Beg Me: A Billionaire Syndicate Romance

by Penelope Woods

  Grabbing a fresh glass, I pour another Jameson and hand it to her. “Here. Drink it. It’ll make you feel normal, whatever it is that happened.”

  She exhales sharply and tries to smile. Even when she’s flustered, she’s a ten. Her nipples are rock hard, pressed against her cotton t-shirt. I’m drooling like a brain-dead caveman, attempting to listen with all my might. But it’s difficult to pay attention when a woman as beautiful as her is standing in front of my face.

  “It’s Byron,” she says. “He’s being a total asshole.”

  I set down my drink. “Need me to step in?”

  She looks at me, placing her hands against my abs, resting her head on my chest. “You’re strong as a bull, Rocco,” she whispers. “But I don’t think you can take on all of Detroit’s underground. I don’t think you know the extent of this.”

  I shrug. “How tough can a business tycoon really be?” I ask, running my fingers through her hair. She moves away and looks worried.

  “He’s a Napolitano. I hate saying that, but he is. He comes from the bad side of our family. His father used to be the head until he miraculously disappeared,” she says. “Anyway, he knows about us. At least, I think he does.”

  I grab my glass again and down the contents, exhaling through the burn. “Great, so I’m on his hit list?” I ask.

  “I’m just saying, we should be careful. Can you understand why I was so weird about this before?”

  I nod, but she’s starting to spiral.

  She takes her hand and head away from me. “We’re from the wrong two families, Rocco. I don’t think we can do this,” she says.

  Walking toward my couch, she finally takes a drink and sits.

  Maybe I was right. Maybe I am losing her…

  How did this happen?

  There’s something she doesn’t know about me. I grew up hard. When I was kid, I used to take a lot of beatings. Back then, things weren’t so easy.

  “Look, there’s something I need to tell you,” I say.

  She takes another sip, eyes searching mine. “What is it?”

  I’ve never really talked about my past. It’s not something I enjoy bringing up. But the truth is, this woman has me off my rocker. I want her to know how I came to be the man I am today.

  “My father was a deadbeat. He would come and go. Typical story. Drugs, abuse, you name it. When he ran out, I needed money. I took to the streets,” I say. “That’s something no one knows about me. Do you understand?”

  I was a low life. A thug. A loser. It’s not an easy thing to admit.

  Her eyes widen, but she moves closer to me when I sit down on the couch. “How did you survive out there?”

  I chuckle, but none of this is funny. “I almost didn’t. Got beat up, pushed down, arrested. Broke enough ribs the hospital knew me by name. But once I proved myself, the right people took me under their wing.”

  “You never told me any of this,” she says. “Why didn’t you mention it? Did you know my family?”

  “You mean Ricky Napolitano, head of the Napolitano Crime Syndicate? Sure. Everyone knew who he was. I sure as hell know Byron is his son,” I say. “Look, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I’m not like that anymore. I lived out of necessity. I got out and made a name for myself. My life is one hundred percent legitimate.”

  There’s a long pause. “Have you killed anyone?”

  I look into those hazel eyes of hers. She’s waiting for me to tell her “no,” even if it’s not true. I don’t have the heart to tell her just how deep I went, that I was initiated into the Saguera gang, against my will.

  I’m not proud of myself. I’m not happy that my family let me down during my childhood. But I did what I had to do to get out. They came after me, and I attacked back.

  It was self defense.

  “Let’s change the subject,” I tell her. “I don’t like thinking about those times. My parents let me down. Society let me down. The world left me to rot.”

  She rests her hand against my chest and eventually her head falls to my lap.

  She’s still with me. Still on my side.

  I can’t believe it, but I’m grateful.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “And I’m sorry I stood you up.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You had bigger negotiations to tend to,” I say.

  She glances up and smiles, hand sliding into my lap. “I wouldn’t say bigger.”

  She squeezes, and the whole mood instantly changes. I feel my blood rush downward, the bulge in my pants growing. I close my eyes and exhale with relief.

  “How can I make it up to you?” she asks. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better about us?”

  Us. That’s new. That’s the first time she has used that word.

  I look down at her. Her breasts are smack against my thigh now. I can’t help myself.

  I reach under her shirt and twist two fingers around her nipple, squeezing gently until her face grows flush. I extend my palm outward and cup her tit in my hand. If I wasn’t completely hard before, I am now.

  I need her. I need her more than she’ll ever know.

  “There’s nothing you can do,” I say. “I’ve already moved on.”

  She unbuttons my pants, slowly sliding the zipper down. “You have? Who’s the new woman? That hot little secretary of yours?”

  As she rolls my boxers past my thighs, my cock springs out, hitting her lips. Surprised, she wraps her palms around my shaft and breathes, teasing me to high hell and back.

  “Yep. We’re moving to Thailand in May. I’m sorry I had to break it to you like this,” I say, jokingly. “You know, with my cock in your hand.”

  “Don’t you mean in my mouth?” she says, sliding my crown over her tongue slowly.

  “Oh, fuck…”

  I push in deep and feel her tongue snake around my shaft. I pump myself inside her throat, running my fingers through her silky, curly hair.

  She inhales through her nose and does it all over again, moving faster with each pump. More deliberate. Completely confident with herself.

  She licks down to my balls and whispers, “But does she do this?”

  My feet curl agains the leather couch as she sucks me. I groan with urgency.

  She’s so fucking hot, so perfect for me. What am I going to do when this ends?

  “No,” I grunt. “She’s got nothing on you.”

  She strokes my cock, running her saliva across the smooth shaft. As she coils both hands, I lean forward and kiss her thick, red lips. She tastes sweet, like candy. When I breathe in, I do it like I need all the oxygen in the world.

  Her scent is everything. She has a hold on me. Perhaps too much of one to be excited about. It’s turning into an addiction, impossible to give up.

  I grab her body and set her on the coffee table, spreading those creamy legs apart.

  “Do you go down on her during your lunch break?” she asks, biting the tip of her index finger. “Does she come like I do?”

  I kiss her pussy. “No,” I mutter. “She’s a prude. She’s nothing like you.”

  I keep the game going. I love playing out these scenarios with her. It feels so fucking wrong. It excites me to no end.

  I slowly curl two fingers inside her warm pussy, lapping my tongue around her clit. She grabs the coffee table, trying to get a grip.

  Finally, she settles her fingers on my hair. She’s already soaking wet, dripping down the side of her thighs.

  I want to cover her in liquid, to watch as the shiny substance envelops her body and falls from her nipples. I want to do such awful things to her. I want to make her tremble for days.

  After a few seconds, she’s riding my mouth. She holds my hair and drags her cunt forward. “Mmm,” she purrs.

  In between breaths I say, “That’s right, baby. Make yourself come.”

  She’s as fragile as she is confident. She’s teetering on the edge, grinding against my face. I suck on her like a ripe fruit, tasting her lips, her w
alls, every last inch of flesh.

  I could do this forever.

  She tries to get a grip, but starts to shake against me. I can feel her losing herself by the second. It’s not long before she’s forced to let go.

  That’s my cue.

  I grab ahold of her ass and bend her forward. Pussy trembling, her entire body erupts like a fucking volcano. She contracts against my fingers, screaming from the back of her throat.

  “Coming!”

  I eat. I feast. I swallow and devour until she speaks no more.

  Finally, I release.

  I beckon her forward. “You’re not done yet,” I mutter. “I need you to sit on this cock.”

  “If I do, I’ll come again,” she protests. “I’m way too sensitive now.”

  Her entire body is shaking. I grab her hands and pull her close to me, whispering against near ear. “You’ll do what I say, won’t you?”

  She nods up and down, breathing lightly against my neck.

  “I’m a good girl, remember?”

  She winks and throws her arms around my neck. Her mouth forms around mine, and she bites, dragging my lip back. The sting is short lasting, but pleasurable. It draws me into her.

  My hands wrap around her waist as her ass drags against my shaft.

  “Put it inside me,” she says. “I want to feel you.”

  I reach under and slide inside. Her warmth takes hold. When I get one taste, I need more. I kiss at her collarbone, dragging my teeth across her flesh. I grab both breasts and stuff my face into her cleavage, sighing with absolute satisfaction.

  As she eases back on my cock, I kiss her soft stomach. With both breasts in my hand, I shudder.

  “I wanted you in that elevator earlier,” I whisper, “but this is well worth the wait.”

  “It better be,” she says, placing her hands across my chest, flat and firm.

  She bounces her lower half, up and down, ass rolling against the tops of my thighs as my cock penetrates deeper.

  Her breath quickens as I grab her long hair and twist it tight. We’re face to face. No kissing. No talking. We just breathe and stare as the sounds of our fuck echo throughout the room.

  Hushed, we thrust in opposite directions, so animalistic and primal it should be posted on the National Geographic website.

  When she comes, it’s sustained. She claws at the leather couch to get a grip on where she is. Her voice beckons across the living room, that heart wrenching sound a woman makes when she has an orgasm.

  Ass up, pussy stuffed with cock, she squeals. Standing from the couch, I grab her, draping her trembling body across my arms. I hit my arm against a button on my wall, and the glass doors to my back-porch slide open automatically.

  There’s a deck and two chairs facing toward a beautiful view of downtown.

  I grin and breathe. “I want to fuck you in this chair,” I say.

  I set her down and watch her stumble to the chair, straddling it so her ass and pussy are on full display.

  “Like this?” she asks.

  She pouts her lips. Her eyes are deviant and aware of the situation. She knows exactly what I want and need.

  “More.”

  She drags her ass back, and I reach out my hand to run a finger down her spine. I stop at the top of her ass, and I bend forward. One more taste to get me going again. Fuel for the fire to make this last forever.

  Rising, I mount and hold both hips. Through firm resolution, I bury my cock and moan. “Fuck. You make me want to come, baby.”

  “So soon?” she taunts me.

  “You kill me.”

  Cupping her breasts, thrusting slowly, I feel something real come between us. Not just lust. Not quite love. But something dramatic.

  I’m going to lose myself inside her. She knows it. I know it. And she doesn’t care. I’m as deep as I can go, bottoming out, muscles stiff.

  I can’t keep holding back forever. I drive and let go. I’m gone. I’m so fucking gone.

  I shiver and let it all out.

  My cum shoots in harsh waves, spraying the inside of her pussy. I pull out, still going, coating her face so that all of her lips are dripping onto the deck.

  I stagger back, shivering. Unable to get a grip, I stare at her in wonder.

  I am truly fucked.

  How can I exist without this woman? The answer is that I can’t. I won’t be able to last without her. If she decides this is too complicated, I’ll be one hundred percent hooked.

  Then what?

  With grace, she steps away from the chair, chest pumping. She’s drenched.

  “Let me get you a towel,” I mutter.

  She laughs. “You’re lucky I’m on the pill,” she says. “Otherwise, we’d be in trouble.”

  “I’m sorry. I should be more careful, but I get lost in your pussy. You have no idea,” I say

  “I think I get it,” she says, looking at my cock.

  We’re both naked and staring down at the glittery vacant lights of Detroit. “It’s a city like nothing else,” she says.

  “It sure is,” I say. “I love it, and I hate it.”

  “I sometimes can’t believe it exists,” she says.

  We’re a mess. This city is a mess. But everything feels okay.

  I turn and kiss her neck, breathing in her scent one more time. I know, soon enough, she’ll be walking back out that front door. She’ll leave me once again to my booze and business dealings, and then it’s back to normal.

  Back to the bullshit.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “It’s just different,” she says, unable to get the right words out. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m biased because I’m from here, but it’s a-whole-nother world, isn’t it?Here, everyone really has to band together or nothing works.”

  I stare at her curves. “You’re right,” I whisper.

  She’s gorgeous.

  Normally, I don’t fall this hard. I’m usually begging for them to leave. This time, it’s different.

  She has me…

  I grab her two towels, clean her off, and turn on the shower.

  She kisses my chest. “I’m okay. I should go,” she says.

  I smile, massaging her scalp. She groans with pleasure. “You should stay.”

  “I shouldn’t.” She looks down. “If Byron finds out, I’m really screwed. I think I did a good enough job of hiding this, but they might come looking for me in the morning.”

  “Put your car in the garage,” I say. “You’re safe here. Come on. You need to clean off, right?”

  She looks into my eyes and pops her lips slightly. Then, she looks down at my cock, which has started to grow again. “You’ll protect me?” she asks. “If anything happens, you’ll take them on?”

  “I told you, I grew up hard. I wasn’t lying.” I laugh. “I’ll protect you.”

  She glances at the city lights and bites her lip, thinking to herself.

  “What are the pros and cons?” she asks.

  I give this some thought. “Well, the pros are a little obvious. Free booze until you pass out, the best view in all of Detroit, and this hard cock of mine whenever you need it. Plus, I’m actually a great cook. The main con is that you’ll fall head over heels in love with me. And I really can’t deal with something like that, right now,” I say, containing my laughter.

  She laughs, pushing me away. “Is that so?”

  She hops to her feet and makes her way toward my room, ass bouncing as she walks. I’m staring like a hungry animal.

  “That’s right,” I say, following her inside.

  Digging inside my closet, she grabs an old t-shirt of mine, throwing it on.

  “Fine,” she says. “I’ll stay and make myself at home.”

  She jumps onto my bed and reaches for me to come toward her. I walk and drop onto my mattress, lowering between her legs. She straddles my neck and runs her finger across my collarbone.

  Life is good. Life is very good.

  For now.

  Madison


  We don’t catch a wink of sleep.

  We just stay up talking, fucking, and drinking. Life with Rocco is something else. It’s like a dream. Only problem is I’ll have to wake up sooner or later.

  I don’t want to know what that entails.

  “What do you want from this life?” I ask.

  He inhales and chuckles. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

  “Come on. I want to know you. You own basically everything, right? You have all the money you can dream of. What else could you want? I want to know,” she says.

  “Is that what you care about? Money?” he asks. “Is that why you’re with me?”

  He looks almost offended. I’m forced to do damage control.

  “No, not at all,” I tell him. “Money means nothing. It can’t buy you happiness.”

  “You’re right about that,” he says. “I don’t have someone like you.”

  I feel a little embarrassed. “Don’t be facetious,” I say.

  “From the outside, it looks like I have everything in the world. You’re partly right, too. I have a lot more than I thought I could ever have. My wealth keeps growing, but I have no one to share it with. All of these experiences I have, like, when I travel to Europe… I’m always alone. That’s the one thing I wish I could change,” he says.

  “So you’re lonely,” I say.

  “Not lonely,” he corrects me. “Alone. No purpose. No family. What am I supposed to accomplish at my age?”

  I feel oddly connected to him, lying with him like this. My hands grip his muscles as we both stare at his vaulted ceilings.

  Here I am, thinking he’s just some sex-crazed billionaire, but then he comes around and says something real like that.

  Who is this man? What is he doing building hotels for a living? He used to be a criminal…

  When the light creeps in through his windows, I tell him I should go. It’s not that I have anything to do, really. My life is relatively easy, especially since I’ve been ousted from my father’s company. I can’t say I’m happy about that, but it does make it so my days are relatively relaxed.

  “Come on.” He squeezes my ass. “Don’t leave. Where could you possibly go at a time like this?”

  “Home.” I smile, rolling my panties over my ass.

  “No, don’t do that.” He eyes my underwear. “You’re killing me, woman.”