Gio
I step into Caffè Milano. I’m looking for Ivan, the bratva asshole I’m supposed to meet. I find him sitting at a table across from Marissa. At least I think it’s Marissa. Her back is to me. Ivan watches me as I approach, a smug smile on his face. I walk over and Marissa looks up. Duct tape is over her mouth, and I see her wrists and ankles are bound together. She tries to scream from behind the tape. Her wide and frightened eyes are glued to mine.
Glued to mine as Ivan laughs and shoots her right in the heart.
“No!” I shout and reach for my gun, but it’s not there. It’s not there and someone’s pulling my arm.
I try to jerk it off.
“Gio.”
I blink. Marissa’s wide blue gaze is still fixed on my face. “Gio.” She tugs on my arm.
“Marissa.” Thank fuck. There’s no tape over her mouth. She’s not bleeding. She’s in my bed.
Just a dream. Just a fucking dream.
She traces her fingertips over the muscles of my arm. “Another nightmare?”
“Cazzo.” I rub the stubble on my face. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
“Was I in it?”
I give a humorless laugh. “Every fucking time.”
“What happened? Never mind.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know why I asked. I’m sure I don’t want to know.”
“You definitely don’t. Fucking Russians.” I throw the covers off and pad to the bathroom. When I come back, Marissa’s still in my bed.
I stop to take in the sight.
She’s so fucking pretty. Her caramel-colored hair fans out on the pillow, the blue of her eyes bright against the backdrop of my charcoal gray sheet she has pulled up to her armpits. She’s so young and fresh and full of life. So much to live for. And it could all be taken away in the blink of an eye.
I climb back onto the bed and yank the sheet down to her waist to see those perky little breasts in the light of the day.
She gasps and tries to reach for it, but I shake my head and she instantly stills, her pretty eyes attentive and alert.
Huh. She’s submissive with me now.
Not a submissive by nature, though.
I straddle her waist over the sheet and palm one of her breasts.
All her attention’s still trained on my face. I see the flutter of her pulse in her neck. “They’re small,” she murmurs, like an apology.
I release her tit and slap the side of it.
She yelps and covers both of them with her hands.
“They’re fucking perfect.” I grab her wrists and pin them down beside her head. “You criticize this body again, I’m gonna paint your ass red.”
She lets out a surprised laugh. “It’s my body.”
I arch a brow. “Is it baby? I don’t think so. I believe I own you now.” I cup both her breasts and squeeze, then brush my thumbs over the stiffened peaks.
My cock lengthens between us.
She licks her lips.
I slide the sheet down between us and run my finger over her slit to check for wetness.
Dripping.
Babygirl likes being owned.
And I sure as hell love owning her.
I move to the side to get rid of the topsheet and slip my hands behind her knees to push them up toward her shoulders.
“That’s right baby. Spread that pussy for me and show me how wet you get when I talk dirty.”
She whimpers. I can’t get enough of those eyes trained on my face! It makes me feel as tall as the fucking Willis Tower.
“That’s the pussy I own, isn’t it, baby?”
She sucks her lower lip into her mouth, her breath coming more quickly.
“What should I do to that pussy first? Lick it?”
She swallows and nods quickly.
I give her what must be a feral smile. I’m definitely feeling predatory. I lower my head and take one long lick with my tongue flat. Then I trace around her inner lips.
“You make all that honey for me, angel?”
Whimper.
“Does that mean you want my big cock inside you again, sweet girl?”
“Yes,” she says quickly. More quickly than I expected. It’s so fucking cute.
So fucking hot.
My balls start aching. I nip her labia and she gasps. Moving her legs to rest on my shoulders, I reach up and take hold of each of her nipples, applying a steadily increasing pressure as I tickle her clit with my tongue.
“Oh my gawd!” she cries.
“You like that, baby?”
“More,” she whimpers.
“Oh, I’ll give you more. I’ll give you so fucking much you’ll be begging for mercy.”
She mewls because I’m pinching her nipples pretty hard. I speed up the action on her clit, then suction my mouth over it and suck. I release her from both sensations all at once, and she cries out with alarm.
“I need a condom,” I tell her. “You put yourself in the position you want to get fucked in. And make it a good one.”
As if there’s any that wouldn’t be good with this girl-ha.
I walk to the nightstand, pretending not to watch as she rustles around on the bed, arranging and rearranging herself. I waste a little time until she goes quiet then let myself take her in.
Fuuuuuuck.
The little minx is on her knees and forearms, ass in the air.
“Oh, babygirl, that was such a good choice. I’m gonna have to reward you for that one.”
I walk around behind her and give her dripping cunt another generous massage with my tongue.
“I have to say… this ass is begging to be spanked.” I slide my hands around the globes of her ass in total and complete appreciation. “Only one mark from last night. That was from the belt, I think.” I trace it with my thumb. “Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“Good. I’m not gonna hurt you this morning. I’m just going to give you a little sting. You like it as rough as I like to give, don’t you, angel?”
She doesn’t answer.
I slap her ass. “Answer me, Marissa.”
“I don’t know… I guess so.”
“Did you learn something new with me?” I rub the place I slapped.
“Yeah. Definitely.”
I chuckle, loving her admission. “Beautiful girl.” I slap the same place, rub again. I keep going, delivering slaps, then massaging until her skin turns pink and she’s moaning and wagging her hips for more.
Only then do I roll on my condom. “Ready for more, angel?”
“Yes, please,” she moans.
So sweet she’s become. I’m not fool enough to think this will last, but I sure as hell am enjoying it for the moment.
I prod her entrance gently, then ease in. Her moan is sultry. Welcoming. “Such a beautiful ass, baby. I love fucking you from behind.”
“Mmm.”
I grip her waist and pull her hips back to meet me on my thrusts. The angle lets me get deep inside her and she feels so good. Still tight as a glove. So hot and wet. I close my eyes and indulge in the decadence of sensations.
Finally, a reason to live.
When her cries change in pitch-getting louder and more desperate, I reach around the front of her and rub her clit.
She shrieks. “Gio! Oh my God! Please!”
Who can deny her? I fuck harder, rocking the bed against the wall with the force of my thrusts.
When I’m about to come, I reach around again for another rub. I shout. She screams. We both fly over the edge together, her pussy squeezing my cock in the most glorious way. I fall on top of her and drag her to her side, still buried deep.
I breathe into her neck. Bite it. Hold her breast as I thrust a few more times.
“Oh my God,” she pants again.
I trail kisses along her shoulder, down her arm. “All this time I’ve been wondering why my life was saved,” I rumble, not even censoring myself. It’s kinda crazy how much I let loose around this girl. “And I think I just figured it out.” I nip her arm.
Her laugh is low and throaty. “Oh yeah? For sex?”
“Sex with you, sugar.”
I pull out before the condom comes off and I dispose of it.
I pick up my phone and text Michael, who is now essentially my bitch. Fire the sous chef Arnie, effective immediately. He’s been nasty with the girls who work in the kitchen. And give both the girls a three dollar an hour raise, starting from their last paycheck to make it up to them.
I turn my phone around and show Marissa when I’m done.
She’s sitting up in bed, hair tousled, face flushed. She’s the sweetest thing I’ve had in my bed, ever.
I’m trying to figure out how to keep her here. Or if that’s even the right thing to do.
Fuck me with this right and wrong shit all the time now. Why’d I have to grow a fucking conscience after my near-death experience?