Lily Jenkins
I woke up to wet underwear, his hardness pressing against my back, and his hand around my neck.
I was throbbing with need. I could barely breathe.
He, as if noticing the change in my breathing, woke up instantly. His hand tightened for a second, and that didn't help with my situation. I let out a small whimper, one I hoped he didn't hear.
But he did. There was nothing Dante didn't notice.
"Blue."
His voice was usually sinful, and in the morning it was enough to kill me.
"Dante," I whispered.
He let go of my neck. I reached out for his hand instantly but he turned me on my back and pinned my wrists to the bed with one hand.
His eyes roamed my body. My nipples hardened under the loose t-shirt I was wearing. His jaw clenched, strands of gold falling over his forehead. His eyes went down to my thigh, looking at how desperately I had then pressed together.
He finally looked at my face. "Someone has gotten herself in a bit of a...mess." He watched my chest move up and down as I tried to breathe.
He gently brushed his knuckles on my nipples. I let out a pitiful whimper at the unsatisfying touch which sent fire burning through me. He did that for a while, brushing his knuckles delicately.
I squirmed, overwhelmed. "Y-You're killing me."
"I'm admiring you," he said. "Ask me to stop, Blue. And I'll walk away."
I snapped my mouth shut and he chose that moment to pinch one of my nipples - mercilessly. I jerked, letting out a small cry of surprise, and felt my panties getting wetter. I was positive I was making a fucking puddle down there.
His eyes lifted to mine and then he let go of my wrists. He got out of bed. I could see how hard he was through his dark sweatpants. His jaw worked as he ran his beautiful eyes all over me. "I have some work to do," he said, and then a small, evil, smirk came on his lips. "Be a good girl for me and don't touch yourself while I am gone."
I narrowed my eyes, sitting up. "I am touching myself as soon as you walk out the door."
"I won't touch you, then," he said simply.
"You wouldn't even know."
"Oh, believe me, Blue. I'd know." He pinched my chin between his fingers and kissed my forehead. "I'll make you cum again and again when I come back if you don't touch yourself," he promised. "If you do, I will not touch you and won't hold your neck tonight," he said. "Choose wisely, Blue."
He walked out and I barely resisted throwing a pillow at his smug little face. That little shit.
I laid back down, trying to ignore the pulsing between my thighs, but it was too much.
Yet, I didn't want to risk it. I wanted him to touch me and hold me through the night as he had.
So I suffered and cursed him out in my mind.
. . .
Dante Valentino
Leaving her wet and begging had been hard, but I knew her need would only grow till I went back to the house. I knew she wouldn't touch herself. She liked sleeping with me - and wanted me to make her cum.
I handled business. Appointing the Underboss had taken the back seat. Sicily was large, and Bratva was pissing me off.
"Another shipment?" I asked.
Marco, the one responsible for airport checks, answered. "All of them have weapons. We don't know what Bratva is planning, but this is the third shipment of theirs we have found out about." He shared a look with his brother - who may be Marco. There were identical twins. Same dark hair, the same eyes, and sometimes even the same clothes. I had given up on trying to differentiate between them.
"We can sell the weapons," said the other one.
I shook my head. "Destroy them. We don't know these weapons. There is a possibility they are fucked up and those assholes want us to sell. We are not going to ruin our reputation for a few million, yes?"
They nodded.
"And," I said. "Whatever plane brings the next shipment, I want it on fire. And it better be on every fucking paper. Another shipment and I am bombing the whole fucking airline. Anything else that needs my attention?"
They shared a look and then one of them nodded. "One of the crates was empty when we discovered the shipment."
"You're telling me someone else got to the weapons before us?" I demanded. "In my fucking territory?"
They kept their faces blank. "We think it's Samuel Creed. Maybe he needed weaponry."
"What was stolen?"
"Explosives," said one of them. "Enough to bury a large building. And a few guns."
. . .
