“Tony, please—Jesus!”
He ignores me as his hands caress my bare ass, his tongue continuing its torture as he fucks me with his mouth. I dig my fingers into his hair and pull hard, and he lets out a muffled growl.
“You’re so fucking wet for me.”
His finger curves into my pussy and I moan out loud as it slides into me. His tongue flicks over my clit as his finger fucks me mercilessly, and I clench my muscles, face screwed up almost in pain. I just want him to fuck me, already. Just fuck me!
Then his tongue slides in again and he presses his face to my pussy, burying himself as deep as he can go as he pinches my clit. A violent reaction rips through my body, and I cry out loud as contractions seize me. Ecstasy rolls through me as Tony pulls away, laughing. He kisses my inner thigh and I dig my hands in his hair so painfully that he winces.
I slide down his chest, and as my hands explore him—the rock-hard cock between his legs—I want him again. My swollen core clenches hard, and I just yank his shirt apart, hard enough so that several buttons fly off.
He laughs as they scatter loudly over the floor and his wet lips press against mine. “You are so fucking eager. I love it.”
I open my mouth, tasting myself, loving the way my musk mingles with his scent. My hands move over his ripped, tattooed muscles, and I want to lick every hard bump and stretch of taut flesh.
Suddenly he buries his hand in my hair and pulls hard. “I don’t care if our arrangement isn’t real, your tongue will only taste my cock.” His fingers shove inside me. “Same with your pussy. It’s mine, along with the rest of you. I have a reputation, and you’re not going to fuck it up.”
“So you can fuck whoever you want, but I can’t? That’s not fair.”
“Nothing about the life is fair.”
I curl my lip bitterly when I look at his rigid face. He’s right, though. Mafiosi may fuck behind their wives’ back, but the wives definitely don’t do the same thing. Not if they know what’s good for them.
It’s fucked up.
“You want to be married to me? You have to play the game.”
That’s right. Play the game.
A satisfied smirk flicks over his face and then is replaced with smoldering lust. I know that I’m just a good lay to him. He doesn’t do relationships. I can see the conflict in his eyes.
“Don’t get attached to me, Elena. I’ll just disappoint you. Just expect great sex from me, nothing else.”
“I don’t know if I can detach like that.”
His voice is ragged. “Try.”
His hand gropes my breast, his thumb stroking my nipple as he kisses me again, and then he leads me to the huge window and turns on the light so that we light up like a Christmas tree. Everyone in the neighborhood can see us. Excitement runs up my leg when he slides up behind me, kissing my neck. A possessive arm snakes around my waist and grabs my tits roughly.
“Do you want to please me, baby?”
His lips sear my neck over and over, like hot brands. It’s as though he’s marking me as his.
“Yes, fuck—of course—”
I can’t fucking think when you’re playing with my tits and kissing my neck.
“If you want to be in this house, you’ll let me fuck you in front of the whole world.” He squeezes my breast again. “I want them to see me claiming your beautiful body. I want every asshole looking in my apartment to be jealous of me. I want your ex to see me banging his girl.” A wolfish grin smiles at me, reflected from the glass. “The fact that I’m fucking a made guy’s girl gives me a bigger thrill than finding a new piece of ass every night.”
He’s cruel and crazy, but the hard bump digging into my ass is impossible to ignore. I turn around in his arms and I grab his thick cock, loving how his eyes lock onto mine. I sink to my knees and kiss him through his slacks, feeling him twitch.
It’s fucking crazy. I shouldn’t feed his ego, but his words have me on fire, and I’ll do anything for him. I’ll blow him in front of the window, and I hope Rafael sees. A savage pleasure burns my chest at the very idea.
Fuck you, asshole. You and I are done.
I tear the slacks from his hips. Without even looking at him, I slide his hard length in my mouth as his hands caress my head. The long sigh he gives me makes my pussy contract, and I reach around his muscled thighs to run my hands over his ass. I stick my tongue out, imaging that asshole watching from the ground, and I take his cock as deep as I can. I want that jerk to see me blowing Tony with more enthusiasm than I ever showed him.
Tony lets out a volley of swear words in French that makes the glow between my legs pulse.
“Crisse de tabarnak… Keep going, baby!”
I ride my tongue under the ridge of his cock, flicking it over his head. The sloppy, wet noises echo in his apartment and I see myself, head swinging back and forth as his hands fist my hair. Then he moves his hips, grunting loudly. My jaws widen as he pushes all the way down, and I push my tongue out so that it just barely strokes his balls. His abdomen presses against my nose as I feel him throb inside my throat, and then he pulls out so that I can breathe.
“Do you like it when I fuck your mouth?”
My chest heaves as I catch my breath, his cock rock hard in my hands. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
He strokes my head in a surprisingly tender gesture. “All right, baby. Open wide.”
I grab his thighs and open my mouth obediently. He thrusts inside me slowly, gradually picking up the pace. Then he buries himself. I feel the thickness bulging down my throat as his hips slide closer and closer to my eyes. My air chokes off and he bends slightly, grinding his cock against my lips even though it can’t go any deeper. I clutch his thighs, wanting more of him.
“Fuck!”
He pulls out and looks down at me, raking a shaking hand through his hair. He grabs my arm and pulls me up roughly. “I need that pussy of yours now.”
An indescribable look consumes Tony’s face before he crushes his lips against mine and slams me against the glass. His arms curl underneath me and he lifts me over his powerful waist. A thickness presses against my core and suddenly my walls yield around him. I bury my face in his neck as his cock sinks into me.
My legs wrap around him and he stabs my pussy with his cock, burying his face in my neck. God, it’s so long and deep. I feel it sliding up my channel, widening the walls. Then he thrusts hard, and it knocks the breath out of me.
Again.
And again.
And again.
I moan to the ceiling as he kisses my neck. His balls slap against my pussy as his body rocks with his thrusts. My back freezes against the cold glass, but I imagine the show we must be giving to anyone looking out the window, and it fills me with fire. My flesh stings as Tony takes one of my nipples in his mouth and bites down, pulling my waist to bury his cock inside me at the same time.
“Fucking gorgeous tits.”
He throbs inside me, slowly pulsing in and out as his tongue works magic on my tits. He takes my breast in his cavernous mouth and sucks hard, flicking his tongue over my nipple. It’s as though he’s rubbing my clit, and the ruthless pounding tightens the coils inside me like a spring. My moans cut off sharply with a jerk of his hips. Then he lifts his head with a manic grin on his face, and I know that every sound I make feeds his energy.
He kisses me and swallows my moans. I make several more desperate sounds and then he bites my lip hard and thrusts. The glass groans as I’m crushed against it. His body rubs against my clit and fireworks explode in my abdomen, my pussy clenches over him, and he sucks hard on my bottom lip. Then his cock makes a twitch inside me and his low voice groans in my mouth. Liquid warmth fills me as he makes one last, violent shove, and another.
Then, shaking, he lowers me to my feet. I tremble on my legs and sit down against the glass, feeling like a puddle of water. Tony sits down next to me and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me into his heated chest.
It’s relaxing and comfortable,
sitting here in his arms.
“So, do you think anyone saw us?”
A shaky laugh leaves my mouth as I glance at the street. “I don’t know.”
Now that it’s over, a stab of anxiety hits my heart. We both got a bit carried away in the heat of the moment.
“I wonder if he’s out there—watching.”
The thought sends goose bumps prickling my flesh. “I doubt it.”
“We’ll have to rectify that.”
My body shudders. “Tony, I don’t want to provoke him. You don’t either.”
“Oh, I do. It gets me off, Elena.” He strokes my hair. “Fucking you is playing with fire. If he had any inkling that we were messing around, I would get killed.”
I turn around in his arms and look at his strangely calm face. “Then why are you doing this?”
“Because I don’t care.”
He smirks, but I don’t feel any of the warmth. It’s like being doused in ice water.
I really did make a deal with the devil.
TONY
The cold liquid burns a line of fire down my throat. It’s raw. It hurts. It used to be that the pain was enough to drown out the gnawing ache in my chest. After years and years of fucking people up, and disposing bodies, the pain vanished. Just like everything else.
I slam down shots because I want to put on an act. I want to look like a man at the end of his rope.
Tommy’s bar is the perfect place to do this. There are wise guys everywhere, and news will spread fast.
I’m already attracting looks from the other guys for keeping to myself and not saying a damn word to anyone. My eyes stare straight ahead into the blackboard list of beers on tap, ignoring Genevieve, who whispers something into Tommy’s ear. I feel his stare, even if I can’t really see it.
Tommy’s not buying my act, but Francois and Johnny openly gawk at me from across the bar, giving me odd looks.
“Qu’est-ce qui se passe avec lui?” What’s wrong with him?
My captain, Francois, shrugs. I make a show of burying my face in my hands and rubbing my head. My shoulders slump and I bury my fingers in my hair, fighting to keep the laughter shaking in my chest inside me.
“I’ll go ask,” I hear him say.
I try not to smile as I hear his footsteps growing louder, and then a heavy hand drops on my shoulders and shakes me roughly.
“Tony, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I don’t want to fucking talk about it.”
I can almost see the surprise on his lined face. Nothing really ever gets me down, and seeing me like this must be unnerving.
Hopefully I’m not overdoing it.
“Jesus. What happened?”
Slowly I raise my head from my hands and look into his concerned face. “I got a girl pregnant.”
The words explode in the middle of the bar, and they pretend to have not heard what I just said even though everyone’s standing unnaturally still. There’s no excitement. No cheers. They all know it’s my worst nightmare. Men freeze with glasses in their hands as they stare at me with expressions of amusement and pity.
“Congratulations!” Francois pounds my back, laughter trembling in his voice.
I send him a heated look. “I don’t fucking see what there is to celebrate. My life is basically over and I barely know this broad.”
“Don’t be such an asshole,” Johnny snaps. “A child is a gift from God—a fuckin’ gift. You better do right by this girl, Tony. I’m serious.”
I straighten myself and peer into the depths of my glass. “Yeah, yeah. I guess we have to get married. Fuck.”
The bar explodes into cheers, and Francois flings an arm around my neck. “I can’t fucking believe this. You’re getting married? Holy shit—”
Johnny gives me an approving nod. “It’s the right thing to do.”
“Yeah, well—that doesn’t mean I’m going to fucking change for her.”
The young boss beams at me, and he bumps his glass against my empty one. “Salute, Tony. I’m happy for you.”
“That makes one of us.”
My stomach clenches as he wraps an arm around my shoulders and gives me a hug.
“I want to meet this girl. We should have an engagement party this weekend.”
I look into Johnny’s smiling face. “You already know her. She’s Jack Vittorio’s daughter.”
His face goes slack as the men scream with laughter.
“He knocked up a boss’s daughter!”
“Good thing Jack is dead, eh, buddy?”
I ignore the elbows digging into my side, the hands clapping down my shoulder, the insidious laughter erupting around me and gaze into Johnny’s furious face.
“You fucking moron, Tony. You fucking dumb piece of shit.” He slams his drink on the counter and grabs my lapels, shoving me against the bar. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
I have at least fifty pounds on Johnny, but I don’t lift a finger against him. To do so would be suicide, even though it would be satisfying—so fucking satisfying.
“No one was ever going to find out.”
His face contorts with rage and the laughter dissipates from the bar. “You realize, you stupid fuck, that her ex now has a legitimate beef with us? You fucked his girl.”
“A girl who didn’t want to be his in the first place.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“She’s carrying my kid,” I say in a cold voice. “That’s all that matters. We’re getting married, and that’s that. If that asshole has a problem with it, I shove a gun up his ass.”
Murmurs of approval echo around me and then I know I’ve won.
He lets go of my jacket, still furious, and jabs a finger in my face. “I want a fucking paternity test.”
That might be hard to get.
“Johnny, it’s my fucking kid.”
“I need proof, goddamn it. Word is going to spread very quickly about this—to friends of ours in New York, and that piece of shit has been in my restaurant every day, demanding to know where his girlfriend is.”
Ah, good. He’s still here.
A smirk spreads across my face. “She’s been with me.”
He rakes his hand through his hair. “Goddamn it—crisse de tarbanak de marde de gang des cons. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” He shoves my chest against the bar again. “You have a fucking death wish?”
Maybe I just don’t fucking care, Johnny. I don’t give a fuck about you, or the family, or saving my own damn skin. I do what I want.
I shrug my shoulder as the heart in my chest beats like a steady drum.
“Bring me the fucking paternity test before he asks for a sit-down.”
“Whatever.”
I slide from the stool, ignoring the grins thrown my way as I walk out of the bar. It’s bad to piss off the boss. I know that, but I can’t bring myself to care. Although I’d never admit it, there’s no loyalty in my chest for Johnny. The only person in my life who matters is my mother. She loves me even though I’ve put her through so much shit. She’s the only person I live for.
A flash of emotion chips through and the blood leaves my face.
What the fuck are you doing? You’re going to get killed—this is fucking crazy, and your ma will never forgive you. Ever.
Fifty grand.
With that kind of money, I’ll be able to make sure arrangements for my mother are taken care of. She’ll never want for anything. Then it’s just a matter of waiting.
Waiting to die.
That’s how all our stories end in this life. Fucking pointless, isn’t it? My dad died young and I will, too, because I was a moron and followed in his footsteps.
C’est la vie?
Resentment boils in my chest as I cross the street and head back to my apartment. I don’t like thinking about this shit. I have everything I want, and yet nothing satisfies me. There’s nothing deep going on inside me. Just spades of boredom and restlessness. Emptiness.
I’ve felt like
this for a long time.
The urge to stride into Tommy’s bar and find someone else to fuck flames inside me for a moment and then quickly dissipates. Why go to the bar when I have a real piece of ass waiting for me at home? Thinking of her brings a smile to my face. Yeah, that whole “no sex” deal we made lasted a grand total of twelve minutes. Who would have thought that Jack’s daughter would’ve been such a great lay? I mean, holy shit. The girl gets me hard every morning. Beyond that, it’s exciting. It’s fucking wrong. I could get my brains blown out just for touching her.
Yeah, it’s fucked up.
Energy ramps inside my chest as I climb the stairs to my apartment, unlocking the door. A rich smell from the kitchen makes my mouth water, and I hang my coat before walking toward it. Elena sits at the table and smiles at me.
“Hey.”
My chest tightens as I smile back to her, and I glance at the pot on the stove.
“What’s that?”
“Dinner.”
Sometimes I wonder if she’s taking this role too seriously. “We’re roommates, hon. You don’t have to cook me dinner.”
A complicated look falls on her face. “I know… It’s just—there’s not much else for me to do. Why not?”
I shrug at her and sit down across the table from her. “I told Johnny that I knocked you up. He wasn’t very happy about it.”
On the table, her hands shake and she nervously smoothes her hair. “He’ll know—won’t he? He’ll come after you. I still get messages from him every day.”
“Let him try.”
“W-what if you’re not here and he—”
I reach forward and grasp her hand, bringing it to my lips. The last of her bruises only just healed, and I’m glad. A sick feeling filled my stomach every time I saw them splayed over her perfect skin. Fucking jackass.
Hitman's Bride (Bad Boy Empire) Page 31
