by V. F. Mason
But then, wouldn't my going with her teach Rosa a lesson about not keeping shit from me? Kind of like tasting her own medicine? I instantly rejected the fleeting thought, because no matter how angry I was with her, I had no desire to hurt my girl.
However, my silence confused both women, and Rosa rose, throwing the menu on the table, and poking a finger at me, murmured loudly, “Screw this.” And with that, she darted away before I could even curse.
“Dominic, I’m sorry,” Sonya said.
I nodded and, without a backward glance, followed my woman in time to see her hop in Lorenzo’s car and then drive off at a high speed into the night. Vlad already held the door open for me, while Vitya laughed his ass off.
“Trouble in paradise, huh?”
“Idi nahyi.” Which basically meant fuck you in Russian, but it only amused him more.
With all those displays of rebelliousness, she made something abundantly clear for me.
She didn't need a tame Dominic who would be a romantic soul to woo her ass.
She needed the pakhan of the Bratva, and she’d finally get him.
Rosa
Entering the house, I passed by my dad, who was deep in conversation with Lucretia. I warned, “Not a word.” He raised his brow, but shrugged as I ran toward the garden. My hands itched to fire several bullets to settle down the fury seeping through every bone in my body like a blazing wildfire.
Want to taste our wine, Dominic?
You look so good, Mr. Dominic.
Mr. Dominic. Blah blah blah.
Sonya couldn't make the fact clearer, if she tried, how much she wanted my man to fuck her senselessly right on the spot. And why the hell did he hesitate?
This whole dating thing ended up being confusing as hell and didn't bring me much joy, because my body buzzed and longed for a thing I couldn't name, and Dominic wasn't delivering. Stopping outside for a deep breath, I clenched my fists in frustration.
Cold metal circled around my neck as the cross rested on my collarbone. Strong hands wrapped around my waist as my back was pulled in to a hot chest, and my breath hitched. Peppermint breath fanned my cheek as Dom’s gentle fingers removed the hair strands from the crook of my neck and his lips trailed down to my shoulder, leaving small bite marks in their wake.
“Why did you go, krasavica?” he mused, as his left hand slowly slid up, leaving burning sensations all over my stomach, and ended up on the underside of my breast as he palmed it gently. Pressing his lips to my ear, he murmured, “Answer me.”
Shaking my head in denial, because the last thing I wanted to admit to him was the jealousy I felt toward the hostess or the longings I couldn't name or explain, but Dominic couldn't accept it. In an instant, he spun me around and took my mouth in a passionate kiss, pushing his tongue deep, entwining it with mine, and I groaned as his hands palmed and squeezed my ass.
He picked me up, allowing my legs to wrap around his waist as my hands tangled in his hair. My black, silky hair acted like a shield, covering our intimate moment from prying eyes as we continued to kiss. His lips nipped mine, sucking on my lower one and then tugging it, and immediately soothed it with the velvet touch of his tongue.
“I want to devour you.” He tugged on the cross on my neck and I cried out in pain as the chain dug a bit too roughly into my neck. “So everyone’d know who made you feel this way.” He sucked harder on my neck. “So they’d know to never come closer than fifty feet of you.” He groaned in pleasure. “Fuck, how I wish it would happen.” He pressed his head tighter to me as mine swirled with all kinds of electrifying sensations I had no idea existed. I couldn't help but wonder about my dad inside my house.
“Someone could see us.”
Capturing my mouth with his for a short kiss, he replied while we took a moment to breathe, “Let them.”
Palming his head and stilling any movement, I begged, “Not my dad, please.”
He clenched his fist, wrapping my hair around it, and held my back with the other, as he walked to the greenhouse, confusing me.
“Why not an alcove?”
He sent me an odd look. “Really? It opens up right on his window.”
Hanging my mouth open, which probably was very unromantic-like in this situation, but… “His room is located at the far end of the house.”
He shook his head in disagreement. “Darling, tell me whatever you want, but it’s his room.” I probably would have argued ‘til my last breath, but then we entered the greenhouse, and the humidity and smell of orchids overpowered everything else. He placed me on the bare wooden table as his hands pulled my knees apart and he stepped between them. His amber eyes held mine, as he gently ran his knuckles over my cheek.
“I’ve never had sex,” I blabbed, and he blinked a few times in confusion. He had been dating me for a month, and I suspected that maybe he thought we’d seal the deal then, but no such stuff.
As much as I wanted him, sex just wasn't on my mind right now. “So we won’t have intercourse,” I voiced. Man, how lame was that? Way to ruin a moment. Since he still stayed silent, I got nervous and lashed out. “Well, if that’s all the action—” I shifted my hips to slide to the side and leave, but he grabbed my hips, digging his fingers in painfully, as his intense stare caused my breath to hitch, and I was afraid to move.
“I know.” He swallowed. “And trust me, I’m honored I’ll be your first and last.” The butterflies flew in my stomach, but at the same time, his chauvinistic, archaic thoughts pissed me off.
“No one said you’ll be my first, or last for that matter.”
Expecting some brute reply, he shocked me with his half smile as he slowly lowered the zipper at my back. The dress slid down to my waist, leaving me naked from the belly up. The garment didn't allow a bra, and it was too hot for it anyway.
His eyes darkened with intense craving as he saw my full breasts for the first time. He explored my neck, drinking from my mouth, and all thoughts about being difficult flew from my mind. His thumbed my puckered, pink nipples, and electrifying sensations spread through me, unfamiliar in their wake and intensity.
Gasping into his mouth, I threw my head back, entwining my fingers in his hair as he shifted his mouth lower, licking and sucking around my neck then down to my collarbone, and finally his breath fanned over my areola. A beat, and his lips enclosed over one as he ravaged it gently, if such a combination was possible. A moan of contentment slipped past my lips, but it didn't last long as he maneuvered to the other nipple and repeated the action, allowing me to ride the bliss his burning touches created.
“Rosa, my delicate flower,” he whispered over my skin, and kneeled in front of me, our height difference allowing his chest to be level with me. Putting my legs over his shoulders, he wrapped them around his neck, and a deep flush spread over my skin from the intimate position. Hiking my dress up, a cold breeze swept over me and aroused my heated flesh more. “So innocent.” Shoving my lacy white panties to the side, he leaned forward, inhaling me, as he murmured, “So fucking sweet,” right before he bit my lower lips, his tongue slowly licking up from my center to my clit, then sucking on the bud eagerly. A cry of utter pleasure echoed in the greenhouse.
Nipping my sensitive skin, he flattened his tongue and swept it over my pussy, creating an electrifying charge inside me as my hands dug harder into the wood, while my whole body leaned on my arms. I read so many freaking books that had described the act of oral sex multiple times in different variations, but none came close to the actual sensations awakening every nerve in my body, lifting me higher than I ever was before. But then, he entered me with one finger, probing inside my tight opening, and immediately it sucked him in, even though a sting of pain happened due to the unfamiliar intrusion.
“Dominic.” My voice trembled. I couldn't even keep my eyes open to watch him perform this act with such desire and hunger. Instead of answering me, he pushed one more finger inside and latched onto my clit with all his force while he found some spot inside me, which made
all the difference. Instantly, out-of-this-freaking-world bliss assaulted me, and tiny sparks ran down my back as my toes curled in my sandals. My mouth opened to release a banshee scream with my orgasm, but he stood rapidly and covered it with his palm, the one still holding some of my juices. I swept my tongue over it, tasting myself on it as my teeth bit into his skin to hold back.
Removing his hand, he crushed his mouth over mine. We dueled for dominance in a kiss so fierce, yet so gentle, I couldn't resist wrapping my legs around him and holding him closer as his erection pressed into my stomach. “You didn’t come?” I said, somewhat disappointed, and a bit shocked, because, by the feel of it, he needed it really badly.
He chuckled. “Hardly, darling. I’ll have to save it for the shower with the memory of your sweet taste on my tongue.” My cheeks heated as he pressed his forehead against mine. “Moya krasavica.” Butterflies settled in my stomach. I loved when he called me that. “Things will change.”
“I know.”
“Tell me,” he insisted, and I exhaled a heavy breath.
“I didn't tell you, because subconsciously, I wanted you to show me your possessive side.”
He grabbed the back of my neck, gazing at my eyes intensely. “No more of this shit, Rosa.” Nodding, I rested my cheek on his shoulder. “Damian has a wedding in a month and a half.”
“I know. I got an invitation.” It actually surprised me he was willing to wait that long, but apparently they decided to do a big celebration for friends and family.
“We will go together.” A statement, a fact, but never a question.
Grinning, I nipped his neck and nuzzled his jaw. “Okay.”
“Good. One more month, Rosa. And then you are fucking mine.” Shit, I might have awakened the beast. Although no promises were exchanged between us, I was aware he looked at it as a life commitment.
But as much as I loved how satisfying he was for my heart and body, I dreaded the moment I would have to refuse going with him to his homeland, because I just wasn't ready to give up my studies or freedom. “One more month.”
One more month before all hell would break loose.
Man with the dragon tattoo
Vivian Jordan turned out to be a tough nut to crack, but thankfully, her father was impressed with my money and charm, enough to allow me to get closer to her. Still she kept on rejecting me on every turn, and somehow I doubted it had anything to do with her husband.
Bitch was hardly good to look at. In my mind, she should be grateful I even paid attention to her. Not that I would enjoy fucking the sovietnik’s seconds, but the idea of him suffering would push my satisfaction higher.
Radmir was out of isolation, which meant tonight he would finally get the knife wound to end his life. Specifically, a knife that had Italian Mafia written all over it, and if I was sure of one thing, it was the knowledge that the pakhan never forgave deception.
And his future father-in-law wouldn't be an exception to the rule.
Boring. Boring. Boring.
Whatever activity crossed my mind to begin, it all seemed boring and uninteresting.
Knitting? I jabbed my fingers so many times and had to put Band-Aids all over, not to mention I couldn't make a scarf like Dorothy. Everything was round and useless.
Reading? Dorothy was generous enough to give me her Kindle, but that chick preferred to read some kind of thrillers and psychological dramas along with fantasies. As much as it sounded cool to start one, I just couldn't stomach all those genres in big quantities. The only romances she had were old paperbacks with asshole heroes. Plus, they weren't as steamy as I liked.
Yeah, being a virgin sucked. The whole almost rape thing got me thinking that if it ever happened again, I definitely didn’t want my first time to be forced sex. So the first opportunity I had after I left, I planned to have a one-night stand, even if everything inside me rebelled at the idea.
Cooking and gardening? As much as it was interesting to learn from Quinn and my heart soared at the sight of the things that blossomed under my care, I couldn't spend one more day focusing on this shit. Quinn and Dorothy owned a local diner, so they supplied me with food, but they couldn't stay here anymore. He used the cabin for relaxation, but with the busy summer season, they needed the extra set of hands. Quinn trusted me with the cabin, and they checked once a week on me.
So I made a bold decision, which probably would bite me in the ass, but I didn't care. Wearing my sweater and Dory’s worn out Uggs—no matter the heat, the cold always somehow seeped into my bones—I decided to explore the forest, and the Hudson River I’d never seen before. The cliffs were dangerous, but at the same time, the landscape from the window appeared to be beautiful.
The rocks and ground crackled under my shoes as my eyes explored nature. Tall, fully leafed, green trees, mushrooms scattered around, birds chirping along with some squirrels running around like lightning. Leaving a bit of bread and some nuts I had at the cabin on the ground, I continued my walk as I deeply inhaled the fresh air, and I opened my arms wide enjoying the breeze.
The sound of waves crashing caught my attention, and with a frown, I followed it and, in a few steps, I emerged from the forest to the shore.
The blue water glistened in the sunlight as the white seagulls flew above me, and I became mesmerized with the view.
Why hadn't my dad taken me here before? But before I could dwell on this thought, I noticed something weird on the shore. The area was deserted. After all, Monday morning was not the most popular time to hang out for fishermen or anyone else, but under a black fishing net lay someone. Frowning, I sped up my walk and quickly kneeled next to the body, finding a man approximately ten years older than I was. Blood coated his grey shirt. He had a fishing net wrapped around his neck, scarring the flesh, and a deep wound on his head.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered, frantically searching for some kind of help, but no one was there. Checking his pulse, I relaxed a bit, discovering he was still breathing, but my mind spun thinking about a solution.
Think, Rosa. Think!
I needed a knife and car to get him back to the cabin, to help him out somehow.
Jeep! Quinn’s Jeep was still there. She was supposed to come after it this week. Running as fast as I could, I ended back at the cabin, hopped in the Jeep, blessing Alfonso for teaching me how to drive a vehicle, and in record time, I ended back at the shore.
Still, no one to help.
Cutting the fishing net to free him, I winced at his condition. I placed my hands under his arm pits, scooping him up and up, although hell, he was heavy compared to me. Opening the Jeep door, I almost cried, because I just couldn't get him in without help.
Then, an idea, like a light bulb clicking on, popped into my head. Taking the surfboard Dorothy had on top of the Jeep for her upcoming tournament, I put the man on it, strapping his body with the ropes. Then I attached it to the back of the car and sat in the driver’s seat. Driving slowly, I almost sang “Hallelujah,” because the road wasn't bumpy or rutted. In six minutes—I counted due to the information in all the medical books I loved to read—we made it back, and I pulled him inside.
And for the next two hours, I used everything I knew and all I could find in the available books to save his life.
Rosa
“You should eat more,” Dad said, as his eyes critically scanned my body in the short black wrap dress. Along with mocha heels, I looked as though I was attending a funeral instead of hosting Dad’s dinner party.
Rolling my eyes and fixing my hair in a bun on top of my head, I replied, “I eat enough.” Pointing at the candy wrappers scattered on my bedside table, I chuckled. “See? Can’t resist.”
He scowled. “I meant like dinners and breakfast.” Sighing heavily, finally satisfied with my look, although I seriously hated this dress Dad pushed me to wear, I spun around and gazed at him as my eyes held warning.
“You promised.”
He cursed in Italian, which meant he was highly frustrated, then no
dded. “Fine, but I’m still your father and have the right to be concerned.” He finished his short lecture, probably what he was aiming for, and I laced my fingers through his as the doorbell rang, indicating guests were here.
“Concern, yes, but not demanding. Otherwise, I won’t stay here, and you won’t be able to stop me.”
His lips thinned, as he muttered, “I should have killed Damian Scott when I had the chance.” Restraining my laughter, we went downstairs to greet the guests.
When Damian found out who my father was, he went to him, and they came to some kind of understanding that it was safer for the time being for me to stay with Damian. However, both of them shared the small fact that Dad had his gun pointed at Damian’s head, not that Damian could easily be intimidated. The reason Dad currently hated him, though, had to do with my bank account and apartment in an elite neighborhood in Manhattan. He knew how my dad tried to restrict my freedom and schooling back in the day, so he made sure I had the means to be on my own until I had my medical degree. Because no matter what had happened, my dream of becoming a surgeon didn't die, and I still wanted to pursue it, even if I finished much later than anyone else.
We were right on time, as Lucretia opened the door, and the first loud voices echoed in the house as guests entered. For tonight, Dad invited only Allegro, his best friend since childhood, who used to be his counselor equivalent of a sovietnik in Cosa Nostra, but retired when his wife got cancer. The action didn't save Felicia, as far as I knew, and it saddened me, because she was a nice woman. Dad allowed it, and he was still part of the familia.
Before I could say anything or run into his arms as I used to do as a kid, muscled hands picked me up and spun me around the room. I squealed and held tight to his broad shoulders. Once the world stopped spinning, I was placed back on the floor, and we both leaned back as green mischievous eyes held mine.
Oh, my God.