Chapter 8
Dima
“I’ve got you, little witch,” I whisper, and I do. I will have her any way she’ll have me, whether she wants me or not I’ll be there for her. All her needs. The fates have decided.
She whines into my mouth as we share open mouth kisses, tasting each other, her tongue flicking mine before sucking it into her mouth.
Fuck. I know what that hot little mouth can do after having my cock in it, and it was heaven on earth.
I always knew that sex would be mind blowing but nothing like this.
Kristie makes me feel things. A sense of peace that I didn’t know existed until I spent time in her orbit.
She’s spread out on top of me, rocking her heat on my throbbing cock, the only thing separating us is the towel I still have wrapped around my waist. I roll us so I’m looming over her, and I don’t miss the little smirk on her face as I lower my face to suck on the soft skin just above her collarbone.
Her little breathy whimpers spur me on as I kiss my way to her gorgeous breasts, the large berry nipples begging for my tongue, my lips, my teeth.
Moving down until I’m eye level with two of the most beautiful breasts I’ve ever seen, I cup them, one in each hand, before offering them up to my mouth.
I move from nipple to nipple, licking, sucking, flicking them with my tongue, the turgid peaks stiff in my mouth as I suck one in so deep that Kristie lets out a long, low moan.
“Please, Dima.”
I let her nipple go with a soft “pop”, shimmying down the bed even further until I’m staring at the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. OK, I may not have seen too many this close in real life, other than the stripper pussy you get at some of the Bratva clubs, but none of them belonged to my woman.
Blowing gently I watch with fascination as Kristie’s pussy clenches, her thick pussy lips spread wide, her little nub standing proudly between her folds.
The black curls framing her pussy wet with desire.
Leaning in I lick her from bottom to top, my tongue flat, like I’m licking an ice cream.
I want the full taste of her on my tongue, I want her juices running down my chin.
I lick her like this, eating up her cream, busy with my work until she grips my hair in her fist so hard that it’s painful.
“Stop fucking about and make me come, Dima, I need to, please!”
Well, my woman doesn’t have to ask twice.
Sucking my middle finger into my mouth I wet it with my spit then run it around her clit, then down her creamy slit to the place she wants me, needs me.
Pressing inside her I latch onto her clit and suck as I use the “come here” movement I heard works wonders for bringing on a woman’s orgasm.
Kristie’s wet pussy grips at my fingers as she throws her head back, screaming my name and every obscenity known to man.
Watching her in her ecstasy has me surging forward, unable to wait any longer, wanting to be a part of this woman, this beautiful creature bucking beneath me.
I line myself up and push into her, her orgasm causing her pussy to pulse and flutter around me.
My breath is stolen from my lungs, she feels so good. Too good.
“Dima, move! Please fuck me!”
I do as my woman wishes, pulling back until only the crown rests between her thick lips, then thrust to the hilt, her plump tits bouncing at the movement.
I do it again. Then again and again, chasing my own high as she bucks beneath me, meeting my every thrust until the telltale tingle at the base of my spine signals that this is all about to be over.
My long, low groan mixes with her cries and I spill inside her, load after load of my cum pumps with every pulse of my orgasm until I collapse, spent.
“Dima,” she whispers, wrapping her arms around me, pulling my whole weight onto her, her legs wrapping around my waist.
“Kristiana,” I whisper back.
“Don’t leave me just yet.”
“Never,” I promise.
In time my cock softens, slipping out of her wet heat as I move our positions, not wanting to crush the poor thing.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Ved’ma moya, I didn’t think to use protection, I was too -”
She places her finger over my lips. “I know you’re clean. I’m clean too, I was tested after my last hookup,” something about how casually she mentions the last person makes my gut clench. “I wouldn’t have done it unprotected if I didn’t trust you, Dima. I hope you know that.”
She cups my face and I can tell by the sincerity in her eyes that she’s being truthful.
Swallowing, I press a gentle kiss to her lips. “Let me get you cleaned up.”
She grins cheekily at me, letting me pull her to sit before I scoop her up and carry her to the bathroom. Where I proceed to dirty her up twice more.
* * *
I know as soon as I wake she’s no longer here. I could feel the emptiness wrap its arms around me as she slipped out of my home. Also, the recurring dream I have of her kinda was a huge giveaway.
Scrubbing my hand down my face I reach for my phone, trying not to picture the ways I had her last night.
I scroll to Lexi’s name and then hesitate.
My thumb frozen over the call button. Is it better for me to call Lexi to find her, trace her phone, or for me to use my vision and common sense to find her?
“Shit!” I throw my phone on the bed as Lady Gaga blares through it, giving me enough of a fright that I’ll have to check my boxers. Snatching it up, I swipe the screen, “Lexi?”
“Why are you breathing weird? Wait, are you with a girl?” Her eyes narrow at the screen.
“No! You gave me a fright.”
She side eyes me. “Riiiiiight. I gave the creepy guy a fright,” she snorts.
“Is there a reason you’re calling me?”
“Yeah, you had any more visions of people?”
I hesitate. Do I tell her about La Strega and let her work her magic? Flicking my eyes to the date on the screen I have four days before Halloween night. Which is when I’m pretty certain her time will be up. Anything that can help me would be a good thing.
“Yeah, what can you find me on someone known as La Strega? She’s Mafia.”
“The Witch?”
“You’ve heard of her?” I ask, sitting up at this information.
“What? No. La Strega translates to ‘the witch’. Surely, being a witch yourself you’d know that.” The little shit rolls her eyes.
“No, because I don’t spend my life learning what the word ‘witch’ is in different languages.”
“Well, suit yourself. Lemme do some digging and I’ll get back to you.”
With that she hangs up, not even saying good bye. That kid is too much like her father.
I flop back into my bed, thinking through the past 24 hours. How much my life has been irrevocably changed by one little killer woman. I know that she’s running, afraid that she’ll lose me, but my little witch is going to find that it’ll take a lot more than a fucking curse for me to give her up.
Kristie
“And that is why you don’t fuck with kids.” Gently my finger squeezes the trigger, and I watch as a bullet tears through Mike Campini’s head.
I brace myself for the whispers, the cries, the lost dreams that Mike will never be able to make reality. With clenched fists I listen to it all. All the people complicit with this piece of shit. The people who provided him with innocents.
Shit. Flabby assed Glenn was right. It’s huge.
The people behind this, the kidnapping, the selling of little bodies, they’re powerful.
Well known. Not only in the New Orleans community, but in the underground community where people like me and Dima live.
This little side quest of mine has just got a fuck ton more complicated.
And that’s without my feelings for Dima.
I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a bit of a party girl.
A loose woman if you will. I mean, both are terrible terms to describe women who enjoy sex, but it is what it is.
Last night with Dima? I have never felt a connection like that before.
It wasn’t just our bodies speaking to each other, it was like our souls were connected.
Which is why, in true independent woman fashion, I ran away as soon as my eyes opened.
I cannot be the death of that man. Not a man that is as pure as he is.
He was a damned virgin for shit’s sake! Ugh.
Tipping my head back I take a deep breath, center myself, then take my phone from my pocket.
“Yeah, I need a clean up. I’ll pin the location.” Hanging up I pin the whereabouts of Mike’s body, then slip out of the room.
The Sanificatore family don’t need me to give them directions.
They’re trained for this. The whole family have been Mancini cleaners from the very start.
Emigrating from Naples to the US when the original family came.
They’re also somewhat creepy, but I guess you get that from generations of cleaning up dead bodies.
Slipping out of the door I walk down the street, whistling.
I may have just had to listen to Mike’s secrets, but I feel a shit ton lighter because I also got rid of another piece of shit.
It’s checks and balances sometimes. Pushing through the door of my favorite coffee shop I raise my hand, one finger in the air.
Brenna beams at me, nodding and giving me a thumbs up, showing she got my order.
The bubbly redhead is the best thing in this dreary cafe. Sunny, colorful, full of life surrounded by a weirdly emo vibe. But I mean, I can’t talk. I’m the human embodiment of this sad cafe. Clad in black, Doc Martens, thick dark eye make up. Hey, it’s my vibe.
“Here you are, lovely,” Brenna beams at me, placing my to go cup on the table I’m sitting at.
“Thanks, babe.” I grin when she turns pink. I should really stop flirting with the poor girl.
“How are you doing, anyway? I didn’t see you yesterday.”
“Nope, I’ve been busy with work. Still am, but I needed one of your amazing coffees to perk me up.”
She beams wider, if that’s even possible, “Aw thank you! You are such a sweetie,” she gushes.
On anyone else I’d think she was being bitchy, sarcastic. But Brenna is not anyone else, she’s light in human form. And light I should stop sucking up to. The world needs more people like Brenna, and I’m not about to be the reason she’s taken from this world.
“Anyhoo, I better get going. Take care, yeah?” I say, swiping up my to go cup, and scooting past Brenna.
“Have an amazing day!” She waves to me and I scuttle away even quicker, to get my killer germs away from her.
Dammit! And I was having a reasonably good morning.
I can do one of two things. Get rid of a couple more scum bags from my list, or visit Mama Celene and cry on her shoulder, then get a pep talk to perk me up enough to maybe message Dima.
Maybe. I mean, thanking him for last night wouldn’t be too terrible, would it?
Making up my mind I make my way to my little green beetle, climb in, pop my coffee in my cup holder and tear out of my parking space, headed for my surrogate mom’s house.