by Rowena
He kicks the door closed behind him and pulls me to him again in one smooth motion, crashing his lips down on mine.
I accept his rough kiss gratefully, his arm around me the most delicious sensation since seeing him outside my door, rivaled only by his passionate kiss.
I should probably be alarmed by the many ways he splits me open, leaving me bare and vulnerable, but I’m not. I’m riding this happy train as long as I can.
“You want to move in together?” he says once we separate our lips. His eyes dart around my unit. “Not here, though. Maybe somewhere new for both of us.”
“Yes!” I say. “I’ll put in the thirty-day notice asap.”
“Not that this isn’t okay,” he says unconvincingly. “In fact, maybe check out my condo—see if you’re okay with just moving in there…”
“Yeah sure,” I say, rushing him along because there’s one thing I want more than anything right now. Blah, blah, blah, new place, cohabitation—I get it.
I start working on his pants.
“Whoah there, Eager beaver!”
“Exactly,” I say, succeeding in unbuttoning and unzipping.
He throws his head back and laughs, but then he helps me, shedding his bottoms in no time.
While he continues working on himself, I pull my top off, and before I can wriggle out of my bottoms, he has swept me off my feet and is carrying me toward my bedroom.
He deposits me on the bed, and I work on kicking off my jeans while he glances around the room, his eyes quickly returning to me.
Then he hovers over me, bringing his hand to the heated mound between my legs, his fingertips tracing my lips before teasing my entrance, rubbing and sliding all around it before slipping part of a finger inside.
He continues fingering me, causing me to moan lightly in response to his teasing touch while I watch his cock continue to expand.
When he starts fucking me more vigorously with his finger, I can focus on nothing but my need for more.
His finger withdraws from me, slick with my juices, and before I can protest its absence, he grabs me and flips me, positioning me so that I’m bending over the bed, my ass in the air.
I’ve been prepped for a doggy style pounding.
The smooth head of his cock has taken up where his finger left off, teasing my entrance with the suggestion of entry as he rubs himself on my slick, delicate skin.
My moans get louder, more desperate as he plays with me, flesh on heated flesh.
Just when I think I can’t take it much longer without begging him to just jam his meat inside me, he slams his thick, stiff cock into me, sliding deep until his pelvis is flush with my butt cheeks.
He grabs my ass in his large hands to leverage me before pulling out a bit and slamming back in, bringing my ass cheeks to him over and over as his swinging balls manage to tease my nerve-filled clit.
He rides me hard and fast, and at some point, he bends his torso to lean over me, bringing our bodies closer as he rests his chest and stomach on my back.
He catches my clit by surprise as his hand reaches over and plays with it until I unravel, my cunt clamping down on his relentless dick in my orgasm, which seems to trigger his.
He keeps thrusting hard as he comes inside me, and I’m soon leaking with both our juices.
“You could be pregnant,” Dustin says once we flop onto my bed.
“I’ve thought about that,” I say exhaustedly.
“And?”
“And if it’s fine with you, Mister, I welcome the possibility wholeheartedly.”
His resulting smile melts my heart.
He looks as happy and satisfied as I feel.
“How did your parents take...everything?” he asks.
“Better than expected. And something tells me a grandchild will probably improve their attitude more.”
“Even if it’s from my degenerate genes?”
“Nothing degenerate about you,” I say, my voice thickened with emotion. “I’m lucky to breed with you—I mean look at you.”
“Look at you,” he says quickly. “Besides, I’m not the pauper your family thinks.”
“Oh?”
“I think you and yours would be pleasantly surprised. But, of course, all that’s totally irrelevant, right?”
He grins at me and I grin back.
I do want to ask details but fine, I’ll wait.
He’s right, after all—what matters most is that...
“I love you,” I say out loud, not meaning to, but not regretting it.
“Boy, do I love you,” he says to me, pulling me closer and planting a kiss on my forehead. “I’ve probably loved you since I was nine years old. You got torn away from me then, and I let you run away years later, but now here you are, right back at my side—where you should be.”
“All because some freakazoid took an interest in us. What are the chances, huh?”
“Indeed. But I’m done thinking about that guy. For now.”
We fall silent for a moment, and I bask in the warmth and love sitting heavy in the room.
My mind briefly flashes across Brick.
You know, he and I could actually end up being real friends—I might just have to chase him away from Dustin every now and then.
The thought makes me have to suppress a giggle.
“What?” Dustin asks, feeling my body’s slight movement, I guess.
“I was just...Brick crossed my mind. I hope everything turns out well for him. I was actually thinking we could be friends, and then I remembered his reaction to you.”
“Don’t remind me,” he says with a chuckle. “As long as he can control himself, I don’t mind you two staying connected. He and I wouldn’t get along that way, but I certainly trust you with him—even though he made you blow him without reciprocation…”
“Ugh. Thanks for reminding me.”
“What? You don’t think you and your gay ex can be BFFs anymore?” he says with mock surprise.
“Maybe someday, when everything that happened over the past week is less fresh. Well, maybe not everything—I’d do anything to keep vivid certain parts with you.”
“Well, I’ll just have to keep jogging your memory—while we make a shit-ton of new ones.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
Another silent but sweet moment passes.
“I know you were a virgin just a week ago, but considering what we’ve been through, I figure you might be open to trying all sorts of new things,” he says in a different voice.
“You bet your sweet ass. I’m up for just about anything when it comes to you, Dustin.”
“Good, because it involves your sweet ass and losing another type of virginity. But not so soon—perhaps after we’ve christened our new place in a few weeks, or after your first ultrasound. Or maybe not until the anniversary of our kidnapping!”
I chuckle and shove him lightly with my elbow.
Then I look up at him, gazing into his dark, loving eyes.
“I’m going to claim you in so many ways, you won’t be able to keep your vision straight.”
“Deal,” I say with an indulgent grin.
His arms close around me and I suddenly find myself on top of him as he kisses me possessively.
Damn, he’s fast. And strong!
It registers that his cock is growing against my belly as he probes my mouth, his tongue flickering and tickling, lips pulling at mine.
His hard cock poking my belly has me going again, and without him acknowledging what’s been happening, as if he only meant to kiss me, I start pulling away and shift downward so that my bare pussy is on top of his rod, my clit on his shaft.
We’re both ready for another round—his dick fully erect, my pussy starting to beg.
I grab his cock and shift my body so that I can sit on it to push it inside me, spreading my legs over it.
I aim the perfect mushroom tip at my wet hole and then I sink down on his stiff meat, swallowing his long, juicy cock until it is fully seated inside me.<
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After savoring the feel of being filled once more, this time from a different position and at a different angle, I lift myself off his dick a little then sink back down.
I try out the feel of riding him, shifting until I find a position that works for me while he waits patiently.
I keep my eyes on where are bodies are joined the whole time, fascinated and turned on by the image—his thick cock buried between my legs, the way my naked pussy lips look above it.
I lift and slide, and when I think I’ve got it, I glance happily at him and see that his handsome face has settled into a lopsided grin.
“You really are an eager beaver today, aren’t you?” he says gently, his voice infused with an adoration that sends a rush of warmth through me.
“We’ve wasted enough time,” I say as I continue to slide up and down his cock, riding him in a way that really hits the spot, the inside and outside of my pussy getting massaged deliciously.
At this rate, it won’t be long before I’m coming all over his fat dick.
“Agreed,” he says, letting me go at my own pace a bit longer before grabbing my ass cheeks and bringing my wet cunt down on him harder, slamming into me from below.
Eventually, he lets me find my rhythm again and I ride him until my body contracts in orgasm, clamping down on his own pulsing cock, my ass cheeks beginning to burn with my final clench as I wait for my senses to fully return from my climax.
I couldn’t be more grateful for the past week—for getting my eyes, amongst other things, opened.
With Dustin is where I belong, and with his cum pumping into me once again, I feel certain things will only get wilder and better.
Thanks for reading! Check out Rowena’s Amazon Author page for more hot stories!
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UP NEXT: an excerpt from A New Don, a bad boy mafia romance novel.
SYNOPSIS: A deadly legacy. A forbidden attraction.
DONATELLO - Since I became head of the family, things haven’t been the same. I want to limit bloodshed and take things in a different direction, but with an enemy like Emilio Baldini, that might just be impossible. Saving a prisoner of Emilio’s from certain death probably won't exactly endear me to him, either…
ISABELLA - Bound, gagged, and kidnapped. Then, finally, saved by a man I have only heard of—Donnie Soriano. But Donnie must never find out I’m Emilio Baldini’s daughter. If he does, he’ll probably throw me out on the street—a fate worse than death, as my feelings for the young Don are blossoming into something deep and real. And so is the new life in my belly…Get it here or keep reading for a sample!
Excerpt
A New Don
CHAPTER ONE: DONNIE
The salt air brings back loaded memories.
In the distance, a buoy rocks on the waves.
Nostalgia tinges my thoughts, but I’ve never had use for nostalgia. The past is to be learned from, not yearned for.
Where I’m standing is basically where my father, Antonio, got his start—running muscle on the docks then working his way up until he owned them, on paper or not.
No one questioned him.
Antonio Soriano ran the lower east side. No one did anything that he didn’t get a piece of.
He’d often bring me to this warehouse when I was just a kid. He’d tell me the stories about how he started, how he fought his way into power.
My father was a ruthless man but also smart; brawn alone won’t get you by in this world. But it will certainly take you out.
Now that he’s gone, it’s mine—all of it, if I can hold on to it. That’s what tonight is all about; that’s what brings me back here.
“Donnie,” Francesca says crisply. “It’s clear.”
“Okay, let’s go,” I say.
My driver, Alex, gets out and opens the door.
I climb out and Francesca steps out behind me.
As I walk into the warehouse, she stays one step to my left.
I nod to the two men guarding the door as I approach.
“Simon, Jerry,” I say as Simon opens the door for me.
“Mr. Soriano,” they both say, nodding.
Know your men—one of my father’s rules. A good one.
Tonight, the warehouse is empty.
A single light is on in the middle, casting a pool that pushes back the shadows.
A table with two chairs sits in the center of the light.
I take one of the chairs and wait.
Tonight will be historic, one way or another.
If my father was here… I don’t know what he would do.
No matter how smart he was, he could never bring that to bear against the man I’m sitting down with tonight: Emilio Baldini, Don of the Baldini family. My father’s rival.
No two men have ever hated each other more.
Their rivalry and hatred was as deep and true as any throughout history, and they were rivals to the bitter end.
Tonight, I will offer Emilio peace—an end to a long trail of blood.
War between our families profits no one.
I’m moving my family in a new direction, one which doesn’t rely on the old ways.
This warehouse serves no purpose for me any longer, and since it lies at the center of the hatred between our families, I hope it will be valuable enough for him to accept my offer.
The door creaks as it opens.
Francesca’s hand grips the gun under her jacket.
Two burly men enter and spread to either side then walk the perimeter.
Francesca and I watch them silently.
Once they’re satisfied we’re alone, they approach the two of us.
I stand and let them pat me down.
I’m unarmed and Francesca has her one gun, which was our agreement.
One of them pulls a cell, sends a text, then the two of them step back to stand just outside the pool of light.
A few minutes later, the door opens and Emilio Baldini walks in.
Emilio is old, well into his seventies. His swarthy skin is wrinkled, his thin hair is slicked back to his head, his rheumy eyes shift side to side as he walks over to the table.
He stops just inside the light, adjusting his tailored suit.
“Little Donnie,” he wheezes, his eyes narrowing.
I stand and hold my hand out to him, ignoring the insult in his words. Words like that cost me nothing.
He stares at my hand before meeting my eyes.
Ignoring my outstretched hand, he goes to the chair opposite mine.
“Your father killed my brother, right there,” he says, pointing to a spot some twenty yards distant. “My cousin was there, three more of my boys were with them.”
He doesn’t sit as he talks and points.
If nothing else, he’s blunt. And stuck in the past.
What he’s referring to happened thirty years ago.
The Dock Side Massacre, the papers called it; nine men gunned down execution style. The move that wrested control of the docks from the Baldini family and solidified my father in his position as a Don. A move that has since been paid for tenfold over in gallons of blood.
All my childhood friends died in the war between our families. There hasn’t been a lasting peace since that night.
A year—maybe two—would pass, then something would happen and the blood would flow.
It’s bad business. Murder attracts too much attention.
I want this peace.
I never dreamed it would be me sitting here with this man.
“The past weighs heavy,” I say, taking my seat again. “We can learn from it or we can be the victim of it.”
“Victim, huh?” he snorts. “Fancy words, boy. A man never forgets his debts. He doesn’t forget where he came from, either.”
“Of course,” I say. “And I mean no disrespect.”
Boy. The word makes
me bristle and I have to reign in my reaction.
Emilio might not respect me, but I can’t let him get under my skin; tonight is too important.
“Respect,” he spits. “What does your generation know of respect?”
I smile but don’t take the bait.
“Well, what is this about, Donnie?” he asks, sounding irritated.
“How many men have you lost in the past year?” I reply.
“What, you think I’m going to discuss this with you?”
“Yes,” I say firmly.
“And why would I talk to you of such a thing, Donnie?”
He inflects my name, emphasizing the ‘don’ to mock me.
“Because it’s time, Don Baldini,” I answer.
“Time for what? Your men are on the ropes,” he says.
“Perhaps,” I say. “Perhaps not. How many times, over all these years, have you thought that before?”
“Bah, that was with your father. A snake in the grass. Truio, call the car around; we’re done here.”
“Don, sit. Please,” I say. “Perhaps a drink? Let us talk as men.”
“Then bring me a man to deal with,” he says and the two men with him struggle to suppress their laughter while I work to control my reaction again.
Francesca shifts behind me. She’s ready. A signal is all it would take. Any sign from me and the three men before me would be dead.
As a woman, she’s often underestimated, to the regret of those who go against her. She has proven herself in the field more than a few times.
I shake my head—not for Emilio, though I’m sure he thinks so—but to keep her from losing her temper.
We will remain civil.
Emilio doesn’t respect me and thinks I’m weak, fine—let him underestimate me.
In the meantime, I am moving this family into the future, Emilio and his adherence to the ‘old’ ways be damned.
My father built our fortune the same way that Emilio did—through gambling, prostitution, and drugs, but it’s a thug game that comes with too much scrutiny and harsh sentences.
It’s also a game of machismo with goombas mouthing off to each other and everyone a hair’s breadth from pulling a trigger.
