Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
age 18
I wanted to be anywhere but here.
Abuelo was finally out from under the men from Veracruz and my father had been promoted—he was officially a capo in the King mafia. My mother had also decided she wanted to renew their marriage vows, here in Cuba.
And now, I’d been forced to sit through a hot and sweaty ceremony, where they'd promised fealty towards each other in front of five hundred or so guests. My parents were anything but the doting couple, though by the way they were acting tonight, you'd have thought they were honeymooners in love. As they'd stared into each other's eyes, pretending to be in love, I grit my teeth, knowing that they weren't even planning on spending the night in the same room.
My mother had a lover on the side, one that she'd audaciously brought with her. I still couldn't tell if my father knew about it, since the man was smart enough to be subtle. Any consequence to blatant disgrace would come down swiftly.
Compared to a lot of other mafia men, my father was a fair man, but, just like every other capo, his wife was expected to be faithful, publicly at least, while he could fuck whoever he wanted in plain sight.
Right now, he had a woman on his lap, Valentina Marsala. She’d once tried to get me to propose to her but I guessed she’d given that up and was going after my father. I knew by the end of the night she'd have her hand in his pocket.
My mother tolerated Valentina’s presence for a few more minutes, looking the other way, until finally, even she'd had enough. She snapped at him to keep his dick in his pants—at least until the end of the party.
It didn't escape me that her own gaze kept on drifting to her lover, and I swallowed down the rest of my mojito, wishing it was stronger, and ordered straight rum.
My week had been a shit show. I’d done terrible things recently, and the only good thing about this trip was that I would get to see Tatiana.
Due to my influence, her parents were deemed worthy to be invited to the celebration. And, by extension, Tatiana.
Over the years, I’d fought with Abuelo over her. I wanted him to force Tatiana’s parents to stop selling her, but he was adamant that we stay out of their business. I’d even tried to get involved myself but was punished for going against Abuelo’s wishes.
I’d then changed tactics, coming to an arrangement with Abuelo to include her father in the business more, if I paid for it.
Bogdan Krapivnik was a fuck up, lazy and selfish, and I was essentially paying a monthly stipend for him to sit around one of our restaurants and pretend to run the place.
He would invite friends and strangers to sit and talk to him, where he would boast about how the place was thriving, now that he was in charge. Then, at the end of the meal, to prove his success, he would offer to pay for their bill. After they’d gone, he would insist on being reimbursed from the restaurant.
Abuelo tolerated it, for my sake, as long as I was willing to pay for it.
I wouldn't have cared, if the money was going to Tatiana, but my plan hadn’t worked. She was still working, using her body to pay for the burning cash her parents loved to spend.
The only reason Tatiana's dress was so expensive was because it was marketing for her brand: the seductress of the island’s top whore.
Every time I saw Bogdan, I wanted to wrap my hands around his skinny neck and squeeze.
My phone rang for the tenth time since I’d arrived tonight. When I saw who was calling, I shoved it in my water, scowling. Rook knew the truth now, and he was out for my throat.
And I deserved it.
Out of the corner of my eye, something flashed and I glanced towards it.
Of course, it was Tatiana. Every single movement that woman made, I noticed.
And she was all woman now, no longer the skinny girl with the pigtails I’d met so many years ago. Her face had matured, her eyes intelligent and knowledgeable. They were still that deep shade of blue that reminded me of the unfathomable depths of the ocean or the endless night sky.
Instead of lip-gloss, she was wearing a stark, deep-red lipstick. The contrast of it against her midnight-black hair and creamy skin drew your attention there. Earlier, there had been a moment I hadn’t been able to tear my eyes away from them.
She’d also straightened her hair. It was smooth and sleek and looked so soft, I wanted to run my fingers through it to discover what clouds would feel like.
To add to that, her sexy, black lace dress was sending my church-girl fantasies into overdrive. I wanted to bend her over the table where she was politely speaking to the Havana archbishop, rip that delicate lace up and over her ass, then fuck her senseless right in front of him.
I could tell by the marks on her hands and arms that they were still giving her heroin. In fact, by now, she could be taking it on her own. Though, she didn’t look high now, which was a good sign.
She caught me staring and met my gaze, the connection between us just as strong as ever, even though I was seeing her less and less these days.
Things at home were officially in full swing. I'd grown closer to Coulter, the mafia prince, and was fully involved in their business now. And yet, no matter what was going on in Vegas, Tatiana and I remained close.
We stared into each other’s eyes for what would've been a very uncomfortable amount of time for anyone else, but not for Tatiana. And so much was said in the connection between us. I couldn’t hide my true emotions from her. Adoration for her intelligent thoughts, homesickness to be with her when I was gone, longing to touch her again. And, in the past few years…lust. To feel her wrapped around me, her arms clinging to my neck, her body pressed against mine.
And love .
I loved this woman.
I wanted to be by her side every moment of every day.
"Knight?" my mother's grating voice snapped, "Are you listening to me?"
I only grunted in response, still not looking away from Tatiana, though my gaze had lowered, lingering on her lips.
"Hijo," Abuelo's stern voice made my back straighten, and I finally broke my stare to look at him. His lips were pursed, his sharp eyes narrowed at me. “Show some respect. Your mama is speaking to you."
"Disculpe," I asked for his pardon, then turned towards my mother, pretending to listen.
“I brought you here to celebrate your father’s and my anniversary, Knight. Why can’t you appreciate…”
I motioned for another glass of rum, doing my best to properly respond at the appropriate moments as she went on and on.
“I’m only trying to do what’s best for you.”
I nodded, “Of course, mom.”
“And there are several girls here who want to speak with you. Just earlier, Solidad was telling me about how her daughter is going to school in the States to be a doctor. She’s here now, visiting with her family…”
After several minutes, I finally took a chance to glance back at Tatiana; her seat was empty.
Still grunting in response to my mother, I scanned the room, looking for her. If she was with another man, I was going to lose my shit, regardless of how Abuelo felt about it. It took me a good five minutes of searching the room to find her. The party was in full swing now, and Valentina was back on my father’s lap, her arms hooked around his neck. She was moving in time with the music from the live band, grinding against him.
People had pushed the tables and chairs out of the way, and were dancing in the middle of the room. Servers in button-up white shirts and black ties scrambled to keep everyone plied with drinks and to clean up after them.
Tatiana’s parents had moved away from the priest, and were talking to Raul and Pedro, my other cousin, on the opposite side of the dance floor.
I finally spotted her at the back of the room, right outside the doors to the kitchen.
As soon as my eyes landed on her, she smirked, then turned, glancing slyly at me before disappearing through the swinging doors.
I jumped to my feet, throwing my napkin on my halfway eaten plate. "Yes, mother. Whatever you want." I kissed the top of her head and walked off without excusing myself. I didn't even know what I'd agreed to, only that I wanted to shut her up so Abuelo wouldn't stop me from going to Tati.
The kitchen was chaos with shouting cooks and servers. A large dulce de leche cake was being frosted, and the smell of burnt caramel filled my nose.
As I made my way through the maze of insanity looking for her, a waiter walked by with three fresh glasses of mojitos. I scooped one up, slipping him a generous tip before he could protest, and took a sip.
Then, a flash of black lace before it disappeared around the corner.
Narrowing in on it, I chased Tatiana to the darkened hallway, full of opportunity and promise.
When I turned the corner, I found her waiting for me, her back pressed to the wall.
Stark cheekbones and collarbones drew me in. The front of her dress dipped low to reveal generous curves of her tits, the thin, muscular line of her belly. Her lips were full and rich and so fucking bite-able, I wanted to nibble on them.
I was hard just looking at her.
Intelligent eyes now heated with lust, stared at me. “I’ve been waiting all week for you.” Her hand slid up her thigh, pulling her dress up with her. The movement revealed the waist-high slit in her dress and long, shapely legs. “It was my birthday."
"You didn't get my present?" I moved closer, drawn to her like gravity between two black holes.
"Yes. I got it.” Eyes glimmering with lust, her hand slipped inside the front of black, velvet panties. The fabric tented, bobbing, drawing me in, a moth to the flame. The sound of her soft sigh was the only thing that tore my eyes away from her hand. She'd closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. “But that’s not what I wanted.”
“What did you want, Tatiana?” I brought the glass to her mouth, tipping it. She parted luscious lips, taking a sip, her eyes opening and staring at me as she drank. I couldn’t stop staring at her lips on the glass. Remembering how sweet they were. The taste of her sweaty skin, her perky nipples. Over the recent years, I was slowly growing to know all the little pieces of her.
I lowered the glass. Then, taking a block of ice from it, I hooked a finger in lace, pulling it aside to reveal a nipple. It pebbled as I stroked the ice against the tip. "Whatever it is, I'll give it to you."
"Anything?” She moaned, arching her back into my touch, her panties still moving as she played with herself.
“Yes," I could only stare at the erotic creature. "Anything."
"I don't believe you," she breathed out, her voice strained.
“Try me.” I slid the ice down her belly, watching it move gracefully over sensual skin and tight muscle. Slipping my hand under her panties, she gasped as I pushed it up her blazing, soaked cunt.
“God, Knight.” Her fingers wrapped around my arm, squeezing it tight, pulling me closer as her hips shifted, rocking against me.
“You’re already so wet, polva .” I grinned as my fingers joined hers, sliding through her slick, swollen folds. “Have you been a naughty girl?”
“Yes. I couldn’t stop myself.”
I leaned in, caressing the soft skin of her neck with my lips. “Tell me what wicked thing you’ve done.”
“I played with myself, under the table, while I was staring at you.”
“In front of the priest?” I chuckled darkly at her nod. “Do you do that often? Lie in your bed, thighs spread, touching yourself, thinking of me?”
“Almost every night.”
“And during the day?” My cock was growing thicker at her words and at our fingers, sliding against each other, fighting for dominance over her pussy.
“Sometimes.”
“You’re such a dirty whore.” I kissed and licked down the swell of her breast. “Do you think of me when you fuck those other men?”
“Every time.”
“And what do you think about?” My teeth grazed over her nipple.
“You claiming me. Taking me away from this place. Showing me what life could really be like.”
Biting down on her tit, I tore her panties off and pushed a finger up inside her. “Is that all?”
“All?” She laughed, the sound acerbic, then her voice growing more desperate as she rolled her hips, “No, that’s not all.”
“Then what?”
“I imagine you on top of me. Your body covering mine.”
“Kissing you?” She nodded. “Then moving down your body?” I dropped the glass, shattering it on the floor, then fell to my knees, staring up at her. “Tasting your dirty pussy?” I hooked a finger through velvet, pulling her panties to the side, and bent down, my mouth coming down on her. “Making you come? Then lapping up your cream?”
She moaned. “God, yes.”
“Sliding up inside you, my big dick filling you?” I inserted another finger, fucking her with them as I ate her out.
“Please,” she whimpered. “Please.”
“Making babies with you?” I suckled and fucked. “You want that, polva?”
She nodded. “Yes. All of that.”
I suddenly pulled away, my breath a whisper across her pussy. “Tell me, Tatiana, what is it you wanted for your birthday?”
She inhaled a deep, shuttering breath, her eyes halfway lidded, hesitating a moment before she spoke. "You, Knight. I wanted you for my birthday."
A possession, wild and untamed, came over me, the thought that she'd probably fucked half of the men in Cuba making me furious, all because I was too chicken shit to make her mine. Growling, I jumped to my feet. Fisting her nape, I pressed into her, my mouth crashing against hers. Her cries of pleasure were lost in me as I devoured her lips, shoving my fingers up inside her again.
I hated myself for my fear: the fear that I would end up hating her as much as my father hated my mother. I didn't want to end up like my parents but I also couldn't stand the thought of another man owning her.
“Do you remember the first promise you ever made me, Knight?” Her words were mumbled and reckless against my lips. “To always protect me?”
“Yes.” I snarled out my frustration, taking it out on her, biting down on her lip hard enough to make her bleed while my fingers stroked, stroked. “I would never forget my oath.”
“I’ve never forgotten, either. I hang onto it, every time someone fucks me.”
“I hate those men.”
“I know. I also know what you do to them afterwards.”
“And do you like that?” My fingers stroked, stroked, and her juices slid down my hand as I consumed her with my kiss. “Like that the men suffer for what they’ve done to you?”
“Yes.”
“And what would you do for, me? Huh, polva?”
“Anything.”
“Get down on hands and knees? Crawl to me? Beg me to take you from this place?”
Her responding mewl only made my dick swell bigger, digging into her stomach. I was pressed so tight to her, I was certain she could feel every inch. Her other hand was clasping my neck, holding me tight to her.
"Come away with me?”
“Huh?”
I hooked my finger up inside her and pressed against her g-spot. She cried out, her hips jerking and twisting. “Promise me you'll never touch another man again."
"It's too late for that, Knight." Her nails dug into the skin of my neck, tearing through skin and driving me even more crazy.
"It's not," I thundered. "You're fucking mine, yeah?"
"No," she shook her head.
I pulled back, still rubbing her g-spot, loving the blush to her cheeks, the arousal in her halfway lidded eyes, her swollen lips. "What if I marry you?"
The edge of her lip curled upwards in skepticism, but her hand went to my wrist, still encouraging me. "You would never do that." Her voice was cold and jaded. "You're not the marrying type."
"I would," I insisted. "For you, I would."
"Oh God." She was referring to her orgasm cresting, and not my proposal. “Fuck me, Knight. Don’t leave me empty. I need you inside me.”
"Marry me, Tati," I tore open my pants, pulled out my cock, and shoved myself up inside her, the need to claim this woman overtaking all sense. She hung on for her life as I lost my shit, fucking her harshly. "I'm claiming you, right here, right now. You belong to me, Tati, and no one else."
She didn't answer me but shifted her hips, fucking me as roughly as I fucked her. Her legs were wrapped around me, her heels digging into my back.
I leaned over, kissing her as I thrust into her. "Say you'll marry me. Say you want me as much as I want you."
“And you’ll always love me? Protect me?”
“Always. Even if you don’t marry me.”
“Then, yes," she breathed against my mouth. "I'll marry you, Knight."
I roared, coming, shooting up inside her. She came at the same time as me, sweat glistening down her body, her swollen lips forming a perfect exhale. I rubbed her clit to draw out her orgasm, then yanked out of her.
My come soaked her panties and down her thighs and she blinked her eyes open in confusion. I stepped into her, kissing her softly, sliding my fingers through the combination of our fluids. As I kissed her, I brought my fingers to her mouth to spread my seed over her lips.
"Mine, mine, mine," I whispered against her lips, kissing her again, both our tongues tangling as we tasted each other.
"Yours," she whispered against me, then, kissing me one last time, she pulled her head away. Leaning back against the wall, she stared up at me, a happiness filling her eyes that I hadn't seen in a long long time.
I inhaled a deep breath, zipping myself up, then cupped her cheeks, staring into her eyes.
“Come home with me tonight. To the States.” I kissed her. “Forget this place. We’ll live together until we can plan the wedding of your dreams.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I said, kissing her again. “I’ve never been more sure of a goddamn thing in my life.”
“Then, yes,” she clasped me tighter, kissing me again. “I’ll come with you.”
I was lost in her, her kiss, her taste, her touch, for so long that time stood still. It was only her and me, and our new life together.
Then thunder struck, ripping through the restaurant and changing my life forever.