by Addison Jane
She pulled back, taking deep breaths while I licked my lips to savor the taste of her. “What was that for?” Emerson asked, her beautiful cheeks flushed.
“Marcos…” I said, her eyes flicking toward me. “I fucking hate him, have for a long time. You went in there and told him to go fuck himself, and not only that, but did what you could to protect me and the family, and not at one single point gave him any indication what had actually happened.”
Her mouth fell open. “Oh,” she said quietly before a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. “I did good?”
A growl started low in my throat. I turned her body around, taking her hands and placing them against the brick wall that encased the outdoor patio. Pressing my body against her back, I nuzzled at her neck with my nose, inhaling her scent—sweet, fruity, and intoxicating.
She arched her back, pressing her tight round ass against my cock, which was now straining painfully against my suit pants. Her head fell back onto my shoulder as I moved my hips, pressing myself slowly against her, teasing her about what was to come.
Running my hand up her silky smooth legs, I tucked my fingers inside her panties and slowly edged them down her legs until they dropped to the floor. She tiptoed out of them, flicking them to the side. Her fingers gripped tightly to the brick, her short, sharp breaths changing in speed as I moved my hands over her body, letting me know which parts were more sensitive than others.
One of my arms went around her chest, my hand slipping inside the cup of her dress and sliding across her peaked nipple. She gasped, pressing her ass back even further.
With my other hand, I quickly flicked open my pants and let them drop to my feet, stepping out of one leg to give me more opportunity to move. Then I tugged her dress up around her waist. I stepped to the side, still holding her in place, just to admire the perfectly round globes of her ass which were begging for me to take my hand to them.
One ass slap and her body jerked forward, but I didn’t allow her to escape.
Another sharp slap and this time, a soft moan fell from her lips telling me everything I needed to know.
I pressed myself against her again, my cock slipping in between her two cheeks.
“Hurry up, damn it,” she cursed, looking over her shoulder at me with fire and lust in her eyes. “Please.”
“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you,” I taunted, holding my body completely still.
“Hurry—”
“No, the second part.”
She paused for a moment, that defiant part of her wanting to tell me to leap off the side of this building rather than beg me to take control of her body.
She groaned, a shiver running down her spine as my breath tickled the back of her neck. “Please,” she relented finally, succumbing to my demands.
I pushed my cock down, and she spread her legs to accommodate me. Stroking it through her folds once, then twice, her body shuddered with each pass.
“One more time,” I told her with a soft chuckle.
“Please,” she hissed impatiently.
With that, I lined up and thrust straight inside her. It wasn’t slow, it wasn’t gentle, and I knew it would give her exactly what her body was screaming out for.
“Shit!” she cried out, throwing her head back as I settled inside her for a few seconds before pulling back out and repeating the process.
Her moans of pleasure were music to my ears as I pounded inside her, the rise and fall of her breath becoming harsher with every powerful thrust. She leaned forward, pressing her ass out and I unwrapped my arm from around her, gripping her hips with both hands.
“Angelo, more,” she moaned, pushing herself back onto my cock in a desperate search for her release. “More!”
I lifted my hand from her deliciously round ass, sliding it up her back, smirking as goosebumps appeared across her skin. At the nape of her neck, I threaded my fingers through the depths of her hair. When I had enough in my fist, I yanked it hard, as I plowed forward with my hips and she cried out in ecstasy.
“This what you wanted?” I growled through gritted teeth, holding back my own orgasm.
Her skin was flushed a delightful shade of pink.
I lifted my hand, enjoying the sting that came as I slapped it across her left cheek, causing her pussy to tighten.
She was so close, I could feel it.
I felt alive having a woman as strong as Emerson, ready to submit to me and give me her body. It heightened the excitement and need to bring her what she needed. Not every woman would. They didn’t all want a man to take complete control, but to me, that showed faith in me as a man.
Whether it be trusting me to make them feel pleasure so intense that they fear their heart might stop beating, or whether it be trusting me to protect them and keep them safe. I wanted a woman who was strong and independent in herself, but also smart enough to know I was fucking king.
The warm body in my hands began to shudder and Emerson’s back arched and shook as she rode out her orgasm, crying out my name in the midst of pleasure and satisfaction, while she desperately gripped the wall in front of her so she wouldn’t fall.
I released the grip I had on her hair, digging my fingers into her hips and using the tight spasms of her pussy to milk my cock until I roared out my own release.
The silent night air was filled with our breaths, both of our lungs screaming for air as we rode our wave to the shore.
I pulled her body back against mine, brushing my lips over her shoulder while my cock still twitched inside her. “Sorry, that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind on my way over here.”
A small giggle left her, and she turned her head, her lips searching for mine. I laid them on hers, a soft short kiss that in some ways meant more than a kiss that was more passionate and sexual. It was the kiss of lovers, and I found I didn’t really mind that.
“Sometimes hard and fast is better than long and drawn out,” she replied. “But I think you owe me some cuddle time now.”
I snorted, slipping my cock from inside her and causing her to gasp. She clenched her legs together and turned to glare at me over her shoulder. “Anyone ever tell you men like me don’t cuddle?” While it was only partially true, I bent and hooked my arm under her knees and lifted her up, cradling her bridal style against my body as I shuffled uncomfortably toward the outdoor sofa.
As I laid down, and she moved her body, laying right on top of me and placing her head against my chest. “I was joking, but I’ll take whatever I can get.” She chuckled, drawing with her fingers lazily across my chest.
I knew she was joking, but I felt like I owed her this much at least. I wanted to care for her, show her that she was a woman who a man wanted to cherish, and that I should be the one doing exactly that. Not just her body, but her mind, her soul, and her dreams.
I always thought that finding a woman who’d put me first before themselves, like Emerson had done at the police station, would be the hardest thing I would ever do. Yet, here she was, strong and independent, flourishing with this new found strength and atmosphere, looking Marcos in the eye today and not letting a single thing slip.
Even after he threatened her, and made it sound like the family would drop her in a second because she didn’t carry the DePalma name. She might not carry the name, but she carried the blood. That was becoming more and more obvious, and I was struggling to stay away.
His hands gripped my face, the both of us breathing heavily, our eyes connected together in some kind of trance.
I couldn’t look away.
This man in front of me had stolen a piece of my soul. The darkness swirled around him like a hurricane, pulling me deeper and deeper into its deadly embrace. There was nothing I could do but let it sweep me away.
“I need every chance possible to explore this beautiful body,” he drawled. The rich tone of his voice reminded me of melted chocolate, smooth and creamy. I could almost taste it on my tongue.
Angelo owned my soul, there was no doubt in my m
ind. He pushed me to my limits, dragged emotions from the depths of my body and mind, and forced me to face them.
Our bodies were intertwined together on the outdoor sofa, my dress skewed up around my waist and his suit pants still hanging from one leg. The rush of passion between us being too much for either of us to bother wasting unnecessary time with clothing.
“I want to know about you,” I told him, staring directly into his chocolate brown eyes, hoping he wouldn’t shut me out.
He reached up and dragged the soft knitted blanket off the back of the sofa and draped it over both of our bodies.
“What do you want to know?” he asked, his voice open and not cut off like I’d expected him to be.
I licked my lips, drawing the attention of his eyes which instantly began to blaze. “I want to know about your mom.” The request came out barely above a whisper, but with the way his eyes flicked back to mine, and his brow pulled in tightly between them, I knew he’d heard me loud and clear.
I waited for a few moments, holding my breath and hoping that for once, he would let me inside his head. I wanted to know every part of this man. I needed to know what made him the person he’d become today. The man I could feel myself falling for, knowing if he chose not to catch me, that the pain may be just too much to survive.
His body moved, jostling me. My gut tightened, and I prepared for him to get up and walk away, leaving me there alone and confused.
“I don’t remember a lot about her, to be honest,” he answered finally, his voice raspy. He pulled my body a little closer, his fingers brushing back and forth across my hip. “She was beautiful, kind, quiet. She had long black hair that was so thick, yet she always let it hang wildly around her face.” His glanced up to the ceiling. “We didn’t go out much. She never had friends around. But we did spend a lot of time together, just the two of us, reading books and coloring pictures.” I caught a glimpse of a smile begin to form. “We would play hide and seek within this little two bedroom unit. I remember always thinking it was this fun game and I was so good at it.”
His eyes glazed over, moving away from my face to stare at the dark night sky behind me. “It wasn’t until I got older that we only played when my dad was due home.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “He was always the most angry when he arrived home from work. We weren’t actually playing, she was trying to hide me so he couldn’t take it out on me.”
My head shook back and forth unconsciously like I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, like I couldn’t imagine how this man in front of me, so strong, so fierce, was ever so completely broken.
“It didn’t make sense to me when I was a kid, but it all does now.” He paused, shaking his head before allowing his gaze to return to me, this time it was darker, lit with anger. “My father wouldn’t allow her to go anywhere without him, he basically kept the both of us locked up so she couldn’t leave. She was a prisoner, and she felt like there was no escape.”
My heart thumped away in my chest, with each thud there was a growing ache like I could feel his despair inside me, tearing me up. Lifting my hand, I grazed his bristled jaw with the back of my fingers, the feeling sending tingles through my body.
“One night, she’d had enough, and my father was drunk,” Angelo continued, pressing his face against my hand as if it gave him courage. “He passed out on the couch, and my mom decided that was the moment. She grabbed a bag she’d packed and stashed in my closet for as long as I could remember. Mom picked me up out of bed and carried me to the front door. We made it probably four steps down the path before he shot her in the back, a bullet for every step she took out of his house.” He said the last part with a different voice, as though it was the words of someone else.
I took a long deep breath through my nose, holding it in my lungs for as long as possible until they began to burn. When I finally released it, a sad whimper followed. “Angelo…” I couldn’t find the words I needed in order to express how much his story hurt me.
He’d lost the one person in his life who had always tried to be there for him, his safety net. His mom was no doubt going through hell, yet, Angelo still seemed to have these fond memories of her and his life when she was around.
Maybe the two of us were more alike than I’d first thought.
We’d both felt love, but had also been smothered and forced into a life that we didn’t want.
I knew my parents loved me, I knew they wanted me to be successful and to have a future. They thought what they were doing was for the best.
Maybe they were right.
Maybe if they hadn’t pushed me to learn and use my mind, then I would have been simply a struggling dancer, with no work and nothing to put beside my name.
That could still happen.
But at this point, I was willing to take the risk and stand on my own two feet and say at least I tried because I was sick of sitting around wondering what if and leaving my future in the hands of others.
Without words to show Angelo just how I felt his pain in that moment, I simply pressed my lips to his. He’d let me in, even if it were only for a brief moment, and it told me what I needed to know—that I wasn’t the only one feeling this way.
A soft click filled the night air, and Angelo instantly pulled back. “Fuck,” he hissed before rolling us off the sofa. My body hit the ground with a heavy thump, and the air was forced from my lungs. Angelo landed on top of me, smothering me even more and making me fight harder to catch my breath.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
What the hell is that?
The sound that followed wasn’t loud or ear piercing, but more like a popping sound and a rush of air.
That was the last thing I heard before the whole world went to complete and utter hell.
Windows shattered into tiny pieces, showering us with glass and debris. I screamed, the sound muffled against Angelo’s chest as he tried to shelter me, his body entirely covering mine. Things wooshed over the top of us, they sounded like bullets skimming through the air, but without the loud bang of a gun.
“I heard you’ve been looking for me!” a familiar voice crowed, followed by a loud thump of feet landing on the concrete balcony. I could tell he wasn’t far away from us, but Angelo didn’t reply, he simply moved his hand, reaching up underneath the outdoor coffee table, patting around until he found what he was searching for.
The thud, thud, thud, of more feet landing on the balcony, had my heart feeling like it was going to leap out of my chest.
Where are they coming from?
Angelo silently pulled a 9mm from underneath the table, flicking off the safety with his thumb. He moved, holding his body up above me, his forehead resting against mine. “I want you to run,” he whispered, staring directly into my eyes.
“The great Angelo Moretti… hiding?” Tobia taunted.
Angelo’s lips pursed at the insult, and I shook my head back and forth quickly.
There was no way in fucking hell I was leaving him here with Tobia, the fucking crazy.
Angelo pulled back. I scrambled to get a hold on his body, to pull him back down to safety, but with his shirt missing and his pants down around his ankle, I failed to grasp anything.
Changing tactics, I pulled on my dress, slipping it down over my naked bottom and up over my breasts, quickly slipping my arms through the straps as I watched Angelo reveal his body to our intruders.
He tucked his legs into his pants and pulled them up with him as he stood to full height. His gun hung at his side, hidden by the tall back of the outdoor sofa that had protect us.
“A nail bomb,” Angelo commented, facing them head on as I crouched down beside him. “Inventive.”
A nail bomb?
That had been what was flying over our heads just moments earlier?
I looked over at the large pillars that now stood lonely between shattered glass windows, a sprinkling of glittering silver laying at the foot.
That could have killed us.
We were lucky t
hat Angelo’s reflexes were so quick, but the problem was, we weren’t quite out of the woods yet.
Death was knocking, and it was fucking loud.
Angelo tried to press his free hand on my shoulder as I found my footing. He didn’t want me exposed, he wanted me to run and leave him to deal with God knows what these guys would do to him.
But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t walk away from this man who had breathed so much life into me, just to watch him be taken down by the same man who had crushed me only weeks earlier.
“Come on, Emerson,” Tobia finally said, knowing I was hiding. “I’ve been waiting a long time to see your pretty face again.”
I took a deep breath, forcing my body to stand, fighting the urge to cower in this man’s presence like I had before. Tobia had seen me at my weakest moment and he’d laughed as I’d vomited all over the bedroom floor in fear. He’d scarred me for life in more ways than one.
And if I was going to die tonight, then I was going to do it with my chin held high and two middle fingers in the air, because seeing how he had destroyed me wasn’t something he was going to have the pleasure of.
My heart was racing as I met him eye to eye for the second time, the black depths the same sickening dark holes I remembered. The eyes of a psychopath.
His face lit up, and he rubbed his hands together. “Aren’t you two glad I could bring you together?” He grinned, holding his arms out wide like he was the king of the fucking world, while his gun sparkled in the light illuminating from the apartment.
A chill ran up my spine and I stood a little taller.
Five men, including Tobia stood opposite us. One of them I recognized as the man with the ginger beard from that night. He stood emotionless, a heavy metal baseball bat hanging at his side. The other three men beside Tobia carried other weapons, one a sledgehammer, another a wrench, and the last had a heavy chain wrapped around his fist which was swinging back and forth.
