You Don't Own Me: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (The Russian Don Book 1)

by Le Carre, Georgia

  Lowering my hands, I begin caressing myself. Running them over my neck, circling my bare breasts, cupping the soft mounds of my bosom, and massaging them while my head is thrown back. I feel the ache in my nipples and rub my fingers lightly over the hardened swollen buds.

  A sigh of pleasure escapes my mouth.

  My hand roams lower and lower until it reaches the top of my panties. I linger tantalizingly before slowly letting my fingers slip behind the elastic. I look up to see his reaction. His gaze is transfixed on my fingers and he has a massive hard on. I move my finger in a circular motion. My breath hitches and becomes uneven.

  ‘Aaaa …’ I gasp.

  I move to the coffee table and sit perkily on it. I am only three feet away from him. I place both hands on my knees, and I draw them up and spread them so he can see just how wet the material of my panties are. Leaving my legs suspended open, I lean back on one hand while the other slips over the crotch of my panties.

  ‘Oooo …’ I coo, my voice as breathy as Jane Birkin’s.

  Hooking a finger into the side, I push the material out of the way and expose the glistening pink folds beneath. I let my clit protrude for a whole three seconds, or at least until his gaze comes up to meet mine. His eyes are dark with lust. There never was anything for me to worry about. He really, really, really still wants me.

  He pushes forward suddenly and, grabbing my arm, pulls me forward, and with hair flying and legs flailing, I tumble into his arms. My cap slides down and falls in my lap.

  ‘Hey,’ I protest. ‘I’m not finished.’

  ‘Sorry. Time’s up. I can’t wait anymore,’ he says, his right hand ripping my panties.

  He steps out of his pants and pulls his briefs off in a hurry. He lowers his head onto the couch and, holding me by the waist, lifts me up and over his face. He maneuvers my crotch over his mouth and slowly lowers my wet pussy over his extended waiting tongue. The hot, velvety tongue penetrates my flesh, and I cry out with pleasure and squirm. Holding me tight, he pumps in and out of me a few times.

  ‘Oh, mon amour,’ Jane Birkin whispers and sighs.

  Ah, the pleasure. My head rolls back with how good a tongue fuck feels. I have never had one. His tongue probes every inch of my pussy. Then he moves me back a little and licks my clit. I place both my palms over his head and just close my eyes, enjoying the erotic sensation. I moan deliriously when he clamps his mouth around my clit and sucks it until my muscles start contracting.

  I explode in a terrific rush. As I climax, he moves me again and fills my pussy with his tongue and I come hard on it.

  ‘Oh my God,’ I breathe, as he carries on slurping at my dripping pussy.

  He wraps his hands around my ribcage and starts to move my body down his. I realize that he is about to lower me onto his cock.

  ‘We need a condom,’ I whisper urgently.

  He stills, his expression unreadable, then nods and, putting me aside, goes to get one. When he comes back he rolls it onto his shaft and looks at me.

  ‘Open your legs and show me again,’ he says.

  I obey and he inserts a finger into it. Instantly, my muscles clench around it. He takes his finger out and holds it in front of my mouth.

  ‘Suck it,’ he says.

  I open my mouth and suck his fingers, tasting the musky sweetness of my own juices. He sits down and, putting his hands around my waist, lifts me onto his lap. He lets my body hover over his cock. I hold it steady and he lowers me onto it. Slowly he travels deeper and deeper into my body.

  ‘You belong to me now,’ he says harshly. ‘I’m going so deep into your body that you’ll never even be able to think of another man inside you.’

  And he does. He goes so deep I never thought anyone could go that far. My body breaks out in goose pimples and I move restlessly, lifting myself away from the relentless impaling, but he tightens his hold on my body and, keeping me tightly in place, carries on pushing me down onto his massive shaft.

  ‘That’s enough now,’ I groan.

  ‘No, you can take more,’ he insists. ‘Suck me in.’

  So I let him go deeper and deeper into me until I can bear it no more and I cry out.

  ‘You’re mine,’ he says, and pushes that last tiny bit deeper into me. And at that moment I feel him tense, his nostrils flaring as he climaxes hard, so hard he leaves fingerprints on my waist.

  ‘I claim you as mine,’ he growls gutturally in my ear.

  Thirty-one

  SHANE

  I am jerked awake by the sound of the doorbell. I look at my watch. It’s nearly two o’clock in the morning. Snow, too exhausted to fully awaken, stirs beside me and mumbles something.

  ‘Go back to sleep,’ I whisper, and vault out of bed.

  I pull on my jeans and, with my heart hammering, I sprint to the door. I did not expect retaliation so soon. I’m not ready. I switch on the security video camera and see Jake standing there. For a second I blink. What the fuck is he doing here at this time? And then I know. I buzz him into the building and run my fingers through my hair. I really didn’t want to deal with this now. I hear a soft rap on the door and I open it.

  My brother comes in and he looks as fresh as a fucking daisy.

  ‘Want a whiskey?’ I offer.

  ‘Yeah,’ he says, and leads the way to the living room.

  I pour us both large doubles. I down mine in one and move towards him with his.

  ‘Is it true?’ he asks.

  ‘Is what true?’

  ‘You’re going with Lenny’s girl.’

  I sigh. ‘Who told you?’

  His mouth twists. ‘Would you believe, one of your dancers?’

  ‘Good old Nikki,’ I say.

  ‘Do you know I didn’t believe it? You’re going out with Lenny’s girl.’

  ‘Stop fucking calling her Lenny’s girl. She’s not his girl. She’s mine.’

  My brother stands and paces the floor. He seems barely able to keep his cool.

  He turns suddenly to me. ‘I never expected this from you. From a hothead like Dom, maybe. But you! You’re too smart to pull a stunt like this. For God’s sake, Shane. What are you thinking?’

  ‘It’s done now,’ I say quietly.

  ‘No, it’s not. Walk away and I’ll work something out with him.’

  ‘No,’ I say firmly. I have never said no to my brother. My respect, loyalty and love for him is so great I would truly lay down my life for him.

  He frowns. ‘Is she worth it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He stares at me with disbelief ‘Do you even realize what this means? You take his woman and you are declaring war. He’s not going to ask you to put your hands up for a bare-knuckle fight. He’s going to hire someone to knock you off when you least expect it.’

  ‘I’m prepared to die for her,’ I say seriously.

  His eyes flash angrily. ‘You’re prepared to die for her?’ he rages. ‘What the hell, Shane? You’re a fucking kid. You haven’t even lived yet and you’re prepared to die for her? No woman is worth that.’

  ‘Would you die for Lily?’ I ask quietly.

  He starts and then he closes his eyes in defeat. ‘How long have you known her?’

  ‘A few days.’

  ‘Right,’ he says sarcastically.

  ‘I know what I want, Jake.’

  He sighs tiredly. ‘All right, Shane. Leave it with me. I’ll sort it out somehow.’

  ‘I don’t want you or Dom to get involved.’

  He stares at me in surprise.

  ‘This is my shit and I’ll sort it out.’

  I see a flash of temper in his eyes. ‘Now you’re really behaving like a kid. You can’t handle Lenny on your own, Shane. He’s a fucking snake. He’ll clap you on the back and sincerely congratulate you for winning his girl and then bash your head in with a hammer two days later.’

  ‘I have a plan.’

  His eyes betray his disbelief that I could actually have a workable plan. I guess I’ll be his snot-nosed
kid brother forever.

  ‘What’s the plan?’ he asks slowly.

  ‘I’ve already said. I’m not involving you or Dom in this.’

  He stands in frustration. ‘Now you’re being ridiculous. We’re a family. When we fight as a family we’re stronger.’

  ‘Not this time. This time I go it alone.’

  ‘Why? What are you trying to prove?’ he asks with barely controlled impatience.

  ‘Jake, ever since Dad died, you’ve been fighting all our battles for us. You put your own life on hold to keep this family together. Don’t think I don’t know how you used to come home and cut that cross into your own body. You did loathsome things so we could all eat. But now you have a family of your own. And for the first time you’re happy. And I’d rather die than take that away from you.’

  He sits down suddenly and gazes down at the floor. ‘I can’t let you deal with him on your own, Shane. You don’t know what he’s capable of. I do.’ He looks up into my eyes. ‘I used to work with him. And I know you can’t take Lenny’s girl and walk away unscathed.’

  ‘He doesn’t love her, Jake.’

  ‘I know he doesn’t love her, Shane. He’s a psychopath. He doesn’t love anyone but himself. But it’s a pride thing. He’ll take great pleasure in hunting you down and parading her on his arm in all the places where he’s known.’

  ‘Jake, you have to trust me when I say I know what I’m doing.’

  ‘Oh, fuck,’ he says, and runs both his hands through his hair. ‘At least tell me what you’re planning. I promise not to interfere.’

  I look at him incredulously. ‘You’re not going to interfere? That’s a laugh. You can as much stop yourself from getting involved as I can give her back to him.’

  He gives a long sigh. ‘Just remember I’m here for you. No matter what.’ He sighs again. ‘And whatever you are planning to do you better do it fast. Word gets around.’

  No … do not go around bragging, no …

  That you’ve stolen my heart

  And I’ve nothing more to give…

  -The loser, Enrique Iglesias

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tLcfAnN2QgY&list=RDGMEMYvZjTda73N9EL0Qo2TnYngVMtLcfAnN2QgY

  Thirty-two

  SNOW

  After I hear Jake’s words to Shane, I creep back to bed and, turning on my side, breathe deeply and evenly until I hear the front door close and Shane comes back into the room minutes later. He stands for a good few minutes looking down at me, but I just pretend to be sleeping. Finally, he goes to his side of the bed and quietly slips in.

  For a long time he doesn’t sleep. He just lays on his back staring at the wall. I can feel him thinking. Planning whatever it is that he is arranging. He never touches me. A last I hear his breath become even and he sleeps, but I never fall asleep again.

  When morning comes, I carefully burrow under the cover and gently lick his sleeping cock. I am so gentle I do not startle him awake. I awaken him gently. His hand moves down and strokes my hair as his cock hardens with surprising rapidity. I take the beautiful, porcelain-smooth thing into my mouth, and let it slide along my tongue.

  Oh! Shane.

  It must have been delectable for him too, because he groans. A low, long sound of pure pleasure. He puts his hands around my head, gently forcing his cock to the back of my throat. His cock pulses and throbs in my mouth as if holding back from spilling its hot milk down my throat. I let him hold me there. If only he would hold me there forever. A few drops of pre-cum touch the back of my throat and I swallow them eagerly.

  I drank my lover.

  Let him be part of me. The action, the swallowing movement of my mouth excites him, and he begins to pull me up and down his shaft until his body clenches and he explodes. The force of his orgasm bursts inside my mouth, thick spurts of semen pouring into my throat. This I will take with me.

  And I will remember this morning forever.

  He pulls me up his naked, warm body and kisses me deeply. He rolls me onto my back and touches my naked pussy. He smiles slowly.

  ‘You’re wet,’ he accuses.

  ‘And what are you going to do about it then, big boy?’ I ask.

  ‘I’m going to eat you,’ he says, and goes down on me.

  My climax when it comes is bitter-sweet. Sweet because my whole body arches and strains with waves of pure bliss that feel as if they will go on forever. Bitter because they stop. And when they stop I lie drained and almost tearful.

  Everything must come to an end.

  But the pain of letting go is almost too much to bear. When you find something so beautiful you can’t be expected not to cry when you are told you can’t have it. Tears swim in my eyes. I blink them away.

  He comes up my body and rests on his elbows. ‘Hey, are you OK?’ His eyes are concerned.

  ‘Yeah, it was a really good orgasm,’ I say, and I even manage to smile up at him.

  He grins. ‘How good was it?’

  ‘Like a box of chocolates and a newborn German Sheppard puppy called Ghengis?’

  ‘Really? As good as all that,’ he teases.

  ‘Yes, as good as that.’

  He kisses the tip of my nose. ‘Oh, Snow. There is just no one like you.’

  ‘That’s true,’ I say, and kiss the tip of his nose. Against my thigh I feel his cock grow again.

  ‘Really? You can’t be wanting it again,’ I say with a laugh.

  ‘I’m fucking starving for you. But first, a trip to the toilet is in order. I don’t want to be peeing inside you.’

  ‘Ugh, you’re disgusting.’

  He gets off me laughing and disappears into the toilet. I watch his nude body walk away from me avidly. I will remember this.

  When he comes back he sheathes his cock and pushes deep into me. I cry out. Not with pain or pleasure, but with gratitude. I will have this until the day I die. For the first time in my life I understood women who never remarried after they lost their love. Nobody else is good enough. Once you get that one person who is right for you, you will never again want anybody else.

  Maybe I will marry. Actually, of course I will marry, my mother will make sure that I do, but I will never, never, never love like this again. Never.

  And when we come we lock eyes with each other. It is beautiful.

  ‘I’m yours,’ I whisper, wrapping my legs around him tightly.

  ‘Like you won’t believe,’ he whispers back.

  Our bodies entwined, we lie there. It’s hard to look into his eyes. They are so blue, so sincere, so awesome. I want to tell him. I want to tell him that I love him like I have never and will never love again, but I realize that my declaration would be neither here nor there.

  So many women must have expressed that sentiment. So what if I do too. No, I won’t. It will be my little secret. No one will ever know. Not him, not my mother or my father, or anyone. Maybe I will tell my grandchildren one day. If I have them. If I am not contaminated with HIV or even full-blown AIDS.

  ‘Listen,’ he says. ‘I’ve got a full day today. Can you entertain yourself for a few hours?’

  I smile. Can he see how much love I have for him? ‘Sure, I’ll clean the flat or something.’

  ‘No, don’t do that. I’ve got a woman coming in to do that. She’ll come around about two this afternoon.’

  ‘I’ll read a book,’ I say quietly.

  ‘Good girl.’ He pauses. ‘Only thing, don’t leave the apartment will you?’ If you need anything just call me and I’ll arrange for it to be brought to you.’

  ‘I don’t need anything, Shane.’

  We get out of bed and use the bathroom together. It should have been mundane, a little domestic scene, but it is not. It is special. And it makes me think. How stupid we human beings are. We think that just because we do something all the time it is not special. It is. Just think that tomorrow is the last time you will ever brush your teeth with the one you love. See what I mean now?

  So we brush our teeth and use the toilet. And he do
esn’t appreciate it, because for him it is just another boring task, and he thinks he will do it tomorrow with me too.

  When he says, ‘What do you want to have for breakfast?’

  I know exactly what I want. ‘I’ll make breakfast,’ I say.

  He smiles. ‘You don’t cook.’

  ‘You’ll eat my burnt toast and like it,’ I say with mock severity.

  A strange look crosses his face, but I don’t ask that thing that all lovers who are confident of their place in a relationship ask. ‘What? What are you thinking of?

  Instead, I go into the kitchen. I know exactly what I am recreating. I switch on the oven. 220 degree Fahrenheit. I take the cherry plum jam out of the fridge and put a few spoonfuls on two plates. I take the plates to the top of the oven and I put them there so they will be at room temperature when we have it.

  I open the oven door and a blast of hot air hits me in the face. Perfect. I put the brioche rolls onto the metal tray and slide them in. I squeeze oranges and pour the juice into two glasses. I place the container of unsalted butter on the table and set it with knifes and spoons and forks. And the whole time Shane sits at the table and watches me with slightly raised eyebrows.

  I take the brioches out of the oven, place them on the table, and sit next to him.

  Shane looks at me. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Bon appétit,’ I say.

  I watch him tear into the brioche. I watch the steam rise from the inside. I watch him cut a small bit of cold butter and lay it on the corner of the brioche that he has already spooned the cherry plum jam on. I greedily watch him put it into his mouth. I close my eyes because I know exactly how it feels and tastes in his mouth. Cold butter, hot pastry, warm jam.

  I will remember this forever.

  We eat and we drink and then it is time for him to leave. He doesn’t kiss me deeply the way people who say goodbye do. He thinks he will be back in a few hours. He thinks I will be here when he comes home. He doesn’t know I love him too much to allow him to ever risk his life for me.

  I walk him to the door and kiss him goodbye as if I am kissing him before he goes to work. He walks out to the lift. I stand and watch him. The doors of the lift open. He goes in.