by Frankie Love
And she stands back.
Breathing hard. Wiping her mouth with her sleeve.
Her eyes blaze. “See? Nothing”
Chapter Eight
Mia
The look on his face could melt me. But I can’t tear my eyes away from his.
I say it again, even though my nipples sting hard and the pulse thumps in my pussy.
“Nothing. No. Thing.” My voice catches.
He smirks.
I slam into him like a magnet.
I kiss him again. Hard. Feel the molten surge fire up inside me. Grip his hair. Run my hands over the hard roll of his pecs. The stiff ridges of his abs.
While his tongue invades me, I want the taste of his sweat. His heat. His cock.
I crook my leg around his ass. Drag him as much into me as I can.
His hands fly all over my body. Raking through my hair. Pulling my head to him. Clamping my ass to drag my hips against his. His pelvis rocks. That rod. I slide my palms down to find it.
I need it. My pussy is tipping toward him. I need him.
I break back, gasping. “What the fuck am I doing?”
His voice is low, like a rusty blade. “Looks like you’re firing up a fuck.”
“I can’t. What am I doing, giving it up for you?” I’m still holding his cock. He’s still got his smirk. I want to eat them both. I want to eat all of him.
“You’re a virgin!” How can he read me like that? Fucker! I hate him.
“Mia Moretti. Mafia princess and sex witch Mia is a fucking virgin.” His laugh drives me insane. I have go make him stop.
My voice is nowhere near calm. “Why is that so surprising?”
I start to walk a circle around him.
“Aside from the fact that you look like a ten thousand dollar whore, you mean? Or should I say ‘escort,’ and spare your blushes.”
He walks around me. We’re making some kind of a figure of eight. His nostrils flare and his pupils are huge.
I say, “I’m not blushing.” I totally am. “Call me a whore if you want. I don’t care.” It’s not true. I do. But in a way that I don’t understand. Then, “Would you pay ten thousand dollars to fuck me?”
I’m moving nearer the wall.
“Well, it’s academic.” He leers. Damn him.
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to fuck you for free.”
I want to argue with that. Who’s going to fuck who. But I leave it. For now. “But would you?”
“Honestly?”
“Yeah. Ten k for a fuck.” My back leans against the cement wall. “Would you pay that?”
“The truth? For a fuck? No chance.” And he laughs. “But for you? I’d pay double that and more.” He smirks. “If I wasn’t already getting it for free.”
“You must be about the most infuriating man on the whole damned planet, you know that?”
“Why thank you. That must be the nicest thing you ever said to me.”
He’s on me.
His hands on my breasts. Squeezing. Spilling thrills and tingles out, all over me. His finger tracing my mound. My ass. My hood. My channel. Oh, god.
Without me thinking, my fingers unbuckled his belt. They’re opening the rivet buttons on his black jeans. All on their own. My breath rasps hot.
“Oh, god, Mia,” he drawls, lewd. Filthy. The hot rod of flesh pulses as my fingers curl around it. “I’ve hunted you, Mia, and I loved the hunt. And now you’ve caught me.“
God damn. He’s huge. Do people really do this? It doesn’t seem possible. I grip it. It feels like dark magic.
“It wasn’t your cunt I was hunting, Mia,” his hand makes me tremble and quiver as he rubs on my channel, “but now you’ve got my cock in your hands,” I have and I can’t believe it. “Now I’m going to have to drill you.”
He opens my pants. Slides his hand inside, over my buzzing, swollen wetness for a feel. As he peels my leather pants off, he says, “Maybe it’s a shame your first time is up against a cement wall in a garage in the middle of nowhere.”
I rub the length of his cock. It’s too long to get all of it in me. And it’s too thick. I moan as he finds my clit. Oh, damn, he knows how to work that.
He gets my speed. Moves around the outside, tugging and teasing.
But hard. Fast.
Like I do. Sometimes.
I manage to say, “And a shame it’s with a brutal asshole whose name I don’t…” Fuck!
An idea takes hold in my mind.
“Why are you so determined to make me hate you?”
“You’ve got enough talent for hating me,” his finger is inside. Against my will, my walls are clinging around it. Treacherous juices spill into the palm of his hand. “You hate me perfectly well without needing my help.”
“But you still are. You’re working at it. You want me to hate you.”
His fingers find their way up. I’m gripping his cock and collapsing, wide-eyed and breathless on his shoulder.
Breathing hot on my neck, his voice scrapes low in my ear, “We both want the same thing then.”
There’s an answer. It’s just out of reach. I know it and I need it. But I’m afraid of it. And I need to feel his cock first. I need it where his fingers are. If I can stand it. If it doesn’t tear me apart.
“I hate you so much right now.” I’m trying to sing it. To shout it. But it smokes out low. Hoarse, in a whisper.
It even turns me on. Especially as his teeth graze my neck.
He opens my shirt.
“You are beautiful, Mia.”
“Beautiful like a ten-thousand dollar whore?”
“No, Mia.” He lifts me by my ass. Holds me so my lips have him to my opening. “Beautiful like you. Beautiful like nobody else.”
My wings flutter on him. All my body wants him. Adores him.
Only in my lonely mind, trapped and isolated up here like fucking Rapunzel, only my head knows who he is. What he is. Why I shouldn’t let him do this to me.
He feels so good. He makes me want to die in his arms.
I grab his ass. Pull. Hard.
The pain as he spears me is sharp. Devastating. And divine. Like I lived my whole life for this.
I don’t want to be feeling any of this. And I want it to go on forever. Nobody told me it would feel like this. It’s like I’m turning inside out. Over and over.
He splits me wide. Slow and sure, he knifes into me, stretching me impossibly. Making my eyes pop. My back arches and I claw him. My neck stretches. I slam my hips against him, riding the burn on that thick pole.
“More. Give me more, you fucker.”
I yell as he does it. Hammering into me. Thick and hard. Banging me against the wall. His body is savage. His eyes devour me as his cock impales my weeping wings.
Sinking my teeth into the side of his neck, nibbling down under his collar, onto his shoulder
My nails scrape down his back. I lean on his shoulders to lever my ass up. Spread wider.
Pulling my thighs as wide as I can, I cross my ankles behind his back. The stretch pulls him in deeper. Higher. He’s reaching up inside me, higher than anyone, or anything, has ever been.
I bite on his neck and moan into his flesh, “Are you a fucking drug or something?” It’s like I’m really losing it here. Like I’m delirious. “What are you doing to me?”
“Just giving you the fucking that you’ve been begging for.”
My walls pull and flutter on him. Sensations swell and rise inside me like a dam, shaking, ready to burst.
I push my hands into his shirt. My face is wet. I can’t coordinate to open the buttons. Clutching at his hot, velvet flesh, my nails dig and claw. He sparks up, like my scratching woke him up.
He takes hold of my chin. Presses me back. Takes a filthy wet kiss while he plunges his shaft deep inside me.
Leaning me back, he opens my shirt. It’s scary how he’s so in control. Especially while I’m so not. It gives me an evil trickle of thrill. And I hate him for that.<
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He unclasps the front of my bra and grabs my tit. He’s plowing harder and gripping my ass in the other hand. It feels like a small donut in his palm.
I manage to say, “Remind me to tell you all the reasons why I hate you.”
“I won’t live long enough to hear the whole list.” His mouth fastens on my tit and the burst of sensation sets me shaking and shuddering and clenching and tips me over the edge.
Chapter Nine
Finn
Her fists beat on my shoulders and my back, and her slippery pussy grips and sucks on the base of my cock. I’m up, balls deep into her wetness. If her pussy tightens and flexes like that, I won’t be able to hold back much longer.
Reluctant, I pull my lips from her tit. With my cock still deep inside her, I carry her to the workbench.
With one hand, I sweep the tools and parts off the bench.
I lay her along the bench, about as gently as I can. Which is not gently at all. Spread out on the worktop, she’s too low and I have to crouch to stay in.
But I’m literally shocked. With her shirt open and her hair flowing, nothing else on but the flimsy panties, shoved to one side, she is so fucking beautiful. I stroke her hips and look down her fine curves.
“Mia,” It slips out. I pummel her hard a couple of times and lean down to take a kiss. Because I can. I love it.
But if I don’t concentrate, I’m going to blow my stack. And there’s now way that’s going to happen. Whatever else, I’m going to fuck her so deep and make her come so hard, she won’t be able to walk or move for a week without remembering.
I roll up my jacket and fold it as a cushion for her ass. While I hold her hips and fuck her, long and deep, I look in her eyes. Connecting with her, I feel a flame way down in my core. I could fall in love. This is how it could happen. And it could be her. She could be it.
‘The one.’ I never thought there was any such thing. But now I can see, I can feel how it’s possible.
As I raise her hips, her arms fly up over her head. I spear in. Higher. Deeper. “God, yes,” she moans. Her hips buck.
I catch sight of her shining wet pussy lips, swollen tight around the fat shaft of my cock. However badly I want to, if I watch her there, I won’t be able to hold back.
I lift her thighs and spread them, and she’s still as tight as a drum around me. She shudders and moans as I ream her, long, slow, and hard. I scrape high inside her, up toward the front. At her most sensitive trigger. Deep between her folds.
“God, random mob guy. You’re really going to kill me.” I chuckle, low and hard at that.
Then she looks up, and her eyes blaze. Her thighs grip tight around my hips and her neck reddens. She bucks her hips, moving with a liquid flow. But faster. Harder.
“Fuck me. Fuck me, random mob guy. Fill me. Give it to me.”
There’s no holding back now. I watch shamelessly as her pussy lips squeeze and suck on my fat pole. Her moans and gasping sighs spur me on. The softness of her ass in my hands makes me tighten and harden. My abs and my thighs tense. All my muscles buzz and zing.
She writhes and shouts, clawing and gasping.
Her ass rocks. She moans. Her back arcs.
I grip her ass tight. A glow inside me spreads out and my thighs clench. A roar tears out of my The pulsating beat from my balls blasts up the length of my cock.
I hammer and strain. I lose control and let go a fountain of cum in long, thick bursts.
She clambers up, leaning up to me, still rocking on my cock, reaching for my face, pleading, quizzical with her eyes, open-mouthed. Needing. We kiss. Wet. Soft. Tender.
This moment is golden.
All the dark echoes, all the reasons I shouldn’t have let this happen, are waiting, just out of sight. But here, now, I’m feeling more content and at peace than I ever did.
Of course it doesn’t last. Holding her in my arms right now seems like the most wrong thing I can possibly do.
I ignore the feelings, but they stay with me. They don’t go away.
Chapter Ten
Finn
“What do you think?” Her voice is drowsy. “Would you have got your money’s worth?”
“For ten K?”
“You said you go to twenty.”
“Well, you probably were worth the ten.”
She pinches me. Hard. I go on, “Most of it, anyway.”
I hold her close. “So, I suppose that didn’t mean anything to you, either.”
“Not a thing. Only now, I really do hate you.” She jabs me and pokes me.
“Well, if you hate me so much, I won’t fuck you again.”
“That’s okay, random mob guy,” she rubs her head against me. “I’ll fuck you.”
Already I want that, so much. But once was one time too many.
I change the subject. “You said you were hungry?”
She leans her head against my chest. “Are you offering to order takeout, or does my random mob guy actually cook?” Feeling her lean against me makes me comfortable. I’m warm and contented. I shouldn’t be giving in to any of this. But I never really felt like this with a woman before.
“I feel objectified when you say that.”
“Okay.” She squeezes. And she murmurs into my chest, “That’s good.”
If I didn’t know better, I would say there’s a tender trace of real affection in her embrace. Could it be that my mafia princess sex witch has a soft side?
“And, yes,” I tell her. “I’m a real modern guy. I cook. I can make you perfect, weightless omelettes, or if you’re really hungry, I can sear you a juicy steak with fries and a fresh, crisp salad.”
“Mm. I’ll have the steak. Are you going to make me wait out here and bring it out to me like a convict?”
I say, “My worry, letting you in the house is, you could bust out and run away.”
“From what I saw on the way here, I would have to literally run, and a pretty long way. Most of the way back to Main Street Station, before I found a cab. Or a cop. Or even another human being.”
I say, “You could try and stop someone on the road.”
“Is this your first visit to Nevada, mob guy? If anyone out here stops for a woman on the road, you know you don’t want to get into their car at any price.”
“Afraid you might be kidnapped?”
“You’re a funny guy, you know that?”
I give her a squeeze. It’s hard not to like her. I’m trying, and failing. I ask if she wants to take a shower.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll run away?”
“You won’t get out of the window in the bathroom. It’s sealed up.”
She doesn’t move. “How long do you plan to keep me here?”
“Not long. But I have to get instructions.”
“Oh. My random mob guy takes orders.”
I shrug. I shouldn’t have let her get me into this line of talk.
“Of course,” she says, “I just remembered.”
“What?”
“I forget, because you’ll always be random mob guy to me. But you told me your name!” She bites my side. Hard. “That means you plan to kill me. Right?”
“Oh, no. I was just being polite. I need you to stay alive and healthy. If you fetch up dead, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“You’re kidnapping me to order?”
“It’s not really like that. But, yeah. It’s a job, I guess.”
“How much?”
“No, I said. It’s not like that.”
“I want to know how much it’s worth. How much I’m worth. I’m hoping more than ten grand.”
“I’m doing it as a favor.”
She sits up and looks up into my face. “Like plant sitting, or helping someone paint a room? Or taking in the deliveries when they’re away?”
Then her face brightens. “Hey, I’ve got money. How about I pay you to kidnap my father and my idiot brother?”
“After I give you back to them? Sure.”
“No.” She bi
tes me even harder. “What would be the point of that? No, now. Instead of you giving me back to them.”
I tell her, “You’re looking at this all wrong. You want to hire a kidnapper who would sell out his client? You need to think things through better.”
Her eyes narrow. “Why are you so determined to make me hate you?”
“Because I’m having no luck making me hate you.”
“Do you need to hate me?”
“It will be hard to do my job if I don’t.”
“If you were going to do it, you would have done it by now.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“I’d fucking seriously hope not.”
“What? What do you think I’m going to do to you?”
“I told you. Anyway, it’s obvious. You’ve been hired to kill me. I’m just waiting for you to bundle me into the trunk of the anonymous car outside, drive me out to the desert, and unload a few clips of ammunition into me.”
“You’re really crazy, you know that?” I pull her close. “I couldn’t do that to you.”
“I assumed that was what was taking you so long.”
“No, I’m waiting to hear.” I shouldn’t tell her. But I do. “I have to take you to your father, or I’ll hand you to Liam O’Malley, and he’s going to take you to your father. There’s some politics or something.”
She slumps. “My father wants to marry me.”
“God, that’s kind of sick. I don’t think I can go along with that.”
“I don’t mean he wants to be married to me.” She takes another bite. “Idiot. He wants to marry me to one of his henchmen. The worst. A sadistic creep called Drago.”
Chapter Eleven
Mia
The house is a furnished rental, as anonymous and style-free on the inside as all the identical white bungalows around here are on the outside.
I don’t know if I believe him, that he’s not planning to kill me. Even if he’s not planning it, he might do it anyway. I can’t trust a thing that any of these mob guys say.