by S. W. Frank
He refused to lend a hand as she struggled with his shorts, finding it difficult to get past his muscular thighs. He deliberately hindered her efforts until she went stiff and grabbed him by the ears the way a stern mom would do to a badass kid. “Stop playing hard to get. I’m not chasing you anymore.”
Alfonzo put his mouth to her breast and talked out the side of his mouth imitative of an old cartoon character named Popeye. “Anything worth having isn’t an easy achievement, now hustle BK if you want to hop a ride uptown.”
Selange laughed hysterically. “Oh my god, you are really full of yourself!”
Impatient, he removed his shorts with ease, gripped her thighs and pushed up to her honey-filled tunnel, slurping the sides with his dick. She smiled and then moaned in pleasure, widening, getting greedy with her pussy by clamping and demanding his heavy cream with the dessert. He massaged her buttocks, keeping her low and close as he sucked her sweet tits, massaging inside in every direction, confusing the shit out of her until she couldn’t keep up. He switched gears with his dick like a pro, stroked the bone cutting her ass in half with his fingers, entering her opening and gave her double thrusting. She sucked in sharply, leaned forward gasping, breasts taut and moaning in frenzied decadence her adoration.
Selange was enraptured, holding and kissing his skin with hot breaths, promising him everything but she's all he wanted. Her roller fell loose when she arched to the ceiling in willing surrender when her husband’s fire consumed her movements.
She was pliant, her creamy honey oozed and Selange bit her lip unable to withstand the energetic caresses and barely held on as she rode. The posterior finger stimulation and Alfonzo’s heavy strokes plugging her pussy were euphoric.
Alfonzo’s toes curled, experiencing the elation with heat in his groin and his heart into his woman. Selange had to understand; his trash talk to her would always have affectionate solid dick and finger lashings –after.
Alfonzo grunt in a beastly fashion. He desired more….many more years to see their children grow and hear a wife talk trash to a pro.
Chapter Two
A heavy downpour brought a misty cloud of gray-white steam that lifted over Haussmannian Paris. The wide boulevards in the heart of the city with buildings of regulatory heights and designs were monotonous in a regular visitor’s opinion. The old buildings, thousands in fact were destroyed to provide uniformity as a defense during the time of war. There's always a conflict brewing somewhere, unseen except by those caught in the middle.
The City of Lights held a dull filtering at night due to the heavy rain. The men walking side by side with umbrellas were deep in conversation. The thinner of the pair adjusted the large umbrella as he spoke. They walked toward their cars and soon they would depart in different directions. This was to be their last meeting to discuss the thorn clinging to their feet. The ascension of an outsider had usurped an old tradition. Men have egos, so do women. Alfonzo Diaz-Giacanti unknowingly struck at the artery of too many with his disavowal of old agreements.
“So we have agreed si?” The thin man said when he stopped at the door of his car, reaching in his pocket for the key.
“Si.” A brusque reply carried on wet molecules.
“He has aligned himself with many foreigners who are not part of the circle, Jews, blacks, Spanish and the Asians.” The thinner person scoffed. “A Latino is not a Sicilian or Mafiosi of Italia.”
The other man nodded.
“Leak the information to the Cubans. Let his Spanish brothers do the deed. We will give them full access to Italia. When it is done we will have a private celebration.” The car beeped and the speaker placed his hand on the door handle and then paused. He had a thought. “Ensure the Dichenzos’ are not harmed. I believe they may be useful alive, besides they are one of us. I have no qualms with them. I am fond of Sophie.”
“But, the Dichenzos’ will not –”
“They will not go against our ways. Gli italiani sono uno.”
When the speaker entered the car his companion bustled across the street to an awaiting automobile idling at the curb. He settled in the back seat and nodded to the chauffeur. They traveled several kilometers in the opposite direction away from the car occupied by an issuer of orders, whose small frame belied his influential position in La Costra Nostra.
On quiet French soil, a loud explosion caused the ground to vibrate. The chauffeur held firm to the steering wheel, his eyes connecting to his passenger. Flames consumed the fog; heat caused the air to warm, alarms blared from cars.
The passenger slowly turned to view the wreckage. He did not need to strain his eyes through the smoke. Vision isn't required to confirm what he planned was executed.
Trust... there is no trust when men fight for power. Like good sex, the sensation brings leakage from the tip of the corona simply thinking about the pleasurable experience.
The metal pieces crashed to the ground and the passenger relaxed against the plush Italian leather.
Too many presume they are the only person in charge, when there are many. He frowned. What arrogance exists within people to believe such a thing? The world goes round by the cooperative efforts of strategic human links.
He disagreed with his counterpart, Italians do not always stick together; nobody does as they scramble to gain a powerful position. Starvation in a sea of self-important men leads to cannibalism. Signore Magaleni had plans. He had adhered to a bargain that would elevate his position within a secret organization.
He scoffed, there are deals made for the good of the ancient families. His investment was the future, thus keeping his end of the agreement ensured his children’s future. An upstart was eliminated, yet there were many rising because of the lack of cooperation from the American, Alfonzo. The Giacanti ring was a nice bauble, but there are people who were his equal that he failed to acknowledge.
The young are full of themselves!
He smirked, checked the time on his platinum chronograph with black diamond bezels and frowned. He must return to Sicily; he had a very important engagement to attend. Instead of a bloody war, his presence was required at a civil ceremony to blend families and then he would meet with his lover to celebrate properly.
~
Nico waited at the door –angry that Bianca had the baby and failed to inform him. He suspected Bruno DeMarco’s advisement was the reason. Her meddling father and brothers sought to conceal the child’s parentage and Nico refused to participate in such a harmful deception. His son will have truth from the beginning and nothing less from his –papa!
Thanks to Sophie, he learned Bianca decided to leave Bruno’s estate for her vacation home in Costa Smeralda, in the northern region of Sardinia.
The solid house was nestled beyond the ancient rocks with a view of the shoreline. Alberti had several properties under aliases throughout Italy, each breathtaking prime real estate and secluded.
The sun had set and he could see far across the sandy seaside where racing yachts had docked. They were impressive vessels, similar to the one Alberti bequeathed to him. Nico actually would love to have the irritant back because there are times he required his wisdom. Moments like this when his temper boiled because he stood outside a house like a solicitor. The rage within had risen as he thought of another day when Crazy Nicky held him at gunpoint to prevent his entry to see Selange and the babies. Feeling extremely pissed was an understatement, then and now. He considered kicking open the goddamn door, instead he waited, rang the buzzer again, looked in the su
rveillance camera and then suddenly a guard appeared.
“Mi dispiace Don Serano, Signora Luca was asleep and I had to ask her permission before answering.”
Nico pushed past security. “Where is she?”
Bianca stood at the top of the stairs. “Ciao Nicolo. Please do not shout, the bambino is asleep.”
He heard the door click. The guard went back under his rock. Nico snarled a reply to her formal address of his name. “Back to formalities, aren’t we past that Bianca?” he said while climbing the stairs. At the top, he asked, “Where is my son?”
“In his room.” She led the way to the nursery.
Nico could smell her hair; freshly washed jasmine is a pleasant scent. He walked to the crib and peered down at the infant. Alexandros was bald, with Bianca’s fair skin. The baby was large for a newborn, which Nico considered a blessing. At least the boy had the DNA of a Giacanti.
He put a finger to the baby’s hand. The skin was soft.
“He’s handsome, big, too.” Nico commented.
“Like his papa.” Bianca complimented.
“I’d prefer you cease the flattery Bianca, we’re not traveling down that road again,” Nico replied. He had made a moral promise which he planned to honor, besides hadn’t Bianca said she didn’t want to cause trouble? What changed in the course of months?
“It is true Nicolo. That is not flattery.”
Nico changed the subject. “His first name is Alexandros, right?”
“Si, Alexandros Luciano Luca.”
“Luciano sounds like Lucy. You should have consulted with me Bianca. I am his father, capisce?”
“I am aware of that Nicolo. Afterall I am his mother!”
Nico stood upright, cocking a brow at her. “Do you have a damn problem because if you do it’s time we get something very clear. Next time you go anywhere with Alexandros, I want to know who he’s with. In fact, I want to know his entire itinerary until he becomes of age and tells me to go fuck myself!”
Bianca met his outburst with sarcasm. “And how will your wife feel about that Nicolo?”
Nico nearly choked on his saliva. “We’re not talking about my wife. This conversation is about Alexandros.”
Bianca frowned. Nico was present when Ari warned her to stay away from her husband. Having a physical altercation with his lawyer wife wasn’t nearly as frightening as her influence. She sat among the mafia wives in their secret little meetings, plotting and sanctioning actions without counsel of spouses. The men were too busy with their power plays to entertain what they considered harmless activity. Murder and accidents are far from innocent. A scorned wife is a very dangerous adversary.
“Do not act like the ass Nicolo. You are married and your wife will not stand by quietly as you impose upon your former mistress’ life, especially since I have promised to not cause trouble.”
“There is a child between us Bianca. Ari is aware that I plan to be an active parent. My son will not grow up with lies.”
Bianca tossed her hair over her shoulder, the action revealed her slender neck and his eyes faltered to her full bosom that were undoubtedly used for daily feedings.
“Nicolo, stop this. I am engaged. I do not want my daughters to learn about us. They will not understand.”
“Cosa?”
“Si, Nicolo. I am due to marry Signore Magaleni tomorrow.”
“Magaleni, the one with more ex-wives and children than in the town of Firenze?”
Bianca crossed her arms. “He is divorced only twice with six children. There is nothing scandalous about divorce.”
Nico didn’t like this rush of a wedding. Alexandros was less than three weeks old. When and how did she have time for courtship when she’d been in Eritrea during the majority of the pregnancy? Frankly, he smelled manipulation afoot.
“When did this love affair that requires marriage occur?”
“I’ve known Signore Magaleni for years. He and I get along well. He makes me laugh and he will be a good husband.”
“Did you screw him?”
“That is none of your business Nicolo.”
“I like Nico better. You can play these games of pretense Bianca, just not with me. Your daughters will recover from the news. Afterall, we are unrelated by blood so stop the nonsense with this unwarranted shame. I fucked you, you fucked back, and a crazy woman fucked us both from the start. Now, why are you really marrying the Divorce King?”
“He has been very kind since I’ve returned to Italy. He visited me at my father’s with several lovely bouquets of flowers. We have spent time becoming reacquainted.”
“And then he says, ‘Bianca my beloved, por favore, may I have your hand in marriage?’ Is that how this fake story goes?” Nico teased with a sinister grin.
Bianca blushed. Nico was far more handsome than Magaleni. She hated the screams of yearning for his touch upon her naked skin, which would not be the case with her future husband. “Do not make fun.”
“It’s funny as hell that you’d think I’d buy this nonsense.”
Bianca marched out of the nursery when Nico laughed in her face. She turned around at the sound of his mirth on her heels. “Go home. You have seen Alexandros, stated a list of demands, what more do you want?”
Nico seized her arm and jerked her to a halt. “I want the truth. What has Magaleni promised…what…cosa?”
“Protection and love.”
“Protection? He couldn’t protect an ant. Try again.”
“I do not want to be alone and neither does he. It is an arrangement for companionship. A husband is protection from unwanted suitors –and to ensure Alexandros and I are not the butt of rumors.”
Nico laughed. “You care about gossip?”
“Nicolo –”
“Nico, remember? Careful, your duplicity is showing.”
“Nicolo, nobody must know Alexandros is your son. You will not be with us night and day. I do not want any harm to come to him.”
He laughed. “You expect me to deny my son?”
“I expect you to listen to reason.”
“I cannot find reason to agree to this lie. I never want my son to believe I did not love him.”
“You are selfish.”
He laughed out venom. “Go to hell!”
The masculine laugh set Bianca’s nerves on end. “You are horrible!”
Nico considered forbidding her to marry, afterall he had the authority. Magaleni wasn’t the right fit for Bianca or the family. He examined her face. “Are you in love Bianca?”
“Si, very much.”
“Very much, that I take it means extremely passionate for this Magaleni fool, eh? But you just said it was an arrangement for companionship and then protection, get the lies right bella.” Nico’s hands went to the curves of her hips. His charm wasn’t a smile but an aura of confidence. He brought her stiff body close to connect with his hardness and she became languid. He slowly lowered his mouth to hers, a feather of a kiss initially until her lips parted and she plunged forward to devour his mouth like a starved woman suckling a mango. He did not have to do much to expose untruths. Her body gave him the answers. Nico was well aware of her true feelings for him. In fact, he had put an end to the affair prior to the demise of his mother for that reason.
Bianca’s arms circled his neck. She whimpered and pled that he not tempt her into disgrace. She requested his blessing in the upcoming nuptial. Her cries in passion were that he release her to another or keep her for his pleasure. “Por favore Nico –love me bello. Make love to me whenever you choose and I will accept that I am your mistress or remain silent about my choice of companion. You said I deserve a life, let me have this if I cannot have you. Protect me or set me free of this desire.” She moaned when he detached.
Soul less eyes swept over her as she disrobed. Her pale skin was a milky texture that his lips had once guzzled into intoxication. Her lips parted to show the pearls that swirled on his tongue. Bianca was a model woman, a centerfold of curvaceous splendor that
could make men weak and she stood there aware of her power. Bianca the beautiful temptress wanted to play games.
The Nico peering upon a seductress’s silhouette saw Ari and hardened.
“You want me, admit it Nico. You wanted me that day I lay my husband to rest and you want me now.”
She stepped forward, sliding her hands around his waist, kissing his throat, making him feel what should be dead. “I wanted you as well Nico…you have your father's lips, his spirit, ummm…to feel you inside of me gave me my husband and life, Bello Nico. Is it wrong to want to stay alive by your kisses on my flesh?”
Her hands worked loose his belt, to slide inside his slacks and caress the length of his desire. “I do not want to come between you and your moglie,” she said against his throat. “It is only that I am weak to fight against the invasion that has taken over my blood.” Bianca’s lovely arched brow was a seductive challenge. The edge of her mouth was a taunt of her womanly strength. “Men such as you are hard and untamable. I am honored as mistress to Protezione Nico, to be less is dishonor. I must marry or you must claim me in your bed as Mafioso with many rights.”
Intoxicating lips feathered across his, succulent kisses, arduous and wet had threatened his resolve. However, lips divine and as sweet as wine belonged to a lover wife named Ari.
Nico jerked Bianca’s hand away in an explosion of anger and shoved the temptress to the wall and it vibrated. His knuckles pressed down on her swan of a neck until she gurgled, turning red. Her pale skin finally had color. Her eyes were on his dark pupils and his nostrils flared that she dare toy with his body yet claim to want his blessing for a marital deception. “You believe you know who I am bella?” Nico considered snapping her neck for courting death. “I should kill you for your arrogance. I fucked you to save your life, but now I regret that decision and remorse is a rarity for me!”
She pushed toward him, unafraid, rotating her pelvis to his leg, telling him death was fitting exchange to feel him within and he frowned at his own folly.
Nico’s hand dropped from her throat and Bianca breathed. “Nico I cannot deny my love for you is strong.” She gasped.