Frivolous: A DARK MAFIA AGE-GAP ROMANCE

by Veronica Lancet

  "There you go sunshine. Wasn't so hard, was it?" I drawl, visions of her saying please to something entirely different assaulting me.

  Fuck, but I feel myself growing hard just from that.

  "Well?" She taps her foot. "What are you waiting for?"

  I shake my head at her, starting towards the target to get her arrows. I guess I can't expect her to change too fast. I'm still the most hated person in her life.

  I reach the target, and I start removing her arrows, truly impressed to see she'd hit center every time. But just as I'm about to turn around, I feel an arrowhead penetrate my shoulder from the front, tearing through muscle.

  "Fuck," I curse out, momentarily blinded by the pain. "That brat..." I grit my teeth, taking a deep breath to ground myself.

  Turning back, I see her bow at her feet, her arms crossed over her chest as she gloats at my pain.

  I don't think anymore as I stalk towards her, intent on showing her just how wrong she is to mess with me like this.

  When I'm only a few feet away from her, I raise my hand, gripping the shaft of the arrow and breaking it close to my skin.

  She gasps when she sees me fling the wooden piece to the ground, her eyes snapping to mine. Horror crosses her features as she realizes that she's in much deeper waters than she thought.

  Taking a step back, her eyes are still on mine as she tries to keep her bravado intact, the slow tremble of her hands giving her away though.

  "You're really brave from a distance, aren't you?" I ask as I continue to walk towards her, all the while she keeps on moving back.

  "It was a mistake," she mumbles when she sees me gain ground on her.

  "A mistake?" I repeat, almost amused at the flimsy excuse.

  "Yes. I didn't mean to. I..." As she nears the wall of a building, she looks left and right for a place to run and hide, but that ship's sailed.

  She makes a dash to the right, but I'm faster as I cage her in, stretching my arms and placing my palms on the wall, on either side of her head.

  "What was your plan, Gianna? Kill me?" I drawl, loving the way her mask is quickly slipping from her.

  Until now she's been great at keeping the pretense that I don't scare her, but as she looks into my eyes and sees the violence simmering inside, she's smart enough to realize she should be afraid.

  "But that's not right, is it?" I continue, bringing my hand to my wound as it's already leaking blood. Swiping some of the red liquid with my fingers, I bring it in front of my face, staring at it. "Someone with your skill wouldn't miss it if they wanted me dead. No..." I tsk at her. "You wanted me out of commission, didn't you?"

  She blinks rapidly, still looking around for a way out.

  "Gianna, Gianna," I lean into her, bringing my fingers to her face and smearing some of my blood on her pristine skin. "You should have said so if you wanted war. It's something I'm..." I trail off as I see her teeth peek through as they bite on her lower lip, "an expert on."

  "It was a mistake," she continues, shaking her head.

  "You made me mad, Gianna. Very mad," I tell her in a serious tone, enjoying seeing her squirm. God, but it's only making me harder, in spite of the pain in my shoulder.

  Funny, I took a shot in my left shoulder saving her at the jewelry store, and now I took an arrow to my right shoulder because of her spoiled girl tantrums.

  Because I see exactly why she did it. She wants me replaced as soon as possible. And I know why too.

  "I'm... sorry," she whispers, and I can't help the way my brows shoot up in surprise at those words.

  Damn, but she must be terrified if she's resorting to the magic words.

  "I'm not a very nice man when I'm mad. But you already know that, don't you, sunshine?"

  "I..." she raises her eyes to meet mine, her mouth open on a word that won't come out.

  Slowly, I bring my bloodied fingers down her cheek and to her neck, smearing myself on her perfect skin. When I reach her pulse, I wrap my hand around her pretty neck, giving it a quick squeeze.

  Her eyes widen, and she looks at me questioningly.

  "You're scared," I state, and she blinks, her eyes pressed together as she inhales like she's truly caught. "But you're not scared of what I'll do to you," I chuckle, my voice low, my breath brushing against her skin. "You're scared of liking it."

  Her eyes snap open, those gorgeous golden irises raging at me.

  "Yes, that's just it. You keep on lying to yourself." I trail the back of my knuckles down her front, slowly caressing her breasts. The shudder that goes through her body is unmistakable, the way her skin flushes, her tongue sneaking out to wet her lips. "You think you hate me," I continue, my ears attuned to the small shifts in her breathing, "but you don't. Not really. You just hate yourself for wanting me." I say confidently.

  Her eyes widen in shock, and she shakes her head slowly at me.

  "You know it's true. You want me to fuck you. You may not like me, but I bet your pussy's already wet from having my hands on you. Ain't that right?" I smirk, my hand going lower and hovering on top of her mound.

  Her breath hitches, her back arching slightly, her head angled in my direction as she stares at me with confusion in her eyes.

  "You like having my rough, peasant hands on your body, don't you sunshine? Just like you loved having my cock in your mouth, fucking your throat and coming all over your face. Having my mutt cum in your pretty mouth as you swallow every bit."

  She's not even hiding her reactions anymore, her pupils already engulfing her irises and turning her eyes into black, bottomless pits. Her slight cleavage allows me to see a flush creeping up from her chest and towards her neck, slowly marring her cheeks with a red tinge that makes her look even more fuckable.

  "And I bet you touched yourself, imagining your soft, dainty fingers are coarse, calloused ones that scratch and give both pleasure and pain," I continue to rile her, enjoying the way her body reacts to my words. "And I would. I'd slide my thick fingers between your wet lips, searching for that sweet little hole you have hidden between your legs. And I'd slowly dip them in," she gasps, her head thrown back as she closes her eyes, biting her lip. "I'd stretch and fill you, sunshine. I'd bring you to the brink but I wouldn't give you any satisfaction. Not until you beg me."

  Fuck, but my cock is already leaking in my pants, my words conjuring images of her spread out and at my mercy.

  "Stop," she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper.

  "What was that?" A smile pulls at my lips at her capitulation.

  "Please... stop," she repeats, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to regulate her breaths.

  I bring my hand back to her neck, tipping her chin up with my thumb so she's looking directly at me. Lowering my head, I tease her with my mouth, not touching, but almost touching.

  I blow hot air on her lips, the urge to kiss her almost unbearable. But I can't. Not yet. Not until she comes to me.

  "I could fuck you right now, sunshine. I could fuck you and you wouldn't say no. Why," I pause, my tone amused, "you'd probably beg me to."

  The moment the words are out of my mouth, though, the spell is broken as she jams her hand into my arm, right where the arrow head is lodged into my skin.

  It takes everything in me not to wince in pain, but I don't want her to give her any satisfaction. Because she has to realize that none of her pranks will work.

  I'm here to stay. And eventually, she will be mine.

  "You're an asshole," she spits at me when I release her.

  "Good on you to notice," I roll my eyes at her. She's going on the defensive because she knows I hit a sore spot with my words.

  And I'm sure I could have fucked her and she would have never protested a thing. She would have welcomed me into her body, might have even ripped at her clothes to get her pussy ready and open for me to plunge into.

  But it would have been a mistake. Though my cock weeps at the missed opportunity, I need to approach this with my other head.

  I need to
plan this thoroughly.

  "I should have aimed for your heart," Gianna mutters under her breath as I'm admitted to the emergency room.

  "You would have, wouldn't you?" I raise an eyebrow at her as I take a seat on a bed.

  She looks away, but not before I see a steely determination in her eyes.

  She would have. If she thought I was an actual danger to her, she would have killed me. And I don't know why the notion that she would so readily take a human life shifts something in me.

  Gianna is unlike any of the women I've ever associated with. The ones in my family are demure, well-behaved and sweet. They don't swear, smoke, or drink alcohol; much less engage in the outrageous behavior I've come to expect from her. But all scandalous things aside, there's something else too. There's a strength besides her bitchy façade, but there's also a weakness—a vulnerability that only makes me more intrigued by her.

  Certainly, at first glance she's just a spoiled high society girl enjoying the luxury of life all the while snubbing those who are lower than her.

  But the more time I spend in her presence, the more I realize that her mean front might just be a defense mechanism. The question remains, though. Defense against what?

  A doctor and a nurse follow suit, and they cut the shirt from my body, quickly assessing the wound and applying some anesthetic before carefully removing the arrow.

  Arms crossed over her chest, Gianna tries her best to seem disinterested. A smile pulls at my lips as I see her gaze stray to me every now and then, curiosity written all over her features. But more than anything, I see the way her eyes widen when my shirt is thrown to the side. This time she can't hide the interest as she peruses my chest.

  Even riddled with a multitude of scars, both from my time in prison and before, I know she likes what she sees. I've kept fit my entire life, but for the past five years I've really dedicated myself to building up muscles so I could take out every inmate that was out for my head.

  And as I note the slight blush that stains her pale skin, I know she's anything but indifferent.

  "It doesn't hurt, does it?" A voice asks, and I turn my head, noting that the nurse is trying to engage me in conversation.

  "No," I grunt before returning my attention to Gianna.

  To my surprise, I see a flash of anger cross her features as she stares at the nurse and her proximity to me.

  I'll be damned.

  My lip twitches, and I decide to play a little with her.

  And as the doctor leaves, instructing the nurse to dress my wound, I have the perfect opportunity to do so.

  "The doctor said I shouldn't strain myself. For how long?" I ask the nurse, still watching Gianna from the corner of my eye.

  "At least a week. You should avoid lifting heavy things, or..." she purses her lips, momentarily scanning Gianna's form, "do other things," she eventually says.

  Ah, but she is flirting with me. And Gianna notes that as well, immediately stiffening at her words.

  "Thank you," I nod to her as she adds the finishing touches to my wound, realizing it's best if I don't give her any false hope—for all my desire to rile up Gianna.

  "You'll need to complete your discharge papers before you go," the nurse adds, standing up straight. Addressing Gianna, she continues, "can you go grab the forms? He shouldn't move too much."

  I frown, since I don't see how walking could interfere with a shoulder wound. But before I can say anything, Gianna shakes her head at both of us, stalking off almost in anger.

  Damn, but one might say she is actually jealous.

  "Isn't she a little too young for you?" The nurse asks on a husky voice, leaning towards me as she all but thrusts her tits in my face.

  "Isn't it none of your business?" I retort, gritting my teeth in annoyance.

  But it is sobering enough to remind me of our age difference. With our back and forth, and Gianna's ability to hold her own, it's easy to forget that I'm so much older than her.

  She just finished high school and I... Well, I've certainly finished high school, but I haven't done much after that except killing, more killing, going to jail and then more killing.

  "Unbelievable," she mutters, drawing my attention to her.

  Until now, I hadn't even looked at her properly. She looks to be in her thirties, a scowl on her face as she stares me down.

  "Isn't it unethical to flirt with patients?"

  "You..." she frowns, almost scandalized that I'd be so direct.

  She continues to say something, but I tune her out when I see a new message on my phone. When she sees I'm simply ignoring her, she finally takes the hint and leaves.

  Opening the text, I realize my test results have arrived, and all are negative.

  I nod appreciatively at that, relieved it had been a scare and nothing else. Another beep sounds from the table in front of me, and as I spy a glint of metal, I realize Gianna must have forgotten her phone.

  "Damn," I whistle as I pick up her phone from the table, unable to believe my luck.

  Even more fortuitous is the fact that it's not password protected, so I'm easily able to open her messages and access her own test results.

  Negative.

  I finally release a relieved breath as I read through the entire report, pleased to see that she'd tested negative for all of them. Well, that certainly gives me some peace of mind. Especially as she won't have the chance to change them since no one but me will touch her from now on.

  Unable to resist temptation, I start going through her phone, checking all her texts first. I'm a little surprised to see there isn't a single one from guys. There are only a couple of people that text her, all female friends I'd met before from her posh circles.

  Even more intrigued, I go through her gallery, once again taken aback to see it's mostly empty. There aren't thousands of selfies as you would expect of a girl her age, especially one of her beauty and social standing. If anything, the only pictures she has saved are of animals, and some pretty sights.

  "This can't be it," I mumble as I proceed to go through her documents.

  It makes no sense that someone who thrives off attention and has a massive social media presence would have no pictures of themselves. So far, everything I've found has been entirely impersonal. If a random person picked up this phone, they wouldn't be able to guess who the owner was.

  It takes me some serious digging before I finally find a folder filled with something. And it's what I least expect—books. Hundreds—if not more—books on every subject, some academic, some fiction. From philosophy, to history and religion, there's no topic that's not covered here.

  And as I continue to browse through the list of titles, I'm having the hardest time believing what I'm seeing.

  "What the hell are you doing?" Gianna's voice rings out before she snatches her phone from my hands, her eyes wild as she looks like a deer caught in a headlight.

  "Relax, I didn't delete anything."

  "You'd better," she replies, almost absentmindedly as she makes sure everything is in place. "You're an asshole," she grits, closing her phone and tucking it safely in her pocket before hurling the discharge papers at me.

  Her shoulders are stiff as she places herself in a corner, putting some distance between us. And as I fill in the forms, I can't help but notice her repeatedly going back to her phone, almost as if she's anxious I might have done something to it.

  "What are you so prickly about?" I stand up, coming to her side. "Are you afraid I saw your nudes collection?" I drawl, wanting to play a little with her. But more than anything, I want to know who she is. Because it's becoming increasingly clear that the Gianna she shows to the world is not the real Gianna.

  "I don't have any nudes, mutt. Get your head out of the gutter," she huffs at me, her eyes looking anywhere but at me.

  "Then what are you so worried about? That I know you read Descartes? Or that I saw all those books from Project Gutenberg on your phone?"

  Her eyes widen, her lips trembling slightly.


  "I don't know what you're talking about," she lies.

  "You're not a very good liar, sunshine." I lean into her, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume as I all but nuzzle my nose in her hair.

  "Why don't you go flirt with your nurse and leave me alone," she pushes past me, but I'm faster as I wrap one arm around her waist, bringing her into me.

  The anesthetic the doctor had given me is still going strong, so I don't feel any pain when she squirms, trying to get out of my embrace.

  "Jealous?" I bury my face in her hair, enjoying the feel of those silken locks as they brush over my skin. "Tell me, are you jealous, sunshine?" I ask, nibbling at her earlobe.

  "Let me go," she lets out on a strangled tone. "I don't care who you fuck," she continues, trying to regain the strength in her voice. "As long as it's not me," she adds cheekily.

  "But that's just the issue, Gianna. You are the only one I'll be fucking. I don't care about other women. I don't even see other women," I tell her honestly. The truth is that she's bewitched me, awakening sensations in me I'd never experienced before.

  "You're lying," she shakes her head, still trying to get out of my hold.

  "I'm not," I state, bringing my fingers to her jaw and tipping it up so she can look into my eyes.

  "Because make no mistake, sunshine. I will fuck you. But only when you beg me. I'm not going to hold anything over your head. I want you, but only of your own volition," I stroke my thumb across her satin skin as I gaze into her eyes. "I will only fuck you when you ask for it."

  There's no fun in it otherwise. I want to tease and torment her until she surrenders to me of her own free will. I want her to suffer from sexual frustration, knowing I'm the only one who can provide relief. And only then will I act.

  I want her to be vulnerable. Open.

  I want the real her.

  And I know I'm not getting that if I blackmail her into fucking me. Certainly it would get Cisco off my back and help me fulfill the mission faster. But I don't want that. Why should I take the easy way out when I could enjoy watching this unravel softly? Because for all my dislike of her, I have to admit that no woman's ever caused such visceral reactions within me. And I want to explore this to the end.