by Hamel, B. B.
I pulled her back and pushed her onto the bed. I ripped off her yoga pants, hungry, feeling my pulse quicken with every inch of skin she revealed. I turned her around and kissed her over her shoulder as I spanked her ass hard, gripping her firm cheeks, pressing my cock against her before slipping off her panties.
I lifted her hips up and licked her from behind. I slipped a slick finger deep into her soaked pussy, slid it in and out, fucked her like that before rubbing against her clit with the tip of my index finger. She moaned and wiggled her hips as I stroked myself, blood pumping, vicious need threatening me.
I didn’t need to talk as I pressed my cock against her dripping spot.
She looked over her shoulder, got up on her hands, sat up on her knees. I pulled her close, palmed her breasts, kissed her over her shoulder.
“I want this,” she whispered, staring into my eyes.
“What changed?” I asked, my voice a low growl.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t think anything. I think I just… realized what’s true and what isn’t.”
I kissed her, bit her lip, and pushed her forward. She gasped as I slid myself deep between her legs.
She was slick and warm and I growled with desire as I filled her deeper. I fucked her slow at first, letting my eyes roam along her back, her muscles tense and gorgeous. Her hips were wide and her ass shook with each thrust, driving me wild. I gripped her hips, holding them tight, plunging myself in and out before reaching around her to roll a finger along her clit.
That drove her wild. She moaned, worked her back more.
I let her ride it. I groaned as she moved, wiggling along my shaft. I worked her clit faster, her soaked pussy sliding up and down. I pulled her hair and slapped her ass then fucked her, took her the way I wanted, rough and without mercy.
Her breasts bounced with every thrust and I groaned in pleasure.
I pulled back, climbed onto the bed. Her eyes were filled with lust, brimming with need and desire as she climbed after me. She pushed me onto my back and I laughed as she straddled me.
“There you are,” I said. “I’ve been wondering where you were hiding.”
“Shut up,” she said, arching her back and gliding down my shaft. “Oh, fuck,” she whispered.
“You act like you’re all hate and anger,” I said, grabbing her hips, letting her ride my thick cock. “You pretend like you can’t stand the sight of me. But as soon as you get a taste, it’s on.”
She put her hands on my chest and leaned forward, pressing her breasts together as she rode me faster.
“You like to talk,” she said.
“I like to drive you wild,” I said. “Helps that you’re riding my cock like it’s your job.”
“Fuck,” she said, panting. “Don’t distract me.”
I slapped her ass hard. “I like distracting you. I think you’re always distracted around me. Thinking about riding this thick, hard cock.”
“Asshole,” she moaned, and I spanked her again.
“Go ahead, call me that one more time.”
“Fuck you, asshole.”
I sat up, grabbed her hair, slapped her ass hard. I pulled her down and fucked her, thrusting inside of her while she was on top. She gasped and I kissed her, tongue sliding against hers, and my cock took her hard, deeper and rougher than she thought.
I released her and she kept riding at that pace, working her hips, slick and gorgeous, sweat dripping down.
I watched her and basked in her beauty, in the way her muscles moved, in the faces she made as pleasure moved all over her body. This was what I wanted, what I’d been thinking about since the moment I saw her for the first time back in that little house.
My Clair, riding my cock.
“Whatever changed, little Clair, just know that you’re all mine now,” I said, voice a rumble. “Your tight body, your gorgeous, delicious pussy, your lips and tongue, your hard littlie nipples, it’s all mine. Every inch if you, and I’m going to taste it all. Do you hear me, little Clair?”
“Yes,” she gasped. “Oh, god, yes.” She rode faster, body working. I moved with her, fucking her, gliding in and out, my hand in her hair, my other hand on her ass. I spanked her, took her, pulled her close, and whispered in her ear.
“I want that slick pussy sliding up and down my cock,” I whispered. “I want to feel you come all over my shaft. I want to feel it, pretty little Clair, I want you to come so hard you scream my name. Come on, wake the whole fucking house up, you dirty little girl. Come for me, darling.”
She moaned, gasping, and threw her head back. I grabbed her hips and pressed her down hard as she came, moving her hips, grinding herself against me. I growled in delight as her eyes rolled back in her head and her back arched, hands grasping at my legs, trying to find purchase, trying to control herself, but she was so far gone, so beyond control.
Slowly she came down and slid off my cock, moaning as she collapsed onto her back. I smirked at her, still rock hard, and stroked myself.
She crawled over to me, eyes wide, then took me in her mouth.
“Good girl,” I whispered as she sucked me. “Good fucking girl. Lick your cum off my shaft.”
She moaned, low and throaty, sucking me faster and faster. I was right on that edge, had been riding it the whole time, and I knew I couldn’t help myself now. I teased her breasts as she went down deep on my cock.
I came in her pretty mouth, came hard between her lips.
She swallowed it up, licked it all and gobbled it down. I groaned, head tilted back. She cleaned me with her tongue, slow and precise, looking up into my eyes with this pretty smirk that drove me wild.
When she was done, I pulled her close and held her sweaty body against my own.
“There we go,” I said, my voice hoarse from groaning. “I’ve been thinking about that since we met.”
“And did I live up to your dirty mind?”
“You exceeded all expectations,” I said, and kissed her again.
We stayed like that, silent and close. I felt her breathing, felt her body.
“What you said out in the hall,” she said, breaking that comfortable silence.
Pulling us back down into reality.
“Yeah?”
“About the Don hurrying me.”
“I know.”
“Does that mean he just—” She paused and looked up into my eyes. “Is he going to take advantage of me?”
I opened my mouth to defend him then stopped. I couldn’t lie to her, not now, not ever.
“I don’t know,” I said. “He might just want to get the deal finished before whatever the Jalisco are planning. Or he might want to get his cut before he throws you away.”
“Would he do that? To his own niece?”
“I don’t know,” I said again.
“You know that’s wrong, don’t you?”
I looked into her eyes and reached out, touching her cheek. “I won’t leave you,” I said. “No matter what. If the Don wants to try and screw you over, I’ll argue on your behalf. And if he won’t see reason, I’ll keep you safe myself.”
“You’d go against your own people?”
“I’d do what I have to do,” I said.
She chewed on her lip then nodded to herself, like she was accepting my answer. She leaned her head against my chest again and we stayed wrapped in each other on top of the soft, silken sheets beneath the gauzy canopy of her enormous bed, feeling each other’s bodies, luxuriating in the touch of smooth skin and pleasure.
19
Clair
I spent the rest of that day in and out of bed with Luca, the world a blurry thing just in my peripheral vision, forgotten and set aside, ignored for his body, his touch, his taste.
He lounged back on my couch, a glass of whiskey in one hand, swirling it around. It was after ten at night and we’d just spent the last twenty minutes sweating in bed together, fucking for the fourth time that day. I felt sore, exhausted, so spent I could barely stand, and my head buzzed with
delight. I sat with my back against the arm of the couch and my feet in his lap, wearing a pair of cotton shorts and a loose t-shirt. He was in a pair of gym shorts and a tight black t-shirt he’d grabbed from his room a couple hours before.
“I’ve been wondering,” he said, “what made you change your mind?”
I pulled at a strand of hair, straightening it then letting it bounce back. “I talked with my mom this morning,” I said.
“Yeah? I find it hard to believe that endeared you to me.”
I grinned a little and shrugged, putting the lock of hair in my mouth, chewing on it. “You’d be surprised,” I said.
“What?”
I spit out the hair. “She told me about my dad,” I said.
“I bet that’s an interesting story.”
“I’d never really heard it before,” I said. “She didn’t talk about him, you know, before he died. Just talked about how bad the mob was, how awful they were, how she hated you all.”
“I can see where you got your charm from then.”
I gave him a flat glare. “She was in love with him,” I said. “Really loved him, and when I realized that, I sort of realized that everything after, all that hate, it’s all grief. I mean, you guys are a bunch of bastards and assholes and killers, but you’re not all evil. I don’t think so, anyway.”
“We’re not,” he said, sipping his whiskey.
“When I realized I didn’t know what to think, I decided I should just… do what felt good.”
“Makes sense.” He tilted his head, swirled the drink. “That’s what I’ve always done.”
“Yeah?” I asked. “How does that work out?”
He was quiet for a few seconds. “Not always great,” he said. “But then again, I don’t have many regrets, so it must not be so bad.”
“Maybe I should be more like you.”
He looked at me and grinned, raising his glass in a salute. “Damn right you should be.” He took a long sip, nearly finishing the glass.
I laughed, and just as I was about to tell him he’s an idiot, there was a deep, floor-shaking boom from somewhere nearby.
I sat still, blinking, staring around. Luca sat up straight, pushing my feet off him. He threw back the rest of the whiskey and listened, his back straight, not moving an inch.
“What was that?” I asked. “I felt it in my chest. That was like…”
“Explosion,” he said.
And then there were more. Not quite as deep, but booming and rhythmic. Deep, sharp barks, muted by the halls, but close by.
He got to his feet. “Stay here.”
“Luca?”
“Stay here.” He looked at me, his eyes hard. “Don’t move.”
More barking grunts, compounded by shouts, a few screams. Luca ran to the door and pushed it open, looking both ways, before disappearing into the hall.
I jumped to my feet. There were more shouts from somewhere, more explosions. Another one, deep and sharp, rocked the ground around me. Dust fell from the light fixtures and a lamp rattled on the sideboard. I ran to the door and threw it open, looking out into the hall.
My mother was looking out of her room, and I could see the fear etched in her eyes.
“What’s going on?” I called to my mom.
She shook her head. “Those are guns, I think. Serious guns.”
More clattering, more shouts, more booms.
“A lot of guns,” I said.
“Get back inside.” I turned to see Luca coming toward me. He wore a bulletproof vest over his shirt and held his Glock in his hands, his eyes hard and serious. “Get in your room.”
“Should we stay here?” I asked. “What if something bad’s happening?”
“Something bad is happening,” he said. “Go get your mom and stay in her room.”
I hesitated but I saw the look on his face. I nodded and hurried down the hall toward my mother. “We need to go inside,” I said.
“What’s going on?” she asked, staring at Luca.
“I don’t know,” he said. “But please, Mrs. Riva.”
Mom opened her mouth to argue but I shook my head and nudged her to the door. “Mom, come on.”
She shut her mouth, let me pull her into the room. Luca followed, shut the door behind us, and strode to the phone next to the bed. I took Mom to the couch and sat her down as more gunfire erupted, this time sounding closer. There were screams, shouting, and it sounded like chaos was breaking out all around.
Luca picked up the phone and waited. I could see the tension all over him.
“Eunice,” he barked. “What’s happening?”
Silence for a moment. His face fell, and I knew right away, I knew in that instant.
They were coming for me.
“Right,” he said. “Right. I understand. How many?” Another long silence. “How bad?” Another silence. More gunshots made my mother jump and I could see her terror, written in every muscle. “Fine,” Luca said. “I’ll make it happen.”
He slammed the phone down and turned to us.
“Luca?” I asked. “What’s happening? What’s going on?”
“Jalisco,” he said, his eyes hard. “They hit the mansion.”
“What?” my mom said, recoiling. “Those are gunshots?”
“Gunshots, explosions, screams.” He waved his hand like that was nothing. “Worse to come. You two need to accept that this is happening, and the only way out is to stick with me.”
“No,” my mom said. “Oh my god, no, this is insane. Call the police!”
Luca stared at her, and I could almost see the mental calculations.
“We can’t do that,” I said to my mom, grabbing her hand. “You know that.”
“This isn’t a game, Clair,” she hissed at me. “Those are real guns downstairs. Someone might get killed.”
“Plenty of people are hurt already,” Luca said. “And if we don’t get moving, we’re going to end up dead with them.”
I squeezed Mom’s hand hard and made her look at me. I leaned toward her and tried my best to remain calm, even if I felt like I was screaming on the inside.
“We have to go with Luca,” I said, voice as gentle as I could make it, though it quavered like a broken radio. “We have to go with him right now, Mom. We have no other options.”
She opened her mouth to argue but snapped it shut when more gunshots cracked through the house. They sounded closer now, louder, and the shouts were more distinct, though remained impossible to understand.
“Okay,” she said through a clenched jaw, eyes brimming with fear. “Okay, okay, okay. I can do this.”
“You can do this,” I said, and stood up. I helped her to her feet and turned to Luca.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Ready.”
He met my gaze and I got the sense he wanted to say more.
But he strode to the door without a word, pulled it open, and looked outside.
Gunshots rang out, but far away. Luca grunted, motioned with his gun.
“Run left,” he said. “Get to the far door.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“Right behind. Just get moving.”
I pulled Mom, and at first it felt like she wasn’t moving. But when we reached the door and turned into the hall, I felt her begin to run with me. I tore down the plush carpet, past the expensive oil paintings, and watched the overhead lights flicker as another deep resonant boom sounded somewhere downstairs.
“Go,” Luca said, coming up behind us. “Go now, go go go.”
I sprinted to the far end and slammed into the door. I grabbed the handle, my palm sweating, my fingers shaking, and turned it. Luca growled something and I heard yelling at the far end of the hall as I got the door opened and staggered through. I hit a stairwell, nearly tripped and landed on my face, but caught myself on the railing.
“Down!” Luca yelled, dropping to one knee.
I yanked Mom against me and pulled her down against the steps. Luca fired his gun, the w
eapon recoiling in his hands, his face serious. I heard screams from down the hall and more gunfire erupted. The bullets smashed into the walls and the carpet around Luca, scattering wooden shrapnel against his face, creating little cuts all along his cheek, but he didn’t even flinch. He kept firing, eyes and hands steady, then turned to us.
“Move,” he barked.
And I was up again, pulling Mom along with me.
We ran down the steps, staggering against the wall. Luca grabbed my arm and pulled me along as I pulled my mother.
The bottom of the steps opened into a dim hall. Half the lights were off, and the rest were dimmed, like the building was running out of power. Luca strode forward, pulling us past closed doors, more paintings, more statues, more trappings of wealth.
A door on the left opened, or tried to, but Luca kicked it closed. Someone cursed on the other side, and Luca just shot it. Someone screamed and Luca kept going, barely slowing down. I didn’t know who he’d just shot, if they were on our side or not, but he didn’t seem to care.
We reached an intersection. Luca pressed his head out, motioning for us to wait. He looked then moved again, pulling me along. We staggered into yet another hall, this one with only two doors, one on the right and one at the far end of the hall.
He headed for the far end. As we passed the door on the right, it suddenly burst open and someone shouted as they staggered back. It was a man in a suit, black hair slicked back, blood splattered all over his white shirt. Luca spun to shoot, but held his fire.
“Martin,” Luca said as the guy staggered toward us. He leaned up against the wall, breathing hard, clutching at his gut. Luca went to him, grabbed his arm to support his weight. “What the fuck happened?”
“Came in… shooting… hand grenades…” Martin grimaced, shook his head. “Fucked everyone up, Luca. Killed… killed Tad. Killed… Gavin.”
“How many? Where are they?”
“I don’t know,” Martin said. “I just… got hit. Started running. Got lost. This fucking place, it’s a maze, man. Got lost in a fucking… ballroom.” He grimaced, coughed, groaned in pain.
“I’ve got you now,” Luca said. “Come on.”
Luca dragged Martin forward and I followed, pulling Mom along. We moved slower now as Luca worked to keep Martin upright. I could see the struggle in Luca’s eyes, but I was proud of him for making the right choice, even if everything in me screamed for me to run as fast as I could.
