I cried out my pleasure and he knew I was close. I could see it in his eyes. He reached around my hip and rubbed my clit again, working it faster as he ground his massive cock deep between my legs. I gasped and took it, unable to move, unable to do anything but feel the pleasure tearing me to perfect pieces.
I came hard on his massive shaft. I came and felt my world spiral into bits and nothing. Pleasure assaulted me, took me and left me nothing more than a puddle of sweat and drool.
But he wasn’t done. He fucked my pussy, teased my breasts, then slid his massive shaft out from inside of me. He stroked himself and pulled me down to him, sliding his cock into my mouth. I sucked him, tasting my pussy on his skin, before he came deep into my throat, just what I wanted.
I swallowed every single drop, and when I was done, I looked up into his eyes as I licked my pussy off his still-hard shaft.
He was sweating, I was sweating. We collapsed onto his bed in a tangle of sheets and lust. He pulled me against his chest and held me there, and we didn’t speak. I don’t think there were any words, not after what we’d just done, not after that.
I could only think one thing, over and over again, as I felt myself slipping toward sleep in his arms.
He wanted to marry me.
I was going to be his bride.
I couldn’t tell if I loved it, feared it, or was repulsed by it all.
But I slept there, wrapped in his body, pleasure still pulsing through me, reverberating like a drum.
13
Dante
Aida was still asleep when I woke with the sun the next morning. I slipped from my bed and stared at her perfect skin, at her perky breasts and pink nipples. Fucking hell, I could still feel that tight cunt wrapped around my cock, her slick body writhing against mine. She took it and loved it, loved every inch of it, loved the way I manhandled her and used her for my pleasure.
I felt my cock stir and had to pull myself away before I woke her up and made her suck my cock again.
I slipped into the shower and rinsed off. When I was done, I stared at myself in the mirror for a long moment, going over the events of the night before.
None of it made any sense.
I came back out of the bathroom, intent on getting a suit from my wardrobe, but Aida was sitting up in bed. She wrapped a sheet around herself and stared at me. I tilted my head, naked and still damp, and I let her eyes moved along my body. I smirked when she met my gaze again.
“Sleep good?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I think I have bruises on my ass.”
“Good.” I walked to the dresser, found a pair of boxer briefs and a plain white undershirt, and pulled them on.
“Dante,” she said.
I looked up at her. “What?”
“Something happened last night.”
I frowned. “I fucked you until you fell asleep. Or don’t you remember having the best sex of your life?”
She blushed a little. “That’s not what I meant. Before you showed up. Something happened. You had… blood on your shirt.”
My eyes flicked over to the red-stained shirt lying on the floor. “Damn,” I said softly. “I’ll have to get rid of that.”
“What happened?” she pushed.
I walked to the wardrobe pressed against the far wall. It was large and oak, an antique thing made a hundred years ago in this city. It cost a goddamn fortune, but I loved the stupid thing. I opened the doors and smelled the wood a I picked out a suit and began to pull it on.
She just kept watching me. I put my slacks on, buttoned up my shirt, tucked it in. I turned to her as I adjusted my cuffs and tilted my head.
“You really want to know my business?”
“I think it has something to do with me. Or else you wouldn’t have…” She trailed off.
I snorted. “I don’t need an excuse to fuck you, Aida.”
“No, but you were angry. I think you were taking something out on me.” She bit her lip. “Not that I’m complaining. But what happened?”
I watched her for a long moment. I thought back to that club, the black light, the men on the ground. I could feel my gun smash against that fuck’s teeth again. I could see the bottles shake and fall over as my boys threw those dumb fucks over the bar.
“I hit Vlas back,” I said.
She nodded, not surprised. “What happened?”
I stepped toward her then sat down on the end of the bed. She moved over to me, the sheet dropping away to reveal one beautiful breast, her pink nipple hard again. I tilted my head toward her. “We hit the strip club your dad robbed,” I said.
She frowned and ran a hand along the sheets, smoothing them out. “Why?” she asked.
“Wanted to send a message,” I said. “Let Vlas know that nothing was safe, even a spot he knew we might come after again.”
“Did it work?”
“No,” I said. “It didn’t. He knew we’d be there. I don’t know how, but he knew.”
She looked up and her hair spilled over one shoulder as she adjusted the sheet to cover herself again. “How do you know?”
“He had a picture of you, probably from your Instagram profile. It was pinned to his desk with a knife. And his safes were all empty, no cash at all.”
She stared at me and her face morphed into horror. I stared at her, keeping my face calm and neutral. I didn’t want to scare her, but if she really wanted to be a part of my business, she was going to have to get used to things like this.
“Did you… did you kill someone?” Her voice sounded light and distant, like she was afraid to speak too loudly, or else
