside.
I stumbled over the threshold. He came at me, the rain dripping out on the street. He slammed the door shut. I heard something in the other room, a movement, and I looked over my shoulder.
Gino stood in the kitchen doorway.
“Go home,” Dante barked. I turned back to him, and he didn’t take his eyes from me. “Go the fuck home, Gino.”
Dante stepped forward and grabbed me by the hips. He lifted me like I was nothing and threw me over his shoulder. I caught a glimpse of Gino grinning as he left the house, closing the door behind him.
I hit Dante on the back. “Put me down,” I hissed. “You asshole.”
“No,” he said and took me to the top of the house. He walked to the last bedroom, the master bedroom at the very back, and opened the door. I hit him on the back again, again, before he threw me down onto the bed.
I hit the sheets with a gasp and stared up at him as he stood at the foot of the bed. I tried to scramble back but he caught my ankle, his grip steel-hard. My eyes skimmed the dark room and caught sight of a dresser, two nightstands. His blanket was gray and his sheets were dark blue. The headboard was large and padded and covered with light gray cloth. There was a painting of a bridge across a wide body of water hanging above the bed.
I couldn’t see more as he dragged me down the sheets toward him. I kicked out, not sure what I was doing, but he just caught my other ankle. He smirked and jerked me down to the edge of the bed. I gasped as he pinned my knees down with his right hand and grabbed my hair with his left, lifting me up to meet his lips.
I kissed him, fell into that kiss like heaven, and tasted him for a long moment. He pulled back and kissed my neck. “If I let your knees go, are you going to hit me?” he whispered.
“I don’t think so,” I said.
“Good.” He released me and I considered it, but decided that would probably be a bad idea. It would kill the moment, but more than that, it might piss him off too much. He grabbed my hair tighter and kissed me before grabbing the hem of my tank top. He pulled it up and off, throwing it across the room. I had on an old black bra, frayed and going gray from age. He unhooked it and I let it slide off as he cupped my breasts and kissed my chest. He shoved me back down onto the bed and pinned me there, holding my wrists again, as he sucked my nipples and bit them.
I moaned his name and he kissed me hard. I felt him release one wrist as the other hand moved down my body, lingering on a nipple before it slid down the front of my little cotton shorts, down underneath my panties, and found my dripping wet pussy.
I moaned and rolled my hips as he slid his fingers up and down my slit. He smirked and bit my lip hard as he pressed his fingers deep inside my pussy. I gasped from pleasure and pain, and he slid them back out to rub circles along my clit.
“Tell me you want my cock,” he whispered in my ear. “Tell me you want it deep between your legs.”
“Oh, god,” I moaned.
“You know what I am. You know what I do. And yet here you are, giving yourself to me. You’re a dirty girl, little Aida. You’re my filthy, dirty girl, every inch of you is mine, and I’m going to claim my prize. Now tell me you want it.”
I stared into his eyes and knew he wasn’t lying. I was his, every inch of me, and I wanted to be his prize.
“I want it,” I whispered, my voice soft and low.
“Good girl.” He bit my lip and ran his tongue against mine before moving back off me and releasing my other wrist. His hand came out from my panties as he stood up at the end of the bed and took off his shirt.
I watched him undress, one hand on my breasts, unable to help myself. I could feel my pulse between my legs, and his sheets were soft underneath me. I glanced away and saw a bathroom, a closet, a wardrobe. I looked back as he removed the shirt and threw it on the floor. He tilted his head to one side and took off his belt slowly, sliding it off and holding it in his hand. He reached down and grabbed my hair and turned me onto my stomach. I gasped as I looked over my shoulder.
He brought the belt down hard on my ass. I gasped, shocked. I was still wearing my cotton shorts but the belt still hurt. “What the fuck?” I whispered.
He spanked me again with it and grabbed my hair harder. He kissed me before pushing my shorts aside, his fingers teasing my pussy from behind. I moaned and glared at him as he pushed them deep inside me. He dropped the belt and fucked me with his fingers. I wiggled my hips and he pulled back, growling in pleasure as he licked my slick wet from his fingertips.
I watched him take off his pants, still on my stomach. I rolled over and leaned on one elbow as he stepped out. His body was muscular, covered in tattoos, and his thick, long cock strained against his black boxer briefs. I stared as he took those off too, revealing his massive cock, straight and practically throbbing with every beat of his heart.
I leaned forward and sat up. I took him in both my hands and looked up into his eyes as I stroked him top to bottom. He grabbed my hair and stared at me before pressing himself into my mouth.
I moaned as he slid his cock into my throat. I gagged, pulled back, then took him again. I sucked him faster, licking the tip and tasting the precum dripping down his shaft. My spit slid along his length and I gathered it in my hands, stroking him as I sucked him faster, letting his cock slide into my throat and back out.
I could barely fit his massive shaft but I tried anyway. My breasts shook with every bob of my head and I moaned as I sucked him faster and faster. God, I needed it, needed his cock, wanted to taste his cum in my throat. But he pulled me back and kissed me before dropping to his knees.
“Look at you,” he whispered, taking off my shorts and my panties. “Pink and slick. Fucking beautiful.” He kissed my pussy then licked me top to bottom. “And delicious.”
“God, Dante,” I whispered. “You’re sick.”
“Sick?” He laughed. “It’s not sick to love the taste of you, my little Aida.”
I bit my lip. I’d never had a man want me like that before. He licked me again, fingers sliding inside, tongue rolling along my clit. Pleasure bloomed like heaven all through my body as his fingers fucked deeper and his tongue worked faster, lapping my stiff clit up, making my hips work.
But he pulled back and stood, stroking his massive cock. I leaned up on my elbows and stared at him as he grabbed my hips and pressed himself against me. I nearly choked as he teased my slick spot top to bottom with his heavy tip and I wanted it, god, I wanted it, but I was so afraid.
He smirked and leaned down. I thought he might kiss me.
Instead, he pushed me back down on the bed and slid himself deep inside.
I gasped, back arched as pleasure and pain ripped through me like lightning.
The rain began to pound harder outside as he slid himself out and began to fuck me. I rolled my hips and took him deeper, deeper. He kissed me then, bit my lip, licked my nipples, bit them too. I growled and moaned my pleasure, taking him deep between my legs. He shoved me down and held me there, fucking me like a savage, taking me like he owned me.
And he did. I was his prize, my body, my pussy, my pleasure.
I screamed his name as he fucked me. He growled in response, grabbed my hair, slammed his cock deeper. His tongue slid into my mouth as his cock took me over and over, filling me to the brim, sliding slick between my legs. Pleasure drove me wild, drove me past the point of no return, and I knew I’d never be the same again.
I didn’t care. He turned me around and got me up
on all fours. I kissed him over my shoulder as he knelt on the bed behind me. He slapped my ass hard then slid himself deep inside. I threw back my head and gasped as he grabbed my hair and fucked me rough from behind, taking me like an animal. There was no hesitation, nothing tentative, nothing gentle. He knew my flesh and he wanted to take me, taste me, make me scream.
I screamed. I begged his name. I bucked my hips and flailed back against him harder and harder, feeling every rough stroke, every thick slap of him against my ass. He spanked me, pulled my hair, and leaned forward to rub my clit as he whispered in my ear.
“You’re my little prize,” he growled. “My little bride. I’m going to marry you, Aida. You might not want that now, but you will, my little darling. I’m going to marry my little bride.”
I moaned and rode his cock faster and faster. Sweat slicked my skin in bed as he spanked my ass harder. There’d be bruises all along my skin and I didn’t care. The thunder roared outside as he fucked me faster and faster. He grabbed my hair and bit my shoulder before shoving my face down against the comforter. He took me then, used my pussy like his toy, and ripped into me. His body was a monstrous mass of muscle and gorgeous tattoos and I wanted every inch of it.
I cried out my pleasure and he knew I was close. I could see it in his eyes. He reached around my hip and rubbed my clit again, working it faster as he ground his massive cock deep between my legs. I gasped and took it, unable to move, unable to do anything but feel the pleasure tearing me to perfect pieces.
I came hard on his massive shaft. I came and felt my world spiral into bits and nothing. Pleasure assaulted me, took me and left me nothing more than a puddle of sweat and drool.
But he wasn’t done. He fucked my pussy, teased my breasts, then slid his massive shaft out from inside of me. He stroked himself and pulled me down to him, sliding his cock into my mouth. I sucked him, tasting my pussy on his skin, before he came deep into my throat, just what I wanted.
I swallowed every single drop, and when I was done, I looked up into his eyes as I licked my pussy off his still-hard shaft.
He was sweating, I was sweating. We collapsed onto his bed in a tangle of sheets and lust. He pulled me against his chest and held me there, and we didn’t speak. I don’t think there were any words, not after what we’d just done, not after that.
I could only think one thing, over and over again, as I felt myself slipping toward sleep in his arms.
He wanted to marry me.
I was going to be his bride.
I couldn’t tell if I loved it, feared it, or was repulsed by it all.
But I slept there, wrapped in his body, pleasure still pulsing through me, reverberating like a drum.
13
Dante
Aida was still asleep when I woke with the sun the next morning. I slipped from my bed and stared at her perfect skin, at her perky breasts and pink nipples. Fucking hell, I could still feel that tight cunt wrapped around my cock, her slick body writhing against mine. She took it and loved it, loved every inch of it, loved the way I manhandled her and used her for my pleasure.
I felt my cock stir and had to pull myself away before I woke her up and made her suck my cock again.
I slipped into the shower and rinsed off. When I was done, I stared at myself in the mirror for a long moment, going over the events of the night before.
None of it made any sense.
I came back out of the bathroom, intent on getting a suit from my wardrobe, but Aida was sitting up in bed. She wrapped a sheet around herself and stared at me. I tilted my head, naked and still damp, and I let her eyes move along my body. I smirked when she met my gaze again.
“Sleep good?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I think I have bruises on my ass.”
“Good.” I walked to the dresser, found a pair of boxer briefs and a plain white undershirt, and pulled them on.
“Dante,” she said.
I looked up at her. “What?”
“Something happened last night.”
I frowned. “I fucked you until you fell asleep. Or don’t you remember having the best sex of your life?”
She blushed a little. “That’s not what I meant. Before you showed up. Something happened. You had… blood on your shirt.”
My eyes flicked over to the red-stained shirt lying on the floor. “Damn,” I said softly. “I’ll have to get rid of that.”
“What happened?” she pushed.
I walked to the wardrobe pressed against the far wall. It was large and oak, an antique thing made a hundred years ago in this city. It cost a goddamn fortune, but I loved the stupid thing. I opened the doors and smelled the wood as I picked out a suit and began to pull it on.
She just kept watching me. I put my slacks on, buttoned up my shirt, tucked it in. I turned to her as I adjusted my cuffs and tilted my head.
“You really want to know my business?”
“I think it has something to do with me. Or else you wouldn’t have…” She trailed off.
I snorted. “I don’t need an excuse to fuck you, Aida.”
“No, but you were angry. I think you were taking something out on me.” She bit her lip. “Not that I’m complaining. But what happened?”
I watched her for a long moment. I thought back to that club, the black light, the men on the ground. I could feel my gun smash against that fuck’s teeth again. I could see the bottles shake and fall over as my boys threw those dumb fucks over the bar.
“I hit Vlas back,” I said.
She nodded, not surprised. “What happened?”
I stepped toward her then sat down on the end of the bed. She moved over to me, the sheet dropping away to reveal one beautiful breast, her pink nipple hard again. I tilted my head toward her. “We hit the strip club your dad robbed,” I said.
She frowned and ran a hand along the sheets, smoothing them out. “Why?” she asked.
“Wanted to send a message,” I said. “Let Vlas know that nothing was safe, even a spot he knew we might come after again.”
“Did it work?”
“No,” I said. “It didn’t. He knew we’d be there. I don’t know how, but he knew.”
She looked up and her hair spilled over one shoulder as she adjusted the sheet to cover herself again. “How do you know?”
“He had a picture of you, probably from your Instagram profile. It was pinned to his desk with a knife. And his safes were all empty, no cash at all.”
She stared at me and her face morphed into horror. I stared at her, keeping my face calm and neutral. I didn’t want to scare her, but if she really wanted to be a part of my business, she was going to have to get used to things like this.
“Did you… did you kill someone?” Her voice sounded light and distant, like she was afraid to speak too loudly, or else her question would come true.
“No,” I said. “Nobody there was worth killing. I’m not stupid enough to spark off a full-scale war just because Vlas got one over on me. No, I roughed some motherfucker up, gave him a fat dental bill, but nobody died.”
She nodded once and looked relieved. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure.” I hesitated and leaned toward her. “I’m afraid I have a rat in my gang.”
She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes. “That can’t be true. Your guys… They’re all loyal, aren’t they?”
“I thought so. But how else would Vlas know we’d be there?”
“I don’t know.” She took a sharp breath. “Maybe he just… guessed. And left that picture there for days, hoping you’d show.”
I nodded slightly. That was my guess as well, and it was good to hear it come from her. I didn’t want to rule out the possibility of a rat just because it was distasteful. I couldn’t pretend like that sort of shit didn’t happen from time to time.
But my boys, I’d grown up with a lot of them, and the ones that I hadn’t, I brought up myself. They were my soldiers, hand-picked and trusted, men I’d treated well. They did our
business, set up our drug deals, kept shit flowing across the neighborhoods. I kept them safe and paid them in fat, heavy stacks of cash every week. I kept them all happy.
The idea that any one of them would turn on me for Vlas made my skin crawl.
“Come on,” I said. “Get up.”
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Downstairs. You need coffee and I want to watch you walk across the room.” I smirked and stood, moving back over to my wardrobe.
She looked at me, her cheeks red, and let the sheet drop away. She climbed out of bed and hesitated before walking to the bathroom. I stared at her long legs, her lean body, her perky breasts. I felt my cock stir as I took down my jacket and slipped it on.
I headed downstairs while she showered and made a few calls. When I was done, I made the coffee, scrambled some eggs, and made some toast. It was finished by the time she came down wearing a pair of sweats and another black tank top. I glanced at her body, at her breasts, unable to help myself. Having her last night, sinking my cock deep into her tight pussy again and again, fucking her rough and without any mercy, it only made me want her more.
But I had business to attend to. “Sit,” I said.
She curled up at the kitchen table, legs crossed under her. I put a plate of eggs and toast down in front of her and poured a coffee.
“You’re not eating?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Got shit to do.”
“Dante—”
“Don’t worry. Gino will be in soon.”
She stared at me for a long moment then looked away. “Yeah. Okay. Good.” She bit her toast and sipped her coffee.
I walked to the kitchen counter, picked up the gun I’d left next to the frying pan, and slipped it into the waistband of my pants. I covered it with my jacket, adjusted my cuffs, and hesitated just a moment. “I’ll see you later,” I said.
“Be careful.” She blurted the words out like they were hard to say.