by B. B. Hamel
I couldn’t, didn’t want to.
I needed him more than I realized.
I moaned as he palmed my breasts, took off my bra, licked my hard, pink nipples. I felt the pool table behind me, and he lifted me up, sitting me down on top. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him as he teased my chest.
His hands felt incredible as he moved them down between my legs. He kissed my neck, my shoulders, my nipples.
“This is why you stay,” he whispered. “This, right here. This pleasure, this taste. You pretend like you’re here for the story, but I think you want to live the story, Mona. I think you want to be a part of the story.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I moaned as he unbuttoned my jeans and tugged them off. I watched him peel them down my body and toss them onto the floor before I hopped off the pool table and grabbed at his shirt.
I took it off, kissed his chest, fumbled at his belt.
“You want to be the story,” he said. “You can’t help yourself. I see it in you, little Mona, delicious, hungry Mona.”
I took his belt off, dropped to my knees, and pulled down his jeans. He wrapped his fingers through my hair as I pulled off his boxer briefs, taking his thick, hard cock in my hand, slowly stroking up him up and down, my eyes wide at his long, thick shaft.
He pressed my mouth down over his tip then slid himself into my throat. I sucked him fast, moaning as I did it, lost in the moment. I knew I crossed a line, I knew I was going so much further than I ever imagined I would, but none of that mattered anymore.
There was only him, only Vince, only his body, his taste, his moans.
I sucked him faster, bobbing up and down, breasts shaking, hand gliding along his shaft. I felt gorgeous, I felt filthy, and I loved it. I wanted more, wanted every inch, and his moans, his groans, his hand hard in my hair kept me going, my body ringing with need, my wet spot dripping between my legs.
I slipped a hand down and began to roll my fingers along my clit.
He let out a growl of pleasure as I licked him, sucked his tip, and teased myself. I moaned as I took him into my mouth and he pushed me down deeper. I gagged, pulled back, looked up into his eyes as I stroked him.
I felt like a different person. As he leaned down and kissed me, I felt like he gave me permission to change.
He pulled me to my feet. I held his cock in both hands, stroking up him up and down. He kissed me, tongue in my mouth, taste on my lips, and I felt my breasts shake with every heavy breath, every hard stroke. He pushed me back to the pool table, licked a nipple, palmed my ass, then lifted me up onto the table.
I leaned back on my hands as he spread my legs wide and pressed the tip of his shaft against my soaking pussy.
He leaned forward and grabbed my hair hard again. It hurt and I let out a little moan, rolling my shoulders as he kissed my neck, my chest. He palmed a breast with his other hand and stared into my eyes.
“Tell me you want me to fuck you,” he said.
“I want it,” I whispered.
“Say the words,” he said. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
“I want you to fuck me,” I said.
He clenched his jaw and I felt his tip spread me open. I was soaking wet, dripping down along his shaft, down onto the immaculate, expensive pool table. He slid himself inside of me and I threw my head back, or at least I tried. He held me with his fist, his fingers keeping my head forward, my eyes locked on his.
“That’s right,” he said. “Your tight little pussy’s all mine now, you know that?” He filled me the brim, brought himself deep between my legs. I moaned in bliss, breasts shaking, legs trembling as I wrapped them around his hips.
He began to grind himself against me, kissed my lips, bit my shoulder, fucked me slow. I took him deep and rough, grabbing his back, digging my fingers into his muscles. Each sharp thrust sent a spray of emotion through my body. I gasped, again and again, whispered his name like a secret I could only tell myself, moaned and began to writhe my hips.
He took me like that on his father’s expensive pool table. But none of it mattered, not the setting, nothing in the world.
I knew that, just outside, there were men who wanted us dead. There were men who would be glad to put a bullet through Vince’s eyes, and be glad to kill me right next to him.
But here in this room, with my Vince, his cock between my legs, his body against mine, none of it mattered.
Sweat began to trickle down my spine as I moved my hips faster.
He took me, thrust into me, rough and deep and long. I gasped and whispered in his ear.
“I want all of you,” I groaned. “I want everything. Do you know what I mean?”
“I know what you mean,” he said. “But I don’t think you can handle me.”
“Please,” I begged. “I want it, Vince. I’m tired of pretending like I don’t.”
He cupped my chin with one hand and stared into my eyes.
“Don’t ask for something you’ll regret,” he said.
“I won’t,” I moaned.
He fucked me faster then, biting my lower lip. I writhed back against him, rolling my hips, pushing my clit against him. His growls and groans rang in my ears, sent shivers of pleasure and joy down my spine, made me moan in pure ecstasy.
I could feel it building between my legs. He kept going, faster, faster, his cock taking my slick pussy, and we moved together in that perfect rhythm, not too fast but not too slow, his long, deep thrusts making moans slip from my lips, my eyes began to roll back, my muscles began to tighten, and I knew I was close. I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t hold it back.
There was no stopping him, not when he had me.
He growled, animalistic, guttural, as he thrust at just the right pace, grinding hard against me. I dug my fingers deep into the muscles of his back and bit down on my own tongue. My eyes rolled back, my head drooped, and I felt the orgasm flit up along my spine and rock through my brain.
I moaned his name as I came. I moaned it over and over, like I couldn’t stop, like the word was the only thing that kept me coming. He thrust into me all through it, and I felt my body flush, turn into nothing but pleasure and heat. His muscles bulged as he supported my weight and made me orgasm all along his thick, beautiful cock.
And slowly I came down, a stupid smile on my face, my eyes fluttering again as the world came into focus.
I saw him, the smirk on his lips, the sweat on his brow.
I kissed him, pressed my breasts against his chest, and held him.
He held me there. We didn’t speak as I breathed hard, brain tingling, body numb.
“Good girl,” he whispered. “Very good girl.”
I grinned and buried my face in his shoulder. “Oh my god,” I said.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he purred in my ear and pulled me down off the table. My legs felt wobbly and he held me up with a laugh.
“Sorry,” I said. “I’m just a little… oh, fuck.”
He turned me around, bent me over. He spanked my ass hard and grabbed my hair. “You’re just a little what?” he said.
“Nothing,” I moaned as he slid his cock inside me again.
I let him have me. There’s no other way to say it. I let him have his way, fuck me from behind, thrust his massive cock deep inside my pussy. Pleasure bloomed through me again as he grunted and growled and fucked me rough. He was merciless, taking his pleasure on my body. He spanked me, bit me, teased my breasts. He pulled my hair and slammed his massive cock between my legs.
And all the while, I was his.
I was his to use how he wanted. I was his to give him pleasure. My body, my moans, my lips, my tongue, my dripping wet pussy, my hard nipples. Every inch of my skin, it was all for him to use as he wanted. I was willing, god, I was so willing.
And he took every inch, took what he needed, what he wanted.
He fucked me mercilessly until his hands stiffened on my hips. I felt him thrust deep, groaning, as he came between my le
gs. Pleasure bloomed all through me, hot and flushed, a small orgasm, nothing like the one earlier, but still good, still pleasure. I sighed with satisfaction as he filled me then slipped out and leaned up against the pool table, breathing hard.
I leaned up against him and let him wrap his arms around me, holding me tight against his chest.
“Shit,” he said.
“You think so?”
He laughed, thoughtless and concise. “I don’t know where you learned to fuck like that, but goddamn, girl.”
I felt myself blush. “I didn’t learn to fuck anywhere,” I said. “And don’t be crude.”
He chuckled again and kissed my forehead. “All right,” he said. “I’ll do my best.”
I chewed on my lip as I tried not to smile. I didn’t want him to see how he made me feel, didn’t want him to know.
But I’m pretty sure he felt it already.
“Come on,” I said after a little while. “We should get dressed and go. You have work to do.”
“True,” he said. “Although I like you just like this.”
I felt the smile break free finally as I pulled myself away and collected my clothes. “If you like it so much, you can have fun undressing me again later.”
“You think there’ll be a later?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
I hesitated. “I don’t know,” I said.
He walked over, grabbed my ass, and pulled me against him.
“Of course there will be,” he said. “I’m half hard already just thinking about it.”
I pushed him away, grinning like a moron, and turned my back to him to get dressed. I felt him staring at me and looked over my shoulder.
He wasn’t kidding. He really was half hard.
“Get yourself under control,” I said.
“Yeah, yeah.” He took a deep breath and leaned his head back. “Just haven’t felt like that in a while.”
“Yeah,” I said, pulling on my panties. “Same.”
He gave me a look then shook his head and got dressed. When we had our clothes on, I straightened myself, fixed my hair, and held my hands out.
“How’s this?” I asked.
“You look like you just had the best sex of your life,” he said.
I dropped my hands. “Dick.”
“Come on,” he said, putting an arm over my shoulder and pulling me against him. “Let’s go start a war.”
I stared up at him, chewed on my cheek, and let him steer me out of that ostentatious room, and back into the hallway.
19
Vince
We stayed in my house for two days after that. Steven had his guys keep an eye on my place, which I said wasn’t necessary, but he did it anyway. I made some calls and set a few things in motion, but for the most part I watched old movies and tried to keep Mona entertained.
It wasn’t hard work, not really.
Not when I had her in my bed, sweating, moaning, sucking on my cock.
We fucked for two days, on and off. We watched movies, ate whatever I had in the house, then fucked again. I got to know the curves of her body, the sound of her moans, the way her pussy got slick when I licked her earlobe. I figured out what she liked, what she didn’t like, and I mercilessly exploited her body for my own pleasure.
And through it all, I had her moaning my name. I had her forgetting about the outside world.
I had her all to myself.
Two days of it, and on the morning of the third, I woke up with Mona still asleep by my side. She was naked except for a pair of panties. The sheets were pulled up around her chin and she looked like she was wrapped in a cocoon. I smiled a little, rubbed her round ass, then got out of bed. She stirred, grunted a little, but didn’t get up.
I brushed my teeth and showered. When I was done and drying off, I noticed my phone screen light up. I picked it up and found a text from my second-in-command, the guy I’d left in charge of my crew back in New York. He was a loyal soldier named Ambrose, someone I brought up with me back in the day.
Ambrose: Just got in. Forgot how small Philly was.
Me: Get used to it. We might be here a while.
Ambrose: Can’t say I’m excited about it.
Me: Home sweet home.
Ambrose: When should we meet up? Diego’s coming into the city later, I know he’s eager to talk.
Me: Swing by the house then we’ll go meet with Diego later.
Ambrose: All right then, see you soon, boss.
I put on a fresh suit, since I’d be doing some business today, and slipped my phone into my jacket pocket. I looked at Mona still asleep on the bed and considered waking her up, but decided against it. I headed downstairs, made coffee, started on some eggs and bacon, when there was a knock at the door.
I found Ambrose standing on the stoop wearing a denim shirt and dark jeans. He gave me a huge grin like he couldn’t believe I was actually there. He had dark brown eyes, dark hair cut short on the sides and pushed back up top in a stylish wave. He was about my height, worked out religiously, and always had his Glock tucked into the waistband of his jeans.
“Welcome back,” I said.
“Missed this place, man,” he said. “How long’s it been?”
“Years.” I stepped aside and gestured. “Come on in.”
Ambrose walked in and looked around. He gave a sharp laugh and pointed at the couch.
“You still got that thing?” he asked. “Didn’t we trash pick that, man?”
“God, no,” I said. “I got rid of that couch a long time ago.”
“Shit, looks similar.”
I tapped at the couch with my foot. “I liked the look of it, so I got a similar one.” I led him into the kitchen, got him some coffee, turned the bacon, and sat down at the table.
“All right,” Ambrose said, drinking the coffee and ignoring his eggs.
“So what’s the deal?” I asked. “You talked with Diego about the plan?”
“Yeah, man,” he said. “I talked to him.”
“And what did he say?”
Ambrose shook his head and blew on the coffee. “He said he was interested, but you know Diego. Wouldn’t go into any detail.”
“Annoying,” I said and crossed my arms. “But he’s coming down. That’s a real start.”
“I’m not sure Diego’s going to go for this,” Ambrose said. “I mean, it would cause some real shit with the Jalisco.”
“The Jalisco can go fuck themselves,” I said. “We’ll provide all the firepower Diego needs.”
Ambrose raised up his hands. “No argument from me, boss,” he said. “But I’m just making an observation here. Diego’s cartel is strong, but the Jalisco are ruthless and consolidating power all over Mexico. I’m not sure they can stand strong.”
“This isn’t Mexico,” I said. “The Jalisco don’t run these streets.”
He gestured assent and sipped his coffee. There was a sound on the stairs and we both looked over as Mona stepped down wearing a tiny pair of shorts, barely big enough to cover her big, beautiful ass, and a low-cut tight tank top that might’ve been two sizes too small. She frowned at Ambrose, blinked a couple times, then crossed her arms over her chest.
“Oh, hey,” she said. “I didn’t know you’d, uh, have company.”
Ambrose laughed and gave me a sly look. “This the girl, huh?”
“Yeah, this is her,” I said.
“Pretty,” he said. “Really pretty. Where the fuck did you find her?”
“She fell into my lap,” I said.
“I’m standing right here,” Mona said. “You know I can hear you, right?”
“Smart girl, too,” I said. “You should see her when she takes off her—”
“I swear to God, Vince, if you finish that sentence I’ll cut off your dick.”
Ambrose threw back his head and laughed then grinned huge at me. “I like her,” he said.
“Me too,” I said.
She glared at us then shook her head. “What’s going on?” she asked.
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“Mona, this is Ambrose,” I said. “He’s my top lieutenant from New York.”
“Oh,” she said. “Hi, uh, nice to meet you.”
“You too,” he said.
“Mona’s been staying with me,” I said to him. “She’ll be coming to the meeting.”
He turned his lips down at that and gave me a look. “You sure about that? You know how Diego can be around new people.”
“He’ll like her,” I said. “She’ll wear something slutty.”
“Hey,” Mona said. “Asshole.”
“It’ll help though,” Ambrose said, stroking his chin. He looked back at her. “No offense, but if you wore something slutty, I’m sure Diego would be too busy looking at your tits to care about anything else.”
“You can’t just say ‘no offense,’ then say whatever you want,” Mona said.
I snorted and stood up. “Seriously though,” I said. “She’s coming, so get used to the idea.”
“Fine,” Ambrose said. “I should call him up. Where do we want to meet?”
“Somewhere public,” I said. “There’s a park not too far from here. Clark Park. Tell him to meet us there.”
I caught Mona stiffen at the name of the park out of the corner of my eye, but ignored her.
“Yeah okay,” Ambrose said and pushed himself from the table. He walked past me and into the kitchen, already dialing a number on his burner phone.
I got up and walked over to Mona. She gave me an annoyed look and didn’t uncross her arms.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“My New York connection is here,” I said. “Ambrose is brokering the meeting.”
“Right,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I guess we couldn’t just stay inside forever.”
“I wish we could,” I said and reached out to uncross her arms. She let me with a little reluctance. “But unfortunately, the real world beckons.”
She looked away, down at the floor. “I don’t want the real world,” she said. “In the real world, I’m a journalist and you’re a mobster.”