Ten
Selene
I walk through the dark, urine-infested corridor and try to remind myself, once again, why I have to hide in this sketchy motel. If I want my presence in Chicago to go unnoticed, I have to stay in places where no made men would suspect a syndicate principessa to frequent. Of course, I stayed in worse places than this when I was on the run, but that seems like a lifetime ago. Being reacquainted with such a destitute environment brings back all sorts of depressing memories. Memories of how I had suffered being separated from my home and all the people who mattered most to me. Although, once I was in a more homely accommodation, able to hide in plain sight, it still didn’t lessen the heartache. But it did help to force the misery to the back of my mind, as I trudged on through with my days, pretending to be someone I wasn’t.
As I approach my room and start to look for my keys, I freeze when a suspicious sound grabs my attention. I lean my ear to the door to confirm if someone is inside, but it’s a difficult feat to accomplish when the moans of my next-door neighbor are as fucking loud as the cursing being done by an indebted junkie and his dealer across the hall. I try to concentrate, blocking all the noise out, and verify that a light sound was coming from inside my room, which could only be made by an intruder going through every inch of the gloom-filled place.
Instinct makes me reach into my purse and grab my gun, but then I change my mind and place it back, thinking better of it. Using Vincent’s gun will be too much of a red flag, raising alarms where I don’t want them. The blast of a gunshot would be impossible for the motel receptionist to ignore, and they would feel obligated in calling the cops. Even if this is the last neighborhood the men in blue want to visit, they would have to scope things out regardless—a scenario that neither they nor I am interested in.
No, a gun is definitely not the ideal weapon of choice considering all its repercussions. So, I’ll have to go with the next best thing. I bend down to my boots and retrieve a hunting knife I brought from home. If whoever is inside wants to harm me, then I’ll just have to gut them navel to chin, grab my stuff, and walk away.
My fight-or-flight response kicks in from both sides of the spectrum. Logic tells me I should run away now before I make my presence known. But the picture carefully hidden inside those four walls is what fuels my drive to kill whoever might discover it. If they do a good enough job at ransacking my room, they’ll be sure to find it and go back to their employer with information too precious for them to hold. I shouldn’t have brought it with me in the first place, but logic had no say when the heart was taking the lead.
I made a conscious effort at having as little information on me as possible that could link me to Nashville and my life there. With only a burner phone on me, I was careful not to have any personal pictures there, in case someone jumped me unexpectedly. But love prevented me from coming to Chicago without his beautiful face cheering me on in my endeavor. It’s hard enough having to leave him behind as it is.
There is another faint clatter, and this time I can distinctly tell it’s the drawers in the wardrobe being opened one by one.
Good. That means the intruder’s back is to the door.
Thinking this to be the best way of meeting my opponent, I open and close the door behind me as quietly and as silently as I can muster. Frozen against it, my suspicions are proven correct. On bended knee, one of the Outfit’s men is thoroughly examining each drawer. The expensive Italian suit, unable to conceal the two Glocks underneath, is a dead giveaway of his intentions and origins. I’m unable to see much else but his broad back and rich olive skin on his neck. The rest is too hidden for me to say if we ever crossed paths before.
With my blade in hand, I walk surely to the stranger, taking advantage of his kneeled position. Knife to the neck, I surprise him, making sure I keep the razor-sharp edge on his Adam’s apple as my greeting card.
“Don’t move,” I warn, as I look to the bed to see if it has been messed with yet.
I wasn’t foolish enough to put his picture under the mattress. Instead, I carved a small slit on one of its corners and placed it inside. Most people wouldn’t think of moving the bed in its entirety but settle with going straight to the mattress, overturning it completely without giving it much inspection. Once they saw nothing was underneath, they would move to a new spot to investigate. At least that’s what I was hoping for.
I feel my burglar stiffen, and I’m glad my voice had enough of a menacing quality for him to get the message that he messed with the wrong woman.
“Who sent you?’” I ask, wanting to know who is aware of my presence in Chicago, aside from the visits I have made.
I’ve been nothing but careful in staying under the radar of my father and especially the Outfit’s new underboss. If either one knows I’m here, then all my efforts have been for not, since I’m as good as dead. A little chuckle comes out of my assailant, his body relaxing against mine, and my patience starts to wear thin with his smugness.
“You think this is a joke? Trust me, I have no qualms in slicing you up right now. Tell me who sent you and I might just spare your life,” I murmur sinisterly in his ear, invoking the memory of the voice my father loved to use when shelling out threats.
Let him think if he cooperates with me and gives me a name, I’ll be swayed to leave him be. I won’t, of course, but I see no need in getting the beast of a man agitated with the realization he’s about to take his last breath in this world.
“I see you’ve picked up some new tricks, bella . I wonder what else you’ve learned these past few years,” he chuckles.
The familiar voice that comes out of the would-be stranger makes my heart jump in relief and joy. Yet, I keep my knife exactly where it is—on the sly prankster’s throat.
“These aren’t new tricks, Giovanni. Dom taught me how to use a knife the minute he was able to get away with it,” I hush in his ear, and see the hairs on the nape of his neck prickle to life.
“I see. So you’re full of surprises,” Gio sing-songs, tilting his head to the side. Seeing his cocky, sexy grin instantly does something to me.
“So are you. Most people call before coming over. Not ransack their motel room,” I counter, gaining a nonchalant shrug from the boy I gave my heart to when I was barely old enough to know what love was.
“I’m not most people, principessa . You, of all people, should know that.”
My smile grows wide at his snarky comment. Elation overwhelms me by having him so close once again. But this feeling is fleeting as he reverses our positions, and in one fast turn, he gets free from under me, taking the knife away from my grasp, and pinning it to my own neck.
“I guess Dominic didn’t teach you everything, huh? Still need some schooling, bella ,” he murmurs in my ear, mimicking me, and my spine stiffens at his taunt.
“Give me my knife back, and I’ll show you just how much of an education I have,” I reply, overly sweet.
The cold blade starts to wander down from my throat, moving its way to my chest, only stopping when it touches one of my keen nipples, which are hard as diamonds just from Gio’s proximity alone.
“Now, why should I do that? When I’d much prefer to educate you myself with all the lessons you are lacking.”
My breathing peaks and I start to hyperventilate when the jagged edge toys with my nipple to the point of pain. I feel my core soak with his breath in my ear and his manly scent all around me. I lick my lips, desperately wanting to turn around and see the man I have been dreaming about since as far back as I can remember. I lean back against him and feel his hard shaft caress my ass, making my eyes turn to slits with erotic images dancing in my mind. My pulse quickens further when he starts to move against me.
“You smell just as incredible as the day you left me—freshly crushed roses with a hint of vanilla,” he whispers, and my senses heighten when I feel his tongue reach out to the small place behind my ear and trail down toward my long neck.
“Taste just as sweet, too,” he groans, and my heartbeat gallops when I give in to the madness and find myself grinding back to the same tempo as his engorged cock.
“Gio,” I pant, trying to slow things down and accelerate them all at once.
“What is it, principessa ?” he hushes in my ear, before biting my tender lobe and sending shockwaves of rapture all over my body.
God, I missed him so much.
The knife in his hand continues its sweet, torturous caress alongside my aching breasts. With a swift twist of the wrist, Gio cuts my blouse buttons one by one, in rapid speed. With my shirt hanging open, my black, lace bra is fully exposed, showing my heaving chest and the effect he still has on me.
In one quick swoop, he moves me to lean against the cheap piece of furniture next to us, and that’s when my eyes finally appreciate the man behind me. My Gio stares back at me through the boudoir mirror, with blazing heat in his eyes.
“Hi, bella .”
He winks to the mirror as he slides my shirt off my shoulders and zips down my black skirt, pushing it to the ground. I continue to look in the mirror, seeing myself in nothing but black lingerie, and the astute man behind me, immaculately dressed in his suit with my knife never once leaving his hand. His body keeps me in place; even if I wanted to move, he isn’t giving me much of a chance.
“I must say, this is a sight I wasn’t expecting to behold so soon. But one thing you taught me was to never leave for tomorrow what you can do today,” he announces with pure erotic tones.
“Hmm,” I sigh when I feel my bra fall to the ground with three precise slices of a knife, followed with the same expert cuts being done to my panties.
And just like that, in twenty seconds flat, he has me bare naked and under his total control.
“Gio,” I begin to say, trying to think of any rational thought to stop this, but my body craves him as much as my heart does.
“Shh, bella . The time for words and lies will come. Right now, all I’m interested in is getting what’s been promised to me,” he whispers, placing a tender kiss on the hollow of my throat.
“Promised?” I rasp, and before I can utter another word, I feel his adept fingers caress my pussy, making me lean my head on his broad shoulder to relish the intimate touch.
“Yes, principessa . Last time I was alone with you, I had promised to myself that I wouldn’t falter, should I ever have another opportunity. And you know me, I always keep my promises,” he replies steadfast, locking his gaze with mine.
“So do I,” I retort, gaining another mischievous smile from my curly-haired mafioso .
He moves his fingers just an inch higher to strum my clit to a delicious tempo, making my skin hum in delight.
“Still, I am nothing if not a gentleman. One word from you and I’ll break my oath,” he adds seriously.
My moan and my damp lips betray any word of denial I might be willing to spew. I rock against his hand, already so close to oblivion that I’m grateful when it disappears—only to be replaced by a sharp pain slicing me in two with his first thrust inside me. The pain is surreal, and my brows pinch together, wishing to pull it back, wanting his hands back on me.
“Fuck! How the fuck can you still be so tight?” he grunts into my neck.
A whimper leaves my lips, and that’s all it takes to bring his eyes back to me. Through the mirror’s reflection, he watches our entwined bodies and my pained expression.
“It’s okay, bella . I know how to make this better,” he coos, finally dropping the knife to the ground and holding my hip with one hand, while the other peruses the creamy skin in my center.
“You’re so wet, principessa . Your body is begging me to give you every last inch of me,” he groans into my neck, always so careful to keep our eyes locked together.
“What? You mean you’re not in already?” I ask, a bit frightened. But Gio, being Gio, just laughs.
“Barely the tip, sweetheart.”
“Fuck me,” I whisper.
“That’s what I’m aiming for. Just keep still for a minute and grab on tight. Don’t move a muscle,” he orders and then falls to his knees.
His tongue goes straight to the ache and laps at my wet core in earnest, leaving me to become a mumbling fool.
“Oh, God.”
“It feels so good.”
“Oh, God! Gio!”
He continues to lick mercilessly, and when I can’t take it anymore, his finger finds my center as he continues to get his fill.
“Damn, you taste delicious everywhere, but this right here, is the best part,” he grunts, savoring every part of me while diving in with another digit, stretching me out so heavenly.
The sting is no longer as intense, and before long I begin to sway and yearn for him to be inside me. But before I can beg him to, he touches a spot within me, and I swear I see flashing lights in my peripheral.
“OH, GOD!!!”
“Cum, bella. I want to drink it all up,” Gio commands.
I wail a high pitch scream as the orgasm hits me with full force, stripping away any reality but this one.
“Good girl,” he cajoles, standing back up and slapping one of my ass cheeks. My face turns pink, enthralled at his little show of dominance. “Such a good girl,” he continues, his brown eyes two dark pools of desire.
“Are you on the pill, bella ?” he queries, kissing my shoulder, while tenderly stroking my back.
Still too speechless and spent for words, I only nod.
“That’s good, Selene, because I’m not going to have anything between us. At least not here,” he hushes, placing another gentle kiss to the crook of my neck, as he parts my legs and places his cock at my entrance.
With one fierce push, he thrusts himself into me to the hilt, and the feeling of fullness is so grand that I’m seconds away from cumming all over again. Gio gives another slap to my rear, the sting bringing me back from the brink.
“I don’t recall saying you could cum again, bella . Patience is a virtue, and all that shit,” he adds mockingly, giving me another quick slap, and making my eyes roll to the back of my head with how good he feels.
Each impaling thrust brings me higher and higher. His iron grip on my hips is sure to leave a mark. Yet I welcome the pain, to keep me from floating away into oblivion.
“On second thought, fuck patience.” He growls like an untamed beast set free, and pounds mercilessly into me; I fear we might break the boudoir that’s keeping me steady. His breathing becomes as erratic as my own. Sweat covers my brow, as ravished moans leave my lips.
“Fuck! Cum, bella . Cum!” he orders in a pained cry, and I follow his command all too willingly, reaching the perfect state of nirvana, which I’ve only ever been able to achieve glimpses of. His loud cry of rapture keeps my heart from shattering so divinely.
Once both of us fall back from heaven’s grace, Gio turns me around, and my arms wrap themselves around his shoulders instinctively. I lean my head on his chest, blissfully content, listening to the beat of his heart.
“I hear you need our help,” Gio finally whispers, holding me tightly against his clothed form. We made love for the first time, and I’ve yet to feel his naked skin against mine.
“I do. I need you to,” I begin to murmur, but Gio places his finger over my lips, stopping me from saying another word, and sets a gentle kiss on my temple.
“You’ll tell me all about those needs in the morning, principessa . Tonight I’d much rather satisfy my own, if you don’t mind,” he teases softly.
“I was under the impression you’d have satisfied those needs just fine without me.” I smile shyly, but the tinge of regret and bitterness still comes through.
“A man can fuck a thousand women and never be fully satisfied when all he really wants and dreams about is one in particular. Tonight that is exactly what I plan to do. Make love to my girl—the only one that ever meant something to me,” he whispers tenderly.
“Am I still your girl, Gio?”
“You never stopped being, bella ,” he confesses and presses his plump, soft lips against mine, sealing any unspoken words behind them.