Sweet Stalker: A Mafia Romance (The Dirty Kings of Vegas Book 1)

by Frankie Love

  I want to take her so she can only ever be mine. Wrap her up and protect her. Keep her safe. Give her babies. A whole damn life. Everything.

  Her jeans are open and I want to unwrap her, but when my hand grazes over her lacy panties, I can’t pull it away. Not before I see how her eyes close when I press. See her tongue slip out and flick across her lips as I make slow circles.

  First, I take in the feel of her soft mound. Her little moans and sighs guide me. Outside her panties, I trace the wet outlines of her swollen lips. I find where her hood hangs. She shakes as I slip a finger softly up and down her slit and feel the heat of her wet lips. I stop just below her clit.

  Her tremors show me what she needs. I want to reach inside. Slip my fingers through her hot, wet, swollen skin. But I’m going to wait and make this last for her. I rub slowly, gently at first, sensing her currents. Finding her rhythms. Sure. Confident.

  I love the sounds of her breath and her tiny vocal noises. But the scent of her is making me mad. Stoking my fire hotter, making me so painfully hard.

  I lift her. Carry her to the big bed. Lay her down, spread her on the silk covers.

  After I slip off her shoes, I pull down her jeans and slide her panties off, and I allow myself just a moment to adore and admire her.

  “Fuck, you are beautiful.”

  Her voice is thick. Drowsy. “So are you, Romeo.”

  I pull up her knees and descend to taste the honey and lick the heat of her lips. My tongue slides around her folds, up into her channel. I trill the tip of my tongue over her clit and she jerks. I lap inside her and she moans as her back arches. When I flatten my tongue and slide it over her and into her, she clutches and claws at the sheets and at the sides of my head.

  I keep her thighs up. Then I suck gently on her, nibbling around with my lips, and she whimpers, loud. I know I’m getting her there.

  I suck rhythmically, flicking her with my tongue. She writhes and flashes her eyes at me.

  She moans, “Fuck! Fuck!” Her voice dips. Her fists bunch and her feet shake. “What the hell are you doing to me?”

  Her pelvis rocks and her juices flow. The taste of her honey makes me want her even more. With her in my mouth, I feel like a king of Vegas. A conqueror. Her stomach rolls and shakes. She grinds her pussy harder into my mouth.

  Now I’ve got her. I know just how to press and move my lips, just where to squeeze with my tongue, exactly when to suck and how hard. I’ve got her. Her neck and chest are red. She breathes in short, hard gasps. Her arms and legs shake and clench. When her ass tightens and she moans, I pull her legs apart and drive my tongue deep inside her.

  I get my reward as she clamps her shuddering thighs tight around my head, and she shouts as she gushes into my mouth.

  After the shaking subsides, she sighs but she doesn’t let go of me for an instant.

  I ask her, “Do you want champagne before the main course?”

  “No! Fuck!” Her eyes roll. “Give it to me.” She spreads her thighs, giving me a fantastic view of her already wrecked and drenched pussy. “Come to me,” her hands beckon. “Please. Now, my Romeo. Fuck me now.”

  Her eyes stretch wide as she stares at my cock. She spreads her legs further, opening them like the wings of a butterfly. I stretch myself across her, reaching up to take my weight on my hands.

  She scrapes her nails over my body. Clutches at my ass, then slips her hands around my hips. She gasps as she takes hold of my cock.

  Her eyes plead. “It’s too big, Romeo. That’s never going to fit.”

  I kiss her. I have never in my life needed so much willpower to hold back. My thighs, my abs and my arms zing with vibration. I keep my voice level.

  “You do it,” I tell her. And I tilt my pelvis to slide my cock back into her hands. A look of panic clouds her face.

  I push my hot shaft against her wet lips to nuzzle at the base of her clit. She’s reassured. But not enough. I pull up straight, so her pussy lips kiss the underside of my cock.

  “Oh, God, Romeo,” she groans, “I want you so much.”

  Chapter Six

  Giulietta

  His cock is so huge and hard in my hands. I pull him up against my folds. His bumps and ridges scrape against my lips, making them ache and my pussy weep even more. It wraps around his cock, from the base up, wetting his balls. I pull him, wedge him tight, then rock my hips and drag him harder against me.

  He looks hard and deep into my eyes. His breath is long and soft but his eyes blaze.

  I frown and bite my lip. “I can’t put it in.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m too afraid.”

  “Are you afraid it will hurt?”

  My eyebrows steeple. I nod. He strokes my face and kisses me.

  His mouth tightens and his jaw flexes. “Do you want to wait?”

  “NO!” I slap his ass. “I want you to do it, Romeo!”

  He blinks and smiles. His hips pull back. His cock slips down. I gasp as the head drops in to engage with my opening. It slips in so perfectly, he could have done this a thousand times. His face is cool. Acting like it’s nothing. Maybe it is. What do I really know about him?

  One thing I know is that I’m humming inside. From the tip of my toes to the top of my head, I’m buzzing like a nuclear reactor that’s about to go critical.

  His head is locked in my entrance. My little pussy pulls and kisses him.

  He says, “Ready?”

  I shake my head. But I take a breath and I tell him, “Do it. Do it hard. Do it now!”

  I think the clerk at reception probably heard me shout.

  “Romeo, Romeo. Oh, my fucking Romeo!”

  He slides in smooth and steady, but the stretch burns like fire. I brace myself against the sheets with my heels.

  I cry out, “Oh!”

  My nails claw into his back and his ass. He shoves in deeper. The stretch burns through my walls and my head thrashes wildly from side to side. I’m shouting, “OH!”

  “Is it hurting?”

  “God, yes!” My nails dig deeper into his flesh. I snarl, “Give me more! Give me all of it!” My teeth clamp onto his shoulder. “Oh, GOD! You’re going to split me in two! It’s tearing me apart!”

  I never hurt so much and I never, ever felt so good.

  His rod drives through me hard, hot, throbbing, and relentless. I can’t stop my thighs from squeezing his hips, and my hips buck to slam my sore pussy all the way along the pole that feels like a solid column of fire.

  We’re not using protection, and I am so glad. I couldn’t bear to lose any tiny bit of the gripping pain or the searing pleasure of having him deep inside me, all the way in. Slapping my pelvis against his, knowing the pain, the danger, the risk, everything.

  If this is what it’s like being in love, I don’t know how anyone survives it. All I know is that I need it.

  Then I feel him swell and pump harder. I go over the edge again, spiraling and imploding, shaking from my ankles to my head.

  He thrusts his impossible length deep inside me and I feel him spout blasts of hot, sticky love juice into my core.

  “Fuck me, FUCK ME!” I’m yelling. “My fucking Romeo!”

  He hugs me tight in his arms and we kiss, still desperate and now exhausted, but softer. Sweeter. I feel happy and fulfilled in a way that’s new.

  His head and mine are curled together, our foreheads resting in the crooks of each other’s necks. His voice is warm and soft in my ear. “You’re beautiful. That was wonderful.”

  “You’re kind of wonderful yourself, Romeo.”

  “Was it okay for you?”

  I’ve hardly gotten my breath back. “Was it okay? I don’t know. You’ll have to ask after we do it a few dozen more times.”

  We grow drowsy, stroking each other, planting little kisses. I see the raw marks on his ass from my fingernails. I should feel bad. I don’t, I’m proud. He’s mine.

  I marked him.

  He may not be mine any longer than the mark
s last, but what the fuck? I’m happy for now.

  We doze. Entwined. I’ve never felt this content.

  What!? What the hell?

  There’s something cold on my skin. Between my legs… “Oh, OH! What are you doing?” He’s squirting me with something. “What’s going on… OH!” He’s licking it off. “Oh my god, OH GOD. Damn!”

  An evil gleam in his baby blues is the first thing I see, peering up from between my thighs. FUCK! Oh, but his lips and his tongue! I grip his head in my hands. Saw my pussy over his mouth. Pull him tighter till I feel the graze of his teeth.

  I squirm and wriggle. I stretch out as his mouth sets off strings of firecrackers inside me. OH! And he knows exactly where I’m SUPER sensitive. I try to turn over but he holds me down, damn him. He is so fucking strong!

  But I’ve outsmarted him. While he’s been concentrating on making me spasm and yelp, OH! There it is ag– OH! Again. Damn.

  But now I’ve got the canister of whipped cream.

  I squirt it in his face.

  He stops. Lifts his head. He’s about to wipe his eyes.

  “Ah-ah!” I tell him. “Play fair. You have to let me lick it off.”

  He hesitates. I spray more cream.

  “All right,” he says, making a meal out of not being able to see as he clambers up my body.

  “Here.” He presents his face. And as he does, I spray his cock. It looks like a massive pole with a scoop of ice cream on the top. Mmm. Nice idea for next time.

  “No fair,” he protests. “I couldn’t see.”

  “I couldn’t see when I was sleeping, and you decorated my pussy to suit your own ends. Now. Bring me your cock for a thorough cleaning.”

  My phone rings. Damn.

  “It will go to voicemail,” I tell him. “Cock. Here. Mouth. Waiting.”

  He felt the ripple of tension in my body at the sound of my phone, though. There’s no use pretending. How does he know me so well? And how have I lived without him so long?

  He sits up. His cock looks pretty appetizing with a dollop of whipped cream, so I slurp it off. Damn. Of the two flavors, the distinctly rich taste of his cock is the one I’d come back for more of. I pop it into my mouth and he lets out a long sigh as I slip my tongue over it and around it.

  We both know what’s coming, though.

  My phone rings again.

  I know who it is, obviously. I can ignore it again, but they’ll only keep calling. And naturally, my phone has a tracker and both my brothers have access to it, as well as my father. Having them call and ruin the night is bad. If they show up, it will be a whole lot worse.

  “Sorry,” I tell him. “I have to take that.” I kiss him before I scramble across the room to fish my phone out of my jeans pocket.

  “Jealous husband?” he jokes.

  “Getting blind drunk with his Special Forces buddies,” I tell him as I head for the bathroom.

  “They’ll never take me alive,” he calls after me, “those damned Capulets.” His heart isn’t in it, though.

  Behind the closed bathroom door, I’m about to call Angelo, the last name on my missed calls list, but a call from Giovanni pops up on the screen before I can even tap it.

  As soon as I pick up, Giovanni says, “Where the fuck are you?”

  “Nice, Giovanni. I hope you’re having a good evening, too. How was the poker?”

  “Just get your slutty ass back here. Now. And don’t let Father know you’ve been out dragging your culo around town.”

  “Giov–”

  “Can it. A big deal is going down. You’ve got an important part to play. Just. Get. Home.”

  Back in the room, he looks at me.

  “You have to go.”

  I nod. I don’t know if I’m proud of myself or disappointed that I’m able to hold back my tears.

  My voice is flat. “We’ll meet again. Here.”

  He says, “Okay, when?”

  “Tomorrow. Or tonight, whichever it is.” I check my phone. Past midnight. “Tonight. Eight-thirty?”

  “A roulette table.”

  I hate that he sounds so low and flat too.

  I hate more the fact that what I’m most afraid of is him asking me questions about who I am.

  I dress and I kiss him.

  But there’s a cool gulf between us. And I’ve never been that good of a swimmer.

  Chapter Seven

  Peter

  Deflated, I stay slumped in the back of a cab all the way to the O’Malley compound. I thought about staying in the room, but without her, it just felt too empty. I don’t know the time and I don’t care.

  The cab drops me inside the gated compound. My brothers, my father and I live in the sprawling house at the center of the property. The house is big enough to be called a palace, but I still feel like we’re crowded on top of each other. Mostly that they’re living on top of me.

  Climbing the steps, slouching through the main entrance and into the living quarters, I’m ready to just crash. On the way to my apartment, I stop by the study to grab a cognac, hoping the alcohol will help put me out of the misery of being separated from my one true obsession. Tonight feels like years away. Light shines at the edge of the door. I’m turning away, but Paul flings the door open.

  “The wanderer returns. Have you been out playing the wild rover?” He reaches to muss my hair. I set my jaw and give him a look that makes him stop.

  Inside the study, John peers at me. I’m here, so I may as well get my drink. John says, “Boyo looks like he’s hungry for a steak.”

  Peter laughs, “And he’s not going to fuss about waiting until the cow is finished with it.”

  John claps me on the shoulder. I shrug his hand off. I’m not in the mood.

  “Stay hungry, my lad,” he tells me. “We’ve got business tonight and we’ll need that fire in your belly.”

  I look up. John sees me draw breath to object.

  He raises a finger. “Father’s orders.”

  That means the subject is closed. Obedience to the head of the family is not optional or negotiable. Our father is head of the organization. His word is law. And none of us are ever going to forget it.

  She probably wasn’t going to show up tonight, anyway.

  I was a one-night stand for her. She used me to rip up her V-card.

  I pour a stiff one and tell myself, Cheer up, Peter. You got exactly what you wanted.

  It was the best night of my life. So why am I so defeated?

  Next morning, the family gathers for breakfast at the big kitchen table. Father looks down the table at my sisters JoJo and Mary, Mary’s husband Connor, the O’Malley underboss, and us three brothers. Paul perks up when JoJo announces her friend Lucy is coming by, but he covers his excitement fast.

  We know important family business is ahead.

  Father stares coldly over his black coffee, all the way down the table at me. “What have you learned about the Morettis’ plans?”

  Everyone falls quiet.

  I look in his eyes. “What I told John. They gathered again yesterday. Mafia members from Boston and Los Angeles came, too.”

  His look leaves me in no doubt that he’s disappointed.

  “Something’s brewing,” he snarls. “They’re after a piece of real estate I’ve had my eye on. A casino downtown, ripe for development. I’ve talked with the owner. We’re close to a deal.”

  He looks daggers at me. I shrug. “Short of busting into the compound and sticking guns in everyone’s faces, I couldn’t have learned much more.”

  He looks around the table. “There’s a meet. Tonight. The Moretti family is looking to expand into downtown. They’ll try and muscle in on my deal. I’ll show them you don’t fuck with Liam O’Malley.”

  “Why not snipe it, Dad?” I suggest. “Get the jump on them. Get to the guy, close the deal before the meeting. Leave them there with their dicks in their hands.”

  You never know with Dad. Make a suggestion like that and he might put his arm around you
. Tell you he always had faith. Clap you on the shoulder. Buy you a Corvette or a Bentley.

  His face darkens. This is not one of those times.

  He glowers and leans on his huge fists, pushing his knuckles on the table.

  “You don’t show weakness in front of the Morettis. You show them who’s the fucking boss.” He rises in his chair. “Tonight they’ll learn the lesson hard.” His voice is dark and low, rolling thunder. “I’ll teach those cunts. You don’t fuck with Liam O’Malley.”

  He stands. His voice booms, cracking loud. We all stiffen. “Connor, make the arrangements.”

  Then Father looks at me.

  “Liam O’Malley is the fucking kingpin of Las Vegas. Everybody will know it tonight.”

  I’ve got no way to get a message to Giulietta. I’m mad at myself. Still, she had some fun, and I did too.

  She said it was just one night. And that wasn’t the part I listened to.

  I heard, Our moment. A moment out of time.

  Idiot.

  I have work to do. I may not like Dad’s decision, but I’m a professional.

  I have a contact. A maid in the Moretti compound. I did a favor for her louse of a boyfriend. She’d be better off if I’d put him in the ground, but people make their choices. Anyway, she’s grateful. That works for me.

  I also know some of the drivers I took pics of. They won’t be as eager to share information as Candace. That’s okay. I have other ways to encourage them.

  By about noon, I have the location of the meet and the full guest list. The Morettis booked a private room tonight in the back of the Strip Steak House for eight-thirty. Of course. It would be eight-thirty. When I’m set to meet Giulietta. I have the names of the maitre d’ and the wait staff. I know the kitchen porters and the wine waiter.

  The Morettis’ guests of honor are one Josey Markowicz and his big, not too bright son, Aaron. Josey Markowicz owns the King Pine casino.

  I text John the details. He can communicate with Connor. They all love the chain of command.