The Mob Boss's Retribution [18+]

24

The next two days, I like to think we made progress.

Me and Roman that is.

Sleeping beside him, even though it was a safety measure was- good?

I like to think it was good.

I liked the warmth and reassurance of someone beside me.

I made him breakfast for three consecutive morning at a stretch, even though cooking repulses me to a point where I feel like I am fucking done with the kitchen and my life.

But I made him breakfast.

He made the coffee and we ate in silence.

Often Roman slipped this and that about what was going on.

Apparently the guy who Roman killed was an important member of a rival family who fucked with him and it was the rival family after him.

That still didn't make sense why would the Greek attack Angelo.

"The Greeks are plain assholes." Roman had said, dismissing the discussion.

I didn't press him further about the matter because small things were triggering him without any logical explanation.

Nuter. I thought mentally.

We ate dinner of creamy steak fettuccine and shared red wine delivered by a maid from the hotel's kitchen, tonight and then one thing led to the other, I ended up beneath Roman, a panting, moaning mess.

Many orgasms on my part later, I laid awake, sprawled on Roman's chest, fingers tracing the taut muscle lines on his body as he held me to him with an arm around my shoulder.

I'd say progress.

Because Roman never stays after he was done filling his lungs with the lost air.

But tonight we laid on the same bed, caught our breath and stared at the almost reflective ceiling, in silence.

Only our breathing disrupting the calmness of the atmosphere.

"I'd have to be at the airport in sometime." He says abruptly, his thumb brushing against my naked shoulder.

I raise my head up, resting my chin on his bare chest. "Oh?"