Break For Him: A Possessive Mafia Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  “So how’s this work? We do some gun safety first?”

  I snorted. “Probably should.”

  “But I take it you’re too gangster for that.”

  I grunted and took my Glock from my waistband. It was a 9mm semiautomatic with a custom grip. I kept it in perfect working condition because I knew I needed to ready at a moment’s notice. She stared at the gun as it sat there in front of her on the metal shelf.

  “Pick it up.”

  She hesitated. “Is it loaded?”

  “Assume any gun you see is loaded.”

  She nodded and hefted it into her hand. The grip was a little too big for her, but not too bad. She immediately put her finger on the trigger. I stepped in behind her, pressing my body close to hers, and helped adjust her stand, her grips, and positioned her finger on the side of the trigger guard.

  “This feels awkward,” she said, moving her feet.

  “Trust me. Stand like this. You need a solid base so that the recoil doesn’t fuck your aim up too bad.”

  “I don’t see you take a solid base. Heck, nobody does.”

  “We do, you just don’t notice because you’re too busy freaking out. At least, the guys that survive do.”

  She snorted but let me adjust her to my liking, which was fun for me. I got a little liberal with my hands as I moved her legs, her thighs, and at one point gripped her ass, just for my own pleasure. She glared at me, but she didn’t complain.

  “When di I get to shoot?”

  “Soon.” I stepped ack and admired her. Nothing sexier than a hot girl with a gun. “Okay, here’s your safety lesson. Assume all guns are loaded at all times. Which means whenever you have a gun in your hand, that gun can kill someone.”

  “Got it.”

  “Never, ever aim your gun at another human being unless you intend on killing them. Do you understand?”

  “Sure, makes sense.”

  “That means accidentally as well. Always pay attention to where your barrel is aimed. If you’re not sure and you don’t want to think about it at all times, aim it down at the ground , angled forward slightly so you don’t shoot your foot off.”

  “Okay, fine.”

  “The majority of guns don’t have safeties, unlike the movies, so that’s not a thing. Triggers are harder to pull than you realize. Most guns won’t go off if you stick them in your pocket. You need a fair amount of force to get it going.”

  “Why do movies and TVs always have safeties on and stuff then?”

  “I don’t know. It’s a cliché I guess.” I stepped up behind her again and raised her arms up. “Sight down it like this. Keep your target in focus and let that small notch line up with these two notches. When they’re aligned, take a deep breath, and as you exhale, squeeze.”

  “And it’ll shoot?”

  “No, it won’t.” I took the gun from her and removed a magazine from my pocket. “First, you have to load it.”

  I showed her how, showed her how to take the bullets out, how to make sure the barrel was clear. Once we went over that twice and she did it herself, making sure to keep the barrel down range at all times, I let her hold a loaded weapon.

  “It’s surprisingly heavy.”

  “Right? Feels good in the hand.”

  She chewed her lip and got into her stance. “Should I shoot?”

  “After I put the hearing things on, you can go wild. Sound good?”

  She nodded. I put the hearing protecting over her head then put on my own. She glanced back at me and I gestured at the target. It was about twenty feet away, so not too far but not too close. She took a deep breath and squeezed.

  The gun popped and recoiled. She let out a surprised yelp but managed to get it under control. She kept the barrel aimed straight down the range. I squinted and tried to see if she hit the target, but couldn’t make it out.

  She stared at me with a strange expression somewhere before terror and excitement. I gestured again and she started firing. One round after the next, bang, bang, bang. I caught the metal where I could but mostly let it pile up on the floor. I’d sweep it when we were done.

  She squeezed off the full magazine. I gave her another and walked over to a bend to reload the first while she went nuts. She was laughing when I finished and came back over, the second magazine spend, steam rising from the gun’s barrel.

  I took it from her hand, made sure it wasn’t loaded, and took off my hearing protection.

  She removed hers and grinned at me.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think that was amazing.” She laughed and shook her head. “Holy shit. That felt so good.”

  “You liked it, huh?”

  “Seriously, Owain. I’m against guns, I think they’re stupid and dangerous and the only reason you’d ever own one is to kill someone. But holy shit that felt good.”

  I laughed and shrugged. “I mean, I can’t argue with you there. Only reason I’ve ever had to have a gun has been to kill some mother fucker.”

  “I think I kind of get it now a little bit though, you know?”

  “Shooting’s fun. Makes you feel powerful. Nothing like squeezing off a few shots at a target and knowing that no matter what, you could kill any bastard that came at you.”

  “Exactly.” She sucked in a breath and slowly let it out. “God, that felt good.”

  “I’m glad you liked it, because I got a little present for you.” I reached back into my waistband and took out the second gun I had tucked in there.

  It was a smaller Glock, model G19 G4 FS. It was more compact and lighter, but took the same bullets that mine used, which made it a little convenient. She stared at the weapon in my hand and slowly reached out to take it.

  “You got me a gun?”

  “I got you a gun.”

  “That seems a little…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I feel like a real mobster now.”

  “That’s yours.”

  She chewed her lip then met my eye. “You’re really trusting me here, aren’t you?”

  I let out a low laugh and stepped close. She backed up against the plexiglass wall that separated our stall from the one next to ours. She met my gaze and held the gun in her hand—but kept the barrel pointed at the ground, just like I showed her.

  “I’m trusting you, little diamond. You could’ve turned around and shot me at any point just now, but you didn’t.”

  “I didn’t think about that.”

  “I’m a gangster. I live with the possibility that I might die all the time, and I’m okay with that. I want you to start being okay with it too.”

  “I’m not like you. I’m not a part of your world.”

  “But you are, little diamond.” I reached up and touched her face. Her lips parted as I stood there, mere inches separating our bodies. I took the gun from her hand and gently placed it down on the shelf as I put my hands on her hips.

  “I am, aren’t I?” Her voice was soft, almost surprised. I could tell it wasn’t a realization she necessarily wanted to make, and in a lot of ways it probably hurt her to admit it.

  Her brother died because of me. Well, not because of me, but I supplied the drugs that did him in. He would’ve gotten himself killed one way or the other. But I was the bastard that took her in and kept her as my own, all because I manipulated her brother into taking my loans.

  I pulled her into my world, kicking and screaming. But she was in it now, shooting a gun and loving it.

  It was time she accepted that fact.

  “You could’ve walked away any number of times, but you didn’t.”

  “You’d kill my mother.”

  I smirked and tilted my head. “You really believe that shit, do you?”

  She took a deep, sharp breath, and let it out slow.

  “No, I don’t. I know that’s not your style.”

  “Killing old, defenseless women isn’t something I pride myself on.”

  She shut her eyes and took a few more deep breaths. I could only guess at how d
ifficult it was for her to make this transition in her mind. All this time she cold use me as the excuse to kept her around, but now she was going to have to accept that she stayed for another reason.

  Maybe it was the money, or maybe it was something else.

  I leaned down and kissed her. She didn’t react, not at first, but then she pressed herself hard against me and returned my kiss with a shocking hunger. She groaned as I pushed her harder against the Plexiglas wall and bit her lower lip, my other hand coming up to grip her hair. I kissed her neck and let my mouth linger near her ear.

  “You’ve been thinking about this for weeks now, haven’t you?” My other hand moved down and unbuttoned her jeans. She gasped as I kissed her neck again, getting her jeans open, and slipped my hand down the front.

  She was warm and wet. I could feel it through her thin cotton panties. I moved my hand along her pussy and let her soak through her underwear. I kissed her again, bit her lip, felt my heart race as I whispered in her ear again.

  “You’re dripping wet. Was it the gun that turned you on? Or was it me, pushing you up against this wall?”

  “Both,” she moaned.

  “I thought you. You like the power, don’t you? You like having a gun in your hand and a man at your back.” I slipped my fingers down her panties and teased her clit in slow circles. Her body reacted, every inch of her stiffening in response like she could barely control herself. I growled with delight as I teased her faster, sliding down to push my fingers inside, gathering her wet back up around her clit.

  “I like all of it.” She said it like a horrible admission, like she hated herself for speaking the words, but she kept moving as my fingers moved faster on her clit. “God, I like it all.”

  “You like the danger. And you like me. You like when I touch you, kiss you, tease you. You like that I can do for you, the way I can take your body feel. You like when I kill for you.”

  “Yes,” she gasped. “Oh god, yes.”

  I pulled her away from the wall and pushed her up against the shelf, facing down range. I grabbed her ass then pulled her jeans down. She moaned as I knelt behind her and bit her ass then peeled her panties down, revealing her gorgeous, pink pussy. I licked her from behind, my cock hard and throbbing, but I didn’t stop there.

  I stood and kissed her over her shoulder as I unbuckled my belt and got my pants off. She turned and faced me, hands moving down my boxer breifs and gripping my thick cock. I grunted my pleasure as she bit my lip and stroked me. I loved her hands on my long, thick shaft, and I pulled her hair, unable to stop myself.

  I turned her again, pushed her down next to the guns. I spread her ass wide then slid my hard cock deep into her dripping wet pussy.

  She moaned and threw back her head. I grunted in response as her tight, wet, warm pussy enveloped my shaft.

  I took her slow at first. I gripped her hair and kissed her over her shoulder as I let her get used to my sized. I moved my hips, slipping in and out, fucking her nice and deep. I moved my hand up the front of her sweatshirt and teased her breasts, felt her perky nipples, as I slid myself deep inside.

  But I couldn’t take it easy for long. No, she was too beautiful, and every moan, ever thrust drove me wild. I wasn’t the kind of man that could control himself, not with a gorgeous woman that I’d been dreaming of for so long.

  And that was the truth. Ever since I saw her for the first time, I’d been dreaming about tasting her, about taking her how I wanted. I couldn’t push it though, I had to wait until I knew she wanted it as much as I did. So I teased, I pushed, I got her off and let her dream of how much more I could do if only she opened herself to me.

  Now I had her. Every thrust, eveyr moan, every muscle strained at the pleasure of her. She gasped and moved back against me, wiggling her hips, moving her back, her thick ass gorgeous in the bright range lights. I spanked her hard and pulled her hair, fucking her fast, sliding in and out before reaching around to roll my fingers around the hard little bud of her clit. It made her gasp my name when I touched it, like I lit a fire inside of her.

  I knew she couldn’t take much more. I rolled a finger along her clit and fucked her rough, fucked her like I wanted to. I leaned forward and bit her ear then whispered: “Every inch of you drives me wild, my diamond. I’ve been thinking about your gorgeous legs, your tight pussy, your plump lips, and god damn you don’t disappoint. I wasn’t sure you could handle a man like me, but now I know you’re so much more than I thought at first.”

  She gasped and moaned my name then kissed me over her shoulder. “Keep going,” she whispered. “I want to come. Right here. God I want to come so bad. Keep going.”

  I kissed her and held her there. I rubbed her clit faster, fingers sliding along her slick spot, cock moving in and out, matching her rhythm. Our bodies fell into sync, gliding, breathing, moaning, pleasure blooming all over me. My nerves felt raw and gorgeous and I wanted more of her, wanted to taste more of her, wanted to take more. She stiffened, and I felt her pussy clench as the orgasm began to wash through her.

  She came hard and it was glorious. I felt her contract down on my shaft as she moaned my name, the words echoing through the cavernous space. I kept going, fucked her through it, took my pleasure as she came hard, her skin turned flush, sweat dripping down her back. I slapped her ass as she finished and made her gasp again, but I wasn’t finished with her. I fucked her rough and raw from there, taking what I needed, taking my pleasure, until I filled her to the brim. I came deep inside of her and felt her name on my tongue, whispered her name again, Leigh, Leigh, fuck Leigh, and finished as the burst of intense ecstasy slowly relaxed.

  I slipped back and she turned to face me, breathing hard, face red and hair messy. I smirked at her and leaned up against the shelf next to her.

  “They don’t, uh, have security cameras in here, do they?”

  I shrugged. “I’ll have him delete the footage.’

  She turned even redder, which I didn’t think was possible. I couldn’t help but laugh.

  I kissed her and held her tight against me.

  “Relax. There’s no security camera in here. It’s not that sort of place.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “You’re such a dick.”

  “Can’t help myself.”

  I held her there in the firing range. My body vibrated with her, with the need for her, and I wanted to tell her things—tell her how much I wanted her around, how much I didn’t want to let her go.

  How badly I wanted to free her.

  But I felt her tense up after a minute and pull away. She didn’t meet my gaze as she dressed and walked a few feet away like a pacing cat. She finally forced a smile, and I wanted to know what the hell just happened, but I knew I couldn’t ask.

  “So, uh, can I shoot my new gun?”

  I laughed and pulled my jeans back on. “By all means, go ahead.”

  She gave me a strange half smile then walked into the stall, put on her hearing protecting, and spent the next hour firing off round after round while I dutifully reloaded for her.

  But the magic had slipped away. I don’t know how or what happened. Something went through her mind, some thought she kept hidden deep inside of her for moments like this took her away from me. Or maybe it was the sheer fact of our situation, that I was more or less her captor, that I was keeping her in chains for my own self benefit.

  She knows those chains are a fantasy though. She knows I won’t hurt her or her mother if she decides to run, and I never would have.

  But the threat and the situation remained.

  I’d have to fix that. But for now, I watched her shoot, and let myself feel content for the first time in a long time.

  18

  Leigh

  In my post-orgasm haze, when every inch of my body felt good and all I wanted to do was melt into his arms and stay there for eternity, one thought ran through my mind: I love this monster.

  And that scared the hell out of me. It scared me so much that no matter ho
w long I spent shooting after that, it never felt right again. I never got that magic back.

  I tried not to let it show but I didn’t speak to him on our drive back to his place. He dropped me off then went out again, and I spent the afternoon in the house, drifting from room to room, trying to decide what I wanted and who I was and what my future would become.

  I wasn’t a captive. Not really, not anymore. I was sure of that now. He freed me earlier, freed me by admitting that he wouldn’t hurt me or my mother if I ran away. I could go now, go at any point.

  I didn’t have to sell his drugs.

  If I stayed, it meant I wanted to stay. Nothing held me here beyond my own will—and even if I wanted to pretend like he held some kind of sword over my head, some kid of threat, I knew that wasn’t true with certainty now.

  If I stayed, it meant I wanted to stay.

  That scared me so much that around three, I packed a bag and walked out into the comfortable afternoon sunlight.

  It was easy to get home. I got a train and rode it north. I stared out the window and ignored my phone when it rang. I knew it would be Owain but I couldn’t talk to him right now, not when I had so much to figure out.

  I got off the train at Levittown Station which was right behind Bristol Pike. I stood on the platform and stared around at the grass, the trees, the quiet movement of the suburbs, and finally took my phone out of my pocket and called my mother.

  She answered after a few rings. “Leigh?”

  “Hi mom.”

  “Leigh, honey. I’ve been so worried. Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine.” A stab of guilt spiked through her. After Jason, she shouldn’t have disappeared like that. She knew her mom was struggling to accept Jason’s death—she couldn’t handle her daughter disappearing as well.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m actually at the train station right now. I was kid of hoping you could pick me up.”

  A short silence. She could practically see her mother standing in her small Levittown kitchen like a deer, eyes wide, body still.