Perfectly Damaged: Luka : A bad boy mafia romance

by Alice May Ball

  Peering around the side of his body, Princess observed that Dino, Callaghan and Calhoun were nowhere to be seen. They could be around in the sitting area, but there was no light on.

  Where could they have all gone? A light came from the door of one of the guest bedrooms at the back. It was the one that Dino had used the night before, so she hadn’t seen inside it.

  Looking back into Agostini’s face, she saw his neck was red and thickened. The firm, straight muscle from below his ear to his collarbone was tense. A vein twitched on his temple. As she felt the hard heat of him in her hand, his eyebrows moved closer together and pushed up an awesomely lovely ridge between them.

  Her knees trembled. Desperately, she wanted to drag down the zipper of his pants, reach into the front of his silky boxers and free his throbbing cock. Pull out the hot, twitching bulb and rub it between her breasts.

  The feeling of his hard rod between her soft, warm mounds was so unbearably near. Breath came quick and shallow.

  There was no privacy here and yet, tantalizingly, there was no one to see them. They were in full view of the whole city. All of Manhattan could watch them, if they had telescopes and night vision. But they were in darkness and invisible.

  She opened the top two buttons on the front of her dress. He should be truly grateful that she used his money in that mall to find this lovely flower-embroidered, semi-sheer bra with a clasp at the front.

  In her hardened nipples, a zinging ache rose and fell with a slow, urgent rhythm.

  A groan raked in his chest as he looked at her quivering breasts. As she popped the clasp, his eyes flashed and he licked his lips. His strong, beautiful hands reached for her as she let the cups drop away.

  With the backs of her fingers, Princess batted his hands away. “Ah!” Her whisper was insistent. “Done that.” She tilted her head. “Did you forget already?” And she pressed her lips together. “I’d have to work hard…” She squeezed him. “…to keep anything in your mind.”

  The bulge in Agostini’s pants fell to beat on her dress. She allowed herself just the start of a grin as she peered up at him and pushed and squeezed her tits toward him. Giving them a jiggle, she relished the ripple of her milky flesh.

  Slowly, deliberately, she descended, relishing the pressure of her bare flesh against him as she slid downward to her knees.

  The relief, like scratching an itch, when she scraped the exposed skin of her breasts against the firm fabric of his pants, made a moan rise from deep in her core. Though she stifled it by holding her lips together, the vibration inside her still thrilled her and made her press harder.

  Princess laid her face against his shirt as she pressed her billowing breasts either side of the pole in his pants. Reaching around with her fingers, she traced the heavenly outline of his ass.

  Agostini’s cheeks clenched and she wanted to squeeze them, but instead, she said into his stomach, “Uh-uh. Not this time.” And she fluttered her fingertips over the outline before she brought them back.

  Leaning against him, pressing her soft, generous mounds against the edges of his hips, drew a sigh of satisfaction from her throat. Partial satisfaction. His hips began to move, shoving his cock hard into her cleavage.

  He flinched as she pinched the inside of his thigh. “I have the idea that we’re doing this part my way.” Princess raised her eyes but her face tilted only a little. Little enough that as she spoke, her warm breath beat on his stomach, just above his belt.

  The thrusting pressure within his pants jutted against her throat. She pressed forward so he felt her low voice in her chest as she said, “If there’s anything left for a further one-time-only…” His eyes blazed as she went on. “…I hope we’ll do it your way.” Softly, she bit his stomach. “Very much your way.”

  Gently, she raked her nails down the backs of his thighs, and a moan grated in his stomach as she rocked his cock between her breasts. As she pushed, her fingertips teased the crease at the bottom of his ass, the insides of his thighs, and she dragged her thumbnails down the fronts of his hips.

  Parting her thighs, Princess longed to feel her fingers—or better still, his lips and tongue—on her delta, in between her folds, up around her stinging clit. But she resisted.

  Determined to concentrate on driving her savage gangster wild and out of his mind with passion and desire, just as he had done to her, she pushed the thoughts of her own stimulation away as far as she could.

  That only made her think of how it could feel to have his cock jammed between her lips, along her tongue and plunging into her throat. Of how he would taste and how the stretch would feel.

  Sinking her teeth softly into his stomach again, she rolled harder and faster against him. The great muscles of his thighs began to tense and flex and his buttocks clenched.

  She breathed, “I’m aching to swallow your cum. Is this the best time, though? For the only time?”

  Just the recognition, the thought, was making her begin to come, but she stayed focused, concentrating on feeling the rising beat in his lengthening, stiffening cock.

  She pulled her upper arms together and crushed him as tightly in her soft, sliding valley, wrapped around his unstoppable erection. It had shoved the fabric of his pants up at least two inches above the belt.

  Inside, she felt a ring of pulse run from the base all the way up the shaft to the head. She judged her moment and dove her hands behind his belt. Quickly she found him.

  A flash like lightning went off inside her and it took all of her concentration to swing him free and pop the top of him out so she could gobble him into her mouth and suck as he started to twitch and thrust and come, onto her tongue, into her throat. The top third of his fat pole filled her mouth and his hot, salty spurts slathered onto the back of her tongue and into her throat.

  Agostini seized her head, but still she shoved him away and took him deeper, sucking him dry until he was still.

  A buzzer sounded.

  From behind, he heard either Calhoun or Callaghan run across the floor to the buzzing intercom. There couldn’t have been a worse moment in his life than when the most divine angel had just finished swallowing his load.

  He wanted to protect her and to save her from embarrassment, to scoop her up and hold her and tell her how wonderful she was and, more than anything, he wanted to feel her flesh against his, him against hers.

  Half an hour, twenty minutes even, to fold her in his arms and feel the love. So what the fuck did Mikey want, he wondered with a scowl.

  “Boss, you need to see this right away.” It was Calhoun by the intercom. Agostini lifted Princess gently to her feet, shielding her body with his own. Her bare breasts and the wet sparkle in her eyes made him yearn for at least the time to tell her something. Something important.

  But there was no time. He couldn’t bear to leave her without a kiss, and yet, soft, sweet and lovely as it was, breaking it off left him feeling worse than if his lips hadn’t tasted hers and he hadn’t sniffed the delicious cocktail of their scents mingled in her mouth.

  He settled her in the shadows, on the couch. Over by the intercom, Calhoun stood, looking at the video monitors.

  In the foyer, behind the big reception desk, Mikey had his hands raised, palms out. In front of the desk were four of Yvgeny’s goons, with Yvgeny behind them. The goons all had machine pistols drawn.

  Calhoun said, “Mikey must have just pressed the button to give us the heads up.”

  Dino and Callaghan were already with him, arming up. Dino passed out clips.

  Agostini called out sharply, “Princess, come down with me.” Callaghan looked him hard in the eyes. “We can’t leave her alone up here, Callaghan. If they find their way up, there’s nowhere for her to go.”

  She was there by the time the elevator doors opened. With everybody in the car, Agostini pushed the buttons for the second floor and the garage.

  He told Calhoun and Callaghan, “Get out on the second floor. Wait one and a half minutes and then head down the main
stairs for the lobby. I’ll arrive there at the same time.”

  At the second floor, Callaghan said, “Be cool. See you in ninety seconds.” He and Calhoun were checking the clips in their Colts as the elevator doors closed behind them.

  Agostini, Princess, and Dino rode the elevator to the garage.

  Agostini took Princess by the arm and told Dino, “Wait one minute and take the elevator up to the lobby. I’ll be coming in the front door right then.” Dino took a grip of his arm and gave a firm nod.

  The black SUV was right by the steps to the platform by the elevator. Handing her the keys to the SUV, Agostini told Princess. “There’s a gun in the glovebox. Sit in the driver’s seat and turn the engine on. You see anything, anything at all, you get the hell out of there.”

  Her frown made him stop and say, “It’s your choice whether you use the gun or not. I recommend you do. It’s a Sig Sauer automatic. Very reliable, very accurate, controlled recoil, and remember, no safety. When you touch the trigger, anything in front of it will break and fall over.”

  He kissed her hard and ran for the ramp. He took out his nine millimeter, checked the chamber, and racked the slide before he was out in daylight. Staying crouched, keeping the gun low, he ran around the corner of the building.

  Agostini knew there were enough low walls, planters, and shrubbery to keep him out of view until he could reach the door. He passed the matte black Hummer at the curb.

  He looked through the foliage toward the lobby and caught a quick glimpse inside. The five Russians were in the reception area. Mikey was still behind the desk, hands raised, shaking his head slowly.

  Mikey had been a Navy SEAL, and Agostini knew that he kept a Magnum under the desk. With the Russians brandishing weapons, he must not have had a chance to break it out. That, or maybe he figured his odds weren’t great against four guns, maybe five.

  Agostini slipped his automatic into the back of his waistband, stood, and approached the opening door at a relaxed walking pace. The Russians were in front of the reception desk, with the stairway to their right and the elevators farther ahead. Yvgeny was still behind the group of four goons, so nearer to Agostini as he entered.

  “Yvgeny,” he said breezily, “how have you been all this time? Must be almost half an hour I haven’t seen you.”

  “Pierce. The stupid man here told us you weren’t at home.”

  “Well, as you can see…” Passing in the doorway, he raised his arms. “…I’m not. Or, I wasn’t. I’m here now, though. Not very nice of your friends to arrive with weapons out like that. Can’t you do something about them?”

  Yvgeny shrugged and said, “We’re very cautious where we come from, tovarich.” The goons turned to face Agostini. One of them was about to step out in front of Yvgeny, but Yvgeny put an arm out to stop him. “No, Mikhial. You don’t have to worry. Mr. Agostini is not afraid of me, so he isn’t going to do anything stupid.”

  Yvgeny took a step toward him. “You aren’t going to do anything stupid, are you, Pierce Agostini?”

  “I wonder how often people set out to do stupid things, Yvgeny.”

  “Stupid people, Pierce. Whatever they do is going to be stupid, isn’t it?”

  Then Yvgeny strode straight at Agostini and grabbed him by the hair. Yanked it straight up. “Stupid things like this.” He heard the four goons rack their guns. He thought about pulling his Beretta but, while Yvgeny’s left arm was up, he decided it would be quicker to jam his right fist in a fast hook, hard into Yvgeny’s liver.

  He hadn’t anticipated how hard Yvgeny would keep a grip on his hair. As the Russian folded and twisted, Agostini’s scalp seared in pain. He saw the goons lift their weapons, but Yvgeny was in the way.

  Quiet as a breeze, Calhoun and Callaghan were down the stairs, both with a gun in each hand. They got the barrels pointed at the four goons while Yvgeny writhed with his head down, still gripping Pierce’s hair.

  Agostini reached back for his gun, but Yvgeny swung upward with a massive blade. Agostini spun to avoid it, and the pain in his scalp was like a fire. He heard the tearing of his hair and Yvgeny’s face was wild as he brought the blade back.

  The elevator dinged and the door started to open. Instantly, all four Russian goons ducked down and started to shoot. Mikey came up with his pistol and got off a shot. The biggest of the goons caught it on his shoulder.

  Dino stepped out of the elevator, standing tall, two guns blazing. The Russians scurried for the door, firing backwards or over their shoulders.

  Calhoun and Dino ran after them. Callaghan came for Yvgeny, but he couldn’t shoot with Agostini so near. Agostini caught Yvgeny’s arm when he swung the blade again, enough for him to lose his grip and drop the weapon, and Yvgeny ran for the door.

  Pierce, Callaghan, Calhoun, and Dino stood in the doorway, guns pointed, and watched the four henchmen pile hastily into the Hummer. At least two of them were injured. The big one that Mikey had hit was bleeding badly.

  The doors slammed and they skidded away.

  “You see where Yvgeny went?” Calhoun asked. All three shook their heads. Agostini looked back and saw Mikey holding his arm, and he had blood on his shirt. Agostini ran over to him, but he smiled and held up a hand. “It hurts some, but it’s nothing serious.”

  Agostini heard a slump and he turned to see Dino, collapsed on the ground.

  Princess sat behind the wheel feeling useless. Here she was with a car and a gun, and nothing at all to do. With no idea at all what was going on, she at least wanted to drive around to the front of the lobby.

  Repeatedly, she deliberated whether to take the gun out of the glovebox. Agostini’s warning of “no safety” had made her apprehensive, though. Sounded like she could easily fire it without meaning to.

  It had been several minutes since Agostini ran up the ramp and back around to the reception desk. She couldn’t stand waiting any longer. First, though, it was vital to decide whether she would be safer to have the gun in the glovebox or on the seat beside her.

  Remembering how powerless she felt when Yvgeny held her, Princess decided she would be safer with the gun out where she could reach it. After she clipped the safety belt on and started the engine, she leaned over and struggled with the catch on the glovebox.

  Inside the box was dark, and she strained with the safety belt to reach it. She fumbled around almost blindly for the gun. Instinctively, she stopped, thinking, No safety. You could fool around finding it and shoot yourself. Then she felt something smooth with a jagged metal part at the side of the box and realized the gun was in a holster, clipped into the box. As she pulled on the holster there was a snag.

  Her heart jumped as she felt it jar. But nothing happened. Princess took a breath. Her fingers felt the little button strap across the top of the holster holding the gun in place. The gun was black and heavy.

  As she hefted herself back upright, she saw Yvgeny pointing a gun through the window of the passenger door. Princess dropped the gun on the seat and reached for the lever to put the car in drive. The window exploded.

  She couldn’t see, but she had a hold of the lever. As soon as it moved, she took her foot off the brake and jammed it on the gas. The car lurched backwards. Tiny fragments of glass were all over the inside of the car. There was a milky, jagged hole where the passenger window had been.

  Yvgeny grinned, hanging halfway in through the window, heaving to climb in the rest of the way. Princess hit the brake and he was violently jolted.

  “Little sugar mouse,” he said, “I’m coming to get you.”

  She flicked the lever to drive and stamped on the gas pedal. His eyes bulged at the force of acceleration, but he kept on grinning. And climbing in.