Book three of the only series
They gave her one mission. They told her to find the Chicago mob Capo and get revenge. So they sent her away. She had a plan. A mindset. Goals she needed to reach.
Until she met his son.
He was supposed to be the en...
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Fuck. I don't know how many times I had to say it. But Faye Rameriz really drove me fucking crazy. So much so I couldn't resist her smart mouth anymore and those goddamn fuck me eyes.
I needed her and giving into the temptation felt damn good.
She felt good.
Looked good too. Laid out on my counter still. Breathing hard and coming down from her orgasm. From just swallowing her own cum and whiskey. The mix tasted like it would forever be an addiction for me.
Everything about this moment would be an addiction for me. I wanted to taste her pussy every goddamn day. I wanted her to moan in my ear like she did over and over again. I wanted to hear her curse at me and tell me empty threats and then beg me to fuck her right after. I wanted to feel her legs shake and feel them continue shaking hours after I went down on her.
I had a feeling right now was going to be one of those. I smirked and gently placed my hands on her thighs, over her smooth skin. I wrapped her legs around my waist and finally her muscles relaxed and she stopped shaking.
I watched as she narrowed her dark blues, almost glaring at me, but I saw the lust all in between that. Her need for more. Which was exactly what I was planning on giving her. My cock was already straining against my boxers and the feel of her pussy inches from me only made me harder.
"You weren't that good to have that look on your face, Bertelli," she muttered, her voice still breathy and raspy. Her usually all pale skin was flushed on her cheeks and her hair fanned around her. Black thick waves I wanted to thread my fingers in. Her lips were swollen and red, just tempting me to take another taste and steal her air and make it my own. Mix them together so she was breathing mine instead.
"I wonder why your legs are still shaking then," I replied, raising my brows at her. Her dress was still on but was risen, showing her stomach and only a bit of lace from her bra.
Her fucking leather boots were still on and I wasn't plan on taking them off her either. She tortured me enough wearing them everyday at the club in nothing but flimsy fabric pieces that tested me every time I saw her.
"Honestly. I've had better- fuck-" her pretty pink lips parted further with a soft moan when I grabbed her hips and grinded her wet pussy into the fabric of my sweatpants. Right on my already hard dick.
"I think I'll like to make you regret saying that," I said, messaging her hips, my fingers gliding across her tattoo. They were all hidden and I'd never see them unless she was working at the club in lingerie. I knew she had two other tattoos that aren't visible right now. One on her back and one just beneath her bra.
"You can't make me regret anything, pretty boy," the teasing way my nickname rolled off her tongue made my cock twitch against her. I knew she felt it by the way she moved her hips slightly, making me groan.
