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She grinds herself into me, building the friction of the contact until I’m at risk of coming in my goddamn pants. Yeah. So much for showing her who’s in charge.
“I needed to see you,” she replies, grinning at my response. “We have to talk.”
“Talk?” I echo. “You sure?” I drop my lips to the soft skin of her neck, and her blood rushes to the surface in response.
“Boss?” comes a voice, from somewhere on another planet. Fuck. Stefano. His men. A roomful of soldiers. I force myself away from Rosa, try not to glare at him. It’s not his fault my girlfriend is the world’s hottest vixen.
“Yeah. You carry on, Stefano. I, uh, have some business I need to take care of.”
Stefano grins at me, and I feel like punching his teeth out. “Sure thing.”
I grab Rosa by the hand and physically drag her out of the room so fast she struggles to keep up. I lift her into my arms, carrying her like a child, and run with her all the way to my own quarters. I throw her on the bed, and she squeals and giggles as she bounces on the mattress.
“This is all very caveman,” she says, stretching out.
“Yep. Too fucking right it is.”
I begin to tear every single item of clothing she’s wearing from her body, ignoring her protests. “You don’t have to rip everything,” she bleats as I remove her bra. “I’m sure you’re clever enough to have figured out bra hooks by now.”
The fabric gives, and I hold up the two pieces in front of her. “I’ve figured out you should just be naked, all the fucking time. It’d save me some effort.”
Her panties come next, and I take my time with those.
“These,” I say, running my finger along the silky material, “need to go anyway. They’re soaked through already.”
She squirms as I touch her, arching up to meet me. “What can I say? I get a little hot and bothered when I see you prepping for war …”
I slide my finger beneath her panties, run it over her clit. Her head goes back and she sighs as I pleasure her, her legs falling wide apart, her nipples erect and pebbled. Fuck, what a sight. The scent of her arousal fills my senses, and I have to taste her.
I kiss her breasts and work my way down her body until my mouth is hovering over her pussy. “Should I leave these panties on, as you’re so concerned about your clothing?”
The only reply I get is a muffled groan, and I smile at her desperation. The panties last another three seconds, before getting torn off by my teeth. Once she’s laid bare in front of me, I spread her folds wide with my fingers, exposing every beautiful inch of her. She’s writhing against the sheets, and I toy with the idea of imposing a “you move, I stop” rule, but I need this as much as she does. I put my lips on her and my tongue inside her, lapping up all her creamy juices and savoring every second of it.
I let her come quickly, but before she’s finished trembling, I flip her onto her belly and fuck her from behind. She’s on all fours, hair now loose, sweat on her back as I slam into her. The shockwaves from her orgasm are still tightening her pussy, and it doesn’t take long for me to find my own release.
I collapse onto the bed next to her, and she laughs. “Sometimes,” she says, amused, “a fast and furious fuck just gets the job done.”
“Hmmm,” I reply, as she scoots into my arms. “Wasn’t there a film series called that?”
“Almost, but not quite.”
She snuggles against me, her hands on my flesh. We are close, and we have just had sex, but I sense a distance in her. Something she’s holding back.
“You’re worried about the fire again?” I ask, stroking her lustrous hair. “About hurting me?”
“Yes. Always. But maybe not forever.”
“Right. Well, that clears things up. The meeting of the Dons is happening tomorrow night.”
She sniggers, like a child giggling at a silly joke. She’s always refused to buy into the whole Cosca reverence. I thought it might get her killed with Vincenzo, the way she disrespected him, but here we are. She lived to disrespect another day.
“Every time you say that,” she tells me, “I really want to laugh. It sounds so pompous.”
“Yeah, well, Cosca Dons can be pompous as fuck. All that honor, all that tradition. Centuries of things being done the same way. They believe their own hype.”
She glances up at me, her fingers tracing the silver of my tattoo. She’s always loved it but now seems more fascinated than ever.
“How much did this hurt?” she asks. I shrug.
