Clasping his hands together, he asks, “How does Dom feel about that?”
“He hurt his children—all three of us,” I hatefully hiss. “There is no blood that can save him now. I am Dom’s family tree.”
“I wish we could find him,” he informs. “Lotus gangs worldwide have been looking for him. Who else would you fight?”
With a snarl, I growl, “Deacon-fucking-Cruz.”
“Are you going to kill him?”
“I might.” I lift a brow.
“Because Iris had an affair…”
“No,” I calmly say, shaking my head. “Because he beat the fuck outta me twice, and he has it coming to him.”
“You want me to switch them back…”
With a scowl, I nod, “I might.”
A few minutes later, he volunteers, “The Bratva only got involved because of the woman at the hotel.”
“What woman?”
“Amber Rosen.”
My jaw clenches. “Is she here?”
“I don’t know, but I can tell you Diablo Cruz has seen the sights.”
“Get surveillance on him,” I hiss, thinking. “Amber fucking sold Iris out to Allegiance.”
Fuck…Etienne is done…I won’t get to drop twenty in her panties.
But appointments with Nero the Black are booked.
An hour later, Deacon mutters, “The Irish tried to make a deal with Campanelli.”
Can this day get any goddamned worse?
And I am…in a cell.
With the cigarette dangling out of my mouth, I mumble, “… What?”
“You heard me, Raniero.”
Flicking the lighter, I stare at his intense blue eyes. He isn’t fucking around. He’s dead serious, and that gives me a case of creepy crawlies. “Since when do daegos get in bed with the Irish?”
“Desperate times, brother.”
“Because Allegiance is about to hit Europe,” I inform, gripping the bridge of my nose. “Fucking Amber sold Iris’ Etienne out.”
“That’s not all,” he knowledgeably quips. “Lotus has Torrente wrapped around her pinky tighter than your favorite stripper’s legs ridin’ that pole…”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because he is transferring a shitton of merch to Lotus unless she is buying it.”
“What kind of merch?”
“Guns…lots of fucking guns…”
Gripping the bridge of my nose, I huff, “What the fuck is she doing?”
“Starting a war.”
“If that is true, Lotus is planning on going against Morpheus, and she isn’t that stupid.” I fill the room with a foggy cloud. “Unless she managed to get Morpheus at the table with Torrente, but when would she have done that?”
“There are these things called devices that you can have face-to-face meetings on.”
“Thanks!” I flip him off and smirk. “How do you know all of this?”
“Did you think I fucked Rowan to get my rocks off?”
“Ya, I figured she was hot. And you were hard,” I sarcastically dismiss as he once again proves his willingness to do anything in the interest of Iris Nakamura or Sal Raniero. “You’re a ruthless mofo.”
“Jesus!” He runs his fingers through his hair and sets his jaw. “How much intelligence do you think I have?”
“I dunno, considering you finagled Lotus outta Houston with your dick. Don’t even start with that poor, poor pitiful biker boy bullshit. We both know you’re as good as me.”
He points his finger. “That was long before my dick got anywhere near Lotus.”
“Right!” I nod. “You were off playing single gay lumberjack as opposed to gay jack with my gal pal.”
“Fuck you!” He banters with a laugh. “You’re such a fucking asshole. At least you’re in good spirits.”
“It’s a farce,” I inform, mischievously grinning. “So, Kill Rat didn’t take the deal?”
“Nope,” he says. “No one will touch the Irish.”
“Let me guess, Saint,” I boom. “You want to.”
“I’ll do it if you will,” he challenges. “Share the four-leaf clover with me?”
“This whole thing is fuckin’ everyone up the ass.” I shake my head. “Screw the lube. Dry fuckin’ all the way. I’ll do the damn Irish if you want.”
He snorts. “That is an interesting way to put it.”
“I requested to fight you…”
His blue eyes widen. “… What? Why?
“Because I can’t be the one to kill your brother.”
“But you’ll kill me?” he chirps, hitting a new high—still deep and gravelly but lower and grittier. “I’m DNR.”
“… Do not resuscitate?” I joke, “Not a problem!”
“No, fucker! Deacon Nakamura Raniero,” he snickers. “What if I told you I had a ball of yarn for you to play with?”
“What the fuck are you talking about now?”
“I purchased an expensive treat for you from Carlo Torrente.”
“Why the hell are you talking to Carlo?”
“He listed a prize on the market, and I bought it.”
His eyes dance with a dark enticement as I quiz, “… Who?”
“Bitch should never have stepped foot in New York.” He snarls, “And we got one of three.”
Giving him a high five, I snicker, “Is she going to turn a couple of pirouettes in the kill zone?”
“We can only hope she’ll put on a show to remember.”
“I don’t need her to,” I cockily stress. “I’m fully capable of holding the center stage on my merit.”
“You’re welcome,” he gloats. “And I’ll fight you any day.”
“Never think for one second that I don’t think you’re the smartest son of a bitch on the block, and I say that with absolute respect to your Ma.”
“… Because you persuaded her to marry Delarte Cristos?”
“I put you in contention to run with the big dogs because he is going to leave every last fucking dime to damn Trudy Diaz,” I boast, drooling and throbbing at how diabolical my plan is. “And they have no idea how vicious Saint Cruz’s bite is.”
“You plan on killing him?” He tilts his head, and his golden threads fall to the side. “Only with you by my side, Snookums.” He winks.
With a deviant scowl, I snicker, “I’m not going anywhere without you, Honeybear. I want Amber KOS.”
“Kill on sight?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Are you sure?” he asks. “Because I’ll find the bitch just to pop her off.”
“She’s threatened my girl one too many times to keep using her lungs.”
91
show me your tits
His Butterfly
The knock on the door later that night sends a panicking shiver through me. I glance at the untouched champagne and the ice melting in the bucket as I meander over in my silk lavender nightgown. I hope Deacon has good news, and the violence has been canceled.
“Oh! My God!” I squeal at the guy in the sexhat and jeans wearing a sexy fucking smirk. I leap into his arms. “Salvatore!”
He picks me up, and I clamp my legs around his waist as his mouth crashes to mine. He slips his tongue between my lips as we slather one another with the sensual reunion kiss. As I tightly tether to his frame, he steps inside and closes the door behind him. “You can’t keep me away with your do not disturb...”
“I would never!” I giggle smiling. “What are you doing here? Is the silly scuttle over?”
“No,” he replies. “I promised The Chairman if he let me leave that I would be there. And he promised if I did the fight that Cruz could do training with me.”
“… What?”
He walks to the living space and spots the bubbles. “We should order another bottle or two of this and talk about this later. I have other things on my mind.”
I can’t hold back my happiness. “But, you may not…” His lips sweep over mine again, and he silences the awakenin
g demons I fear. Laying my forehead against his, I steal his hat and put it on my head. “I’m scared.”
“We aren’t talking about the bad stuff.” He sets me down. “I’m starving,” he mumbles, ruffling through his hair and grabbing the room service menu as he straddles over the arm of the sofa. Drawn like a magnet, I cannot stay away from him, wedging between his thighs. I stare at his well-angled jawline as he chews on the gum, and I smell the mint. I flick my tongue over my lips and taste the reminder. Reading the menu, he drops his hand to my hip. “I need food and sex, and so much you.”
“Please don’t die…”
“Baby.” He glances up. “I’m not dying tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the day after that.”
“You never know…”
“I will get out of this,” he assures. “And I will be great. We will be great.”
“Salvatore…”
“Don’t,” he warns, pressing his finger to my lips. Standing up, he tugs his shirt off, unzips his pants, and pulls out his cock. “Kneel on the sofa, suck my dick, and make yourself feel better.” He smirks. “And not another word about tomorrow until I bring it up. The only thing I want up is me.”
“Yes…Sir,” I formally reply, and he winks. He can calm everything in an instant with a simple command.
He keeps chewing his gum and studying the menu—which is in Japanese with English underneath. He’s trying to learn the language, and truth be told, he is doing far better than me.
The Lotus is fluent in one language—Salvatorian. I trust he’ll take care of the rest.
My hand wraps around his growing erection as I lovingly run my lips over him. He swipes his hat off my head and tosses it on, off to the side, total thug style. His hand pets my back. “How about a burger?”
I moan. “Yes,” I garble with his dick down my throat. “Please.”
“Medium rare?”
“Yes!”
“Fries? Salad?” he asks, flipping through the menu. “Oh, hell, they have cheesecake.” My eyes beg, and he snarls. “Okay, I’m ordering. Be quiet, my little cocksucker.”
I pay no attention to what all he is saying to the hostess, only the ripples his authoritative tone gives me. My focus is on him. I lick up the ridge, and his voice teeters on edge. I bite the piercings and pull just a little before running my teeth over the head. He has a gorgeous curve to his cock that hits that spot perfectly. It’s snug. And good.
He returns the phone to the base as he gently pushes my body back onto the sofa. Kicking off his boots and jeans, he falls on top of me. Skimming his hands up under the nightgown, he mutters, “Miss Nakamura…you’re wearing panties…”
“I wasn’t expecting you,” I whisper, scratching my nails over his shoulders and back. “I thought it would be Deacon.”
“... Were you going to be good?”
“Yes,” I mutter as his cock hugs my thigh. “You’re so hard.”
“Ya, I’ve got the most beautiful girl in the world with her legs spread under me.”
“We can’t just leave?”
“No,” he says. “We can’t.” He shifts his hand to grip his shaft. “May I make love to you?”
“God, you don’t have to ask!”
“I’m a gentleman with manners…sometimes.”
Pulling the lace to the side, he slowly thrusts into my wetness. “You only have manners…”
“Sometimes,” he repeats with a wink. “What’s going on with you and Torrente?”
Beneath his muscled frame, I cannot escape. “His family wants Campanelli and Raniero out of the game. I promised I wouldn’t make a move to prohibit his actions.”
“And yet, you bought into both.”
“Yes,” I whisper, closing my eyes. “So, I can dissuade that from occurring. His goal is to rip them apart.”
He bucks faster with an urgency. Sweat beads on his skin as he questions, “What is your goal?”
“To get them back in the right hands,” I moan, curling my legs around his as it won’t be long before he launches. “Fuck me, Sal…fuck me!” I beg. “Come inside of me!”
“You’re so damned beautiful.”
“I am in love with you,” I whisper between kisses to his lips. “And I swear if you leave me tomorrow, I will never forgive you. It will be the worst sin you’ve ever committed against me.”
“Iris…” he groans, pumping deeply. “Iris… Mrs. Raniero…”
“God! Yes!” I cry out, knowing his head is in the game. He isn’t leaving me. “I’m going to come, Lucy…”
“Give me that kitten!”
“Shit!” I shudder under his shadow as he unloads. “Take it! Take it!”
Breathing heavy, he collapses and nuzzles my neck. “I’m not leaving you because you make my dick happy.”
I grin wide because he remembered.
He isn’t the same.
And neither are we.
We’re better than I ever dreamed.
In the bathtub overlooking the Tokyo skyline, I watch as he pops the cork on the bubbles. He hands me the bottle. I put my lips on the neck, and I stop. “I…”
He tilts his head. “Is it okay? I’ve got another.”
“I just need to eat something,” I excuse as he takes the bottle and hands a quarter of the burger to me. “Eat that. Have you eaten today at all?”
I shake my head. “I’ve been too busy, too worried sick about the thing we aren’t talking about.”
“Okay, well, you’re going to eat this, and if you want more, I’m ordering.”
I snicker, “You know me too well.” He undoes his jeans, and I bite my lip at the sight of his cock pressed against the zipper. My toes curl. My heartbeat quickens. My pussy slicks with desire. He douses the plate of fries in ketchup, and I beam a smile. “I could definitely eat some more of that.”
“You swallow food, and I’ll let you swallow dick.”
“Dammit! Tough crowd!”
“Hell, yes!” he laughs, getting in the water across from me. “I didn’t do all of this for my girl to waste away.”
“I’m leaving after the fight.”
“Don’t remind me,” he passively says, feeding fries to me. “This is a bad topic.”
“I have business in the States.”
“What can I do to convince you to stay?”
With command, I snicker, “Nothing. But after the events in New Orleans, Kali and Ho will be with me.”
“I’m not happy about any of this,” he grumbles, agitated.
“It doesn’t matter if you are happy or not, Mr. Raniero, I am The Lotus, and I won’t be your trophy wife. If you need one of those, I suggest Hannah Cruz.”
“I’m going to replace Kali and Ho,” he murmurs, dodging my sideswipe and flipping the table on me. “I’m going to be your mofo badass trophy husband.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“Just wait,” he challenges. “I’ll be taking Cruz to Gifu, and then we’re sticking to you like fucking gum on the red soles of your Louboutins.”
I can’t help but giggle. “You’re so confident,” I mumble, enjoying the delivery of potatoes from his fingers. “You think you’ve got this all wrapped up with ribbons and bows, but your European excursion will take time.”
“The only thing I’m putting a bow on is your ass,” he snickers. “I’m never going to approach anything with the thought of losing. That’s just dumb. There is always a work-around. Sometimes, you just gotta find it.”
“What’s your work-around this time?”
“I’m fighting Saint.”
“… What?” I spit the bite of food into my hand and set the remainder on the plate. He quickly grabs my hand and laps up my pre-chew like a carnivorous beast. “You can’t!”
“He won’t kill me,” he insists, still eating. “And I won’t kill him, but…” He gulps the bubbles and swallows. “You’re gonna get hella turned on.”
“… Gee, thanks?”
He burps. “Excuse me.” His emeralds flare t
o mine. “Trust me. I fuckin’ got this shit.”
“You’re such…”
“Such what?”
“You’re being real,” I whisper, blinking. “And it means a lot to me.”
“I can keep you out of it, or I can put you in it up to your neck with me.” He looks me in the eye. “If you would prefer I stop sharing…”
“No!” I cry out, crawling over to his lap. He’s killing the burger but offers a bite to me. “I don’t want that. I want you.”
“… Again?” he mumbles with his mouthful. “Show me your tits.” I arch up and my head lulls back as water drips from my hair. “God damn! It’s an incredible lap dance with a delicious burger.”
“Did they not feed you?”
“Nup,” he mumbles, running his knuckles over the side of my breast. “I’m famished, I tell you.”
I rise from the water, straddling my legs over his, and he touches my belly. He furrows his brow but says nothing. “You like what you see.”
“I like that pussy,” he suggests, dipping his finger along the slit. “Turn around and bounce that ass a few times so I can go fuck you again while we wait on room service.”
Rolling my hips, I carefully spin in the bath. I drop it down and grind my butt against his dick. “Are you ordering more food?”
He gropes my ass. “And more sex. I’m going to eat the cake for dessert.” He grins sexy as fuck. “The only question is, will you let me eat the cupcake too?”
With a blush on my cheeks, I giggle, “Is this what marriage with you is going to be like—lap dances and rim jobs?”
“Yes,” he acknowledges. “Work. Food. Sex. Not always in that order. My demands are few.”
Closing my eyes, I rock my curves up in my impromptu performance. “Mama will supply.”
“Oh, you will, Darlin’.”
“Harder!” I grip the sheet as he rockets his dick into my pussy from behind. “Give it to me, Sal!”
He swings the belt, popping my butt several times. “I love how well you mark. It’s such a fucking turn on. Say it again.”
Diary of a Submissive (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 4) Page 77
