by Lis, Heidi
Grabbing her hip with my other hand, I forced myself into her in a swift motion. Took her hard and fast, seeing the tears run down her cheeks, only fueled the intensity of my fucking. Izzabella scared, turned me on; it fed into my darkest passions. Feeding my soul, I craved more. That was the first night I introduced my knife in her trembling body. The pinch of her skin to the piercing bead of blood that appeared made me climax with such intense force. Her scream, the stream of blood running down her thigh, gave me what I had been craving all my life. Total domination; I owned her. Her body was fucking mine.
My new found love of her cry, her tears, her blood and the blade of my knife proved to be a useful tool with my sweet little Izzabella. Over time, seeing my marks on her proved to me and anyone else that she belonged to me, only me. Scarring that beautiful body so only I would appreciate it, was in part, for my own pure enjoyment. I did place my marks in areas that would be seen by any asshole who dared to sleep with what was already mine.
Izzabella would never want to take another man to her bed knowing her scars would show; how would she explain them. Any normal male would think twice about fucking a woman with knife scars on her most sensitive areas. I made sure they were easily seen, even by her whenever she looked at herself in the mirror; fucking brilliant if you ask me.
Things were great until she ended up pregnant. She was scared shitless, but I also saw happiness behind her eyes. She thought she was masking her real feelings, but I can read that woman better than anyone. I had to come up with some plan, what the hell was I going to do with a kid. My alliance to the ‘Lost Souls’ was my first and only priority. I never wanted a fucking kid, but; it would be an excellent bargaining tool to use with Izzabella.
When the baby came, Izzabella named her ‘Willow’, her attachment was immediate. I allowed them to be together for a few months. It got to be a problem whenever I went to have my wicked ways with Izzabella; she had too many excuses as to why she couldn’t. I am not a patient man by any means. I let that shit fly for a month or so; then it was me and my knife back to work.
Only this time, I had a baby. Izzabella tried to run from me once with the kid. Once she realized that was not going to happen, I took the only thing she loved in this world away from her. Willow, found a new family to raise her; stripped her right from Izzabella’s arms, never to see her again. From there shit got worse; she got her brother involved, and he turned up one night to confront me, me? Stupid bastard!
The bastard died in my hands. I made sure Izzabella saw it all. Fucker came and wanted to get her and the baby free from me. I have no idea how she got the information to her brother, but it could only be one person who leaked her shit; my sister.
Kara and I have a very strained relationship, once she got older and realized just how deadly I became with my band of brothers, she quickly knew her place. It took one of my brothers to show her exactly what would be done to her if she ever got involved. That shit included her best friend; my Izzabella and her offspring.
Turned that shit around, made it look like Izzabella got in a fight with her sick brother and in a heated argument she killed him. Made it look like Izzabella had lost her mind, doing drugs and whoring around town. Izzabella sounded like a messed up girl who was on a road of destruction. Such a blessing I came into the picture and looked after the poor, damaged girl. I was her White Prince that saved her from the path of drugs and uncertainty. This worked like a fucking charm; her family disowned her when the stories came out what happened to her brother. Her fucking father turned her over to me and said she was now my problem, not theirs anymore. Fuck, that was, easy.
Except now, after all the planning and time I had invested in this girl; she upped and left. Bitch knew what she was doing this time. Planned it well, if I didn’t want to kill her, I might just admire the way she did it. Used me and her fucking charms to disarm me and let me lower my guard. Used my tricks on me, hell I fell into her trap; hook, line and sinker. I admire that, but the bitch still has to be punished.
My ringing phone breaks my mental stroll down memory lane. “Yo,” I answer my phone with little or no welcome in my tone. Reliving this shit has me aggravated and pissed off. This tiny petite girl has me all sorts of fucked up.
“Is this Dominic Santos?” A rather sharp voice asks.
“Depends, what the fuck do you want?” I hate playing mind games and how the hell did this woman get my number. Who the fuck could this possibly be? I pulled the phone from my ear to look at the caller I.D. display. Not a number I recognize.
“My name is Tiffany; all, you need to know, is that I know where a particular woman is that you may want to find.” Speaking in a tone that no female ever did around me, this bitch must not know who the fuck she is talking with.
With a raised eyebrow, she does have my attention. “You got my interest! Go on.”
“Does the name Izzy mean anything to you?” She lets her name roll off her tongue with a smart ass undertone. Bitch is going to piss me off if she doesn’t tone down her bullshit. But she does seem to know my Izzabella, so I will have to wait to put this bitch in her place.
On one hand, this was just too easy. My night just got a whole lot better. Looks like I don’t need to spend time finding Izzabella; she came to me in the form of a bitch named Tiffany.
“Izzabella is her name. My Izzabella, how do you know her?” I shouted. Jesus, I hated when people called her Izzy. Her name is Izzabella, just the thought of holding her close to me again. Well, wow.
“Sorry, Izzabella. Do you want the wench or not?” She spits her venom, like my girl is some disgusting low life. Well, that shit just won’t fly with me.
“Don’t you ever call her a wench again. Hear me?” Bitch better fucking hear me.
“L-look; I want her to disappear. She has taken something from me, and she needs to give it back.” Bitch now is talking in a tone more suitable when speaking to Dominic Santos the ‘Enforcer of the Lost Souls.'
“What did she take of yours? A puppy maybe?” I’m getting a little annoyed now. Why would Izzabella want anything from this bitch?
”No asshole. My man.” Gritting her teeth.
“The hell you say. Izzabella knows better than to find a man, any man, but me.” I stand and want to punch something or better yet someone, my violent tendencies raging hard and fast.
”Seems that she has replaced you with my old man. Tell me you are going to come and take her back to wherever you call home.”
I’m seething but try to rein in my desire to kill someone. ”Where are you, exactly?”
”Seattle area, Monroe’s the name. Small town; my man owns a repair shop and until recently she worked for him. Got her fired, and I thought out of my man’s life, but now they seem to be back on. It’s a problem for me; he and my daughter are all I got. I want them ready and waiting for me, not her.” Bitch seems to be threatened by my girl. The idea, that my Izzabella is with any man, pisses me off, but the idea that my girl has put this bitch in her place; well that puts a smile on my face.
“A repair shop-huh? Might have an idea on how to get all the information I need before I surprise my sweet Izzabella again. Ready to work on a little surprise reunion with me so I can surprise my girl?” I ask her, as my mind is already planning ways to get my girl back.
“Fuck whatever; just get here and get this bitch’s claws away from my man.”
“This is the second time I am going to tell you to not call my girl names. Disrespect her again, and I just might have a problem with you as well. Now I got some plans to make, wait for my call.” Ending the call with this yapping cunt, I need my brothers at the ‘Lost Souls’ for some help with this.
I joined them when I first got to college; they were bad ass drug runners. No one messed with them ever. Met them through a friend of mine; Marcus. Did some trial runs, and then I was patched in as one of them; earned my mark because I had a talent for torturing people. We found this out on my second run with them. Some asshole was not paying t
he agreed price for his shipment of cocaine. Annoying the shit out of me, I took control of the situation and within record time, he gave us the money he owed, plus interest. Not only did I like what I did to this scumbag drug dealer, I fucking loved it. It was a rush beyond my wildest fantasies.
Chicago was our home turf, but we had members spread across the country. Whenever any member needed help or needed anything; they were ready to help. We ran drugs and weapons for many different cartels in the United States and Mexico. Over time, I paid my dues, and now I have men working under me. I was now the one they feared; no one wanted to get on my bad side. My particular skills spoke for themselves. Money, drugs, women - none of it held much interest to me. My stature in the ranks was the only thing I wanted, the only thing I needed. Women were all the same to me; I used them when I needed to get off. Only one woman has ever held my interest. The only one I could not tame, my Izzabella.
Having no idea if her appeal was due to her indifference to me, or if she was just that desirable, either way, I wanted that petite sassy mouthed girl. Only my love came at a different price, my love was rough, my love hurt. My love came at the end of a knife, a price too high for most. Only Izzabella; she was the only one who took my love, took my knife. Marking her the way I did was selfish, but that's the way it rolls with me.
Not to sound like a love sick fool, I am far from it. I like to hurt people, I like to hurt Izzabella. Her pain, her cries turn me on. Hurting her is my ultimate foreplay. As much as I want to spend my life dominating her, she needed to be taught a lesson for this latest stunt.
Would she have to die at my hands for her ultimate betrayal? She left me, and no one leaves me. EVER! I just don’t know if I want her to be permanently gone from my side.
Proving to be useful, this Tiffany just gave me my golden ticket back to Izzabella. Sometimes luck just finds me. Grabbing for my phone, I know who I need to call first.
“Yo Marcus,” blowing out puff rings of my cigar, “seems I have found my girl.” I could not contain my excitement.
“No shit, well what’s the plan?” Marcus seemed intrigued by what was going on in my head. He is the only one that understood what my real feelings for her were.
“Not sure. I need to plan this carefully, she ran on me once. This woman told me she was hanging with her man. If she has touched another man…” trying to control my temper, I say, “that may speed up my plans.” The thought of her not being around for me bothered me. I wanted her so much I ached, but to let her live with what she did? Can’t have my brother’s seeing me become weak for pussy. She may be my weakness, but no one will see it. I’ll cover that shit down deep, just like I covered up my real feelings about our daughter. Willow. My Willow looked just like her mother, but every time I looked at those little eyes, it killed me all again. The only thing, I saw, was her mother’s betrayal. I gave her all of me, and she chooses to leave me in the end. Drowning with my need to be with her and my desire for pain is pressing on my brain like some vice, gripping it tighter and tighter. Fuck it hurts. I end my call with Marcus, closing my eyes hard.
“It’s time my sweet, sweet Izzabella. Maybe our little reunion will have to involve our daughter.” Izzabella thinks she is gone, dead even. Showing her mother she is alive will screw with Izzabella’s mind. Fucking her up is what I do best.
Sitting at my desk, I plan out our reunion. Thinking back over all of this; all of my years living with and without her. A part of me, a small part of me wants to be good when it comes to her. A part wants to be the man she always wanted me to be. Blowing out smoke from my cigar, I puff out more ringlets. Thinking all about my Izzabella, I rub my dick, every thought of me taking her hard and fast, only falters my resolve. I unzip my pants and rub my hand along my growing cock. Closing my eyes, I dream of her brown eyes. I hear her cries; I see her blood running down her thighs. I speed up my stroking, harder and faster. It’s the sound of my Izzabella when she climaxes that is my undoing. The hot, wet stream of cum running down my hand has me whispering out to my girl.
“Izzabella. Oh, my sweetness. Look at what you do to me...I’m coming for you my dear. God, I can’t wait to have you between my legs. I need to be inside of you, owning you. Izzabella! Say you miss me too, say you’ll stay with me. Stay with me, and maybe I won’t hurt you…too bad!”
A WEEK HAD PASSED since that fucked up night at the bar when Tiffany came in and blew it all to hell. How did she know my actual name? I never told her. I don’t recall ever talking to Braxton about it either. He only calls me Izzy, never Izzabella. The only person, who knows my given name, would be Kara of course and Liam. The first night I met him, I accidentally told him my full name (note to self-stupid idea). The idea of her finding Dominic is unrealistic and downright frightening. She would have no idea where to look. Would she? Some lucky guess most likely, but the bitch is playing with my head, and I’m letting her.
Kara refused to let Tiffany spoil our plans for the game. My ribs were mouthwatering; the beer was cold and yes, Kara and I got down to our Kane and Crawford panties by the 3rd period. Ignoring the stares and sexy comments from Braxton, we paraded around the house to the tunes of Chelsea Dagger. Of course, I needed to explain who and what Chelsea Dagger was. Any God loving Blackhawks fan knows this is our goal song; it rocks so much I have it on my iPod. Most of my night was spent cheering my team on, and the other half ignoring Braxton’s comments about my favorite player Patrick Kane whenever he was on the ice. The idea, I was wearing another man's name on my ass, upset him. Once I explained that if my favorite player scored a goal before the end of the game, I would give him a certain sexual favor in return - his attitude, well let's say improved. He was yelling at the TV, cheering on #88.
“Yo’ man, get that puck in the damn net. My Izzy girl promises me a fuckin’ blowjob if you do.” He is shouting at the television holding his beer as not to spill a drop of it.
When it happened he jumped up so fast, his beer spilled all down his chest. To top off the night in the last 45 seconds of the 3rd period, my man caught a pass from Towes and shoots the puck top-shelf to score the winning goal. Yes, I had to explain top-shelf to Braxton. It was exhausting if I was completely honest. Never needed to explain hockey to any guy before, like ever!
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” pumping his fists in the air, Braxton hollers, “my new favorite player, got to love a man that helps me get my dick sucked.”
Oh my god, he acted like he won some lottery or something. Note to self, getting a blowjob as a reward is like winning the lottery. Ha, ha, ha, I’ve got to say, seeing Braxton so excited had my heart beating out of my chest. Little did he know how it pleases me to know how much I please him. Knowing I am good enough to please a man like Braxton means everything to me.
Happy to report I went to bed with a smile on my face and Braxton went to bed satisfied. Liam and Kara were like two horny teenagers. Swear to god, I think Kara was panty less by the end of the game. Luckily she had a very long shirt on that covered her ass. Life was good, fantastic company, excellent food, and hot sexy man by my side. I passed out between the soft kisses and the sweet nothings Braxton whispered in my ear. Panty melting and heart pounding, if I were not so worn out from my man’s loving, it would have kept me up. I swear my heartbeat races with each sound of his voice.
Today, Braxton phoned to let me know he was working late. A new customer at the shop was bringing in a couple of the higher end cars for him to work on. He was excited because it was going to bring in some serious cash. Liam was hanging around more because Tiffany was becoming a permanent fixture there as well. Something was off; this woman was becoming more and more of a pain in my ass. I call her a cock-block! Swear to God, this woman is causing me some serious sexual frustration. My rabbit and I are reacquainting ourselves with each other a lot as of late.
Kara stayed at my house while I worked my shifts at the Pub. The nights I worked late, she came in and sat at a table talking with Sam or Liam, who would make an appearance and drink with
my girl. The two made a great couple, all cute eyes and sweet laughs between them. Watching them for the past few nights, I looked at the gentle caresses of their touches. A kiss here and there, they laughed and carried on like they had no care in the world. It made me envious and sad. I wanted that, I wanted carefree, I want the sweet kisses and the hand holding. I’m missing out on all of this with Braxton all because of Tiffany. It seems she has everyone’s attention.
Braxton checks in with me daily, but the amount of times appears to be dwindling. It’s either he is busy getting work done, or he is busy trying to get Tiffany figured out. By the end of the day, he is spending time with Eve. How can I complain about him spending time at work or with his daughter? I can’t. It’s the time spent with Tiffany that gets under my skin. The more time with her and the less with me, well this is what she wants. She wants time to remind him of better times with her.
Having time off from work, I decide I am going to go and surprise Braxton at work. I can’t stay long, but I need to see him. Well to be honest, I miss the hell out of him. The way he looks at me, the way he kisses me, and the way he just melts my insides when he smiles at me. Jesus!
Pulling into the parking lot, I find it to be pretty empty. Not many bikes or cars around. I do however see two very flashy red sports cars in the customer parking area. WOW. Those must be the cars Braxton is fixing for his new client. Damn they are something else. Inspecting them closer, they seem to be Audi R8’s. They are stunning, and I imagine what it would be like to drive one of these babies.
With a shake of my head, I skip up to the door. The idea of seeing those damn sexy eyes of Braxton’s has my insides all twisted into knots. Opening the door, I find the lights are on but being this deserted is weird; being that it is the middle of the day. What the hell? Walking to the garage, I peer inside, it is dimly lit and empty. Must be lunchtime, the guys tend to dim the lights when no one was in the shop. Just as I am about to head back to his office, I do hear some soft voices.
