Chapter 3 Constantine #2
It was almost midnight when I got home. I’d settled the dispute between Lorenzo and Marco.
Marco’s accusation had been correct. Lorenzo had been cutting his product with fentanyl to lower the costs, but he’d put in such a trace amount that it didn’t have a drastic impact on his customers.
But that didn’t matter—because he’d still violated the laws of the Roman Republic.
So Lorenzo was shot and burned in a furnace, and Marco got to absorb his business.
My job was done.
I walked through the enormous thirty-foot doors, entered the entryway with my statues from Egypt, and strolled past the sculpture of the Eye of Horus before I moved into the second entryway, where the stairs were located.
Elio emerged to greet me, always knowing when I was home because my security team alerted him the instant I approached the property. “Good evening, Your Highness.”
“I’d like dinner in my chambers—for two.”
“Of course.” He gave a slight bow.
I headed up the flights of stairs until I reached my private corridor of the residence.
It was blocked by a set of mahogany doors outlined with gold.
None of the staff was permitted to enter the corridor without Elio’s supervision.
As a result, whenever I was home, I didn’t have to see or speak to anyone as long as I stayed within that part of the villa.
The hallway had other guest rooms, a private gym, one of my collection rooms, and my office.
I walked down the long corridor and found the double gold doors that led to my primary suite. The doors were heavy, and that was by design—because no one was getting in there if they weren’t welcome.
When I stepped into the entryway, I heard Medusa run from the other room and beeline for me.
“Hey, baby girl.” I knelt down and let her climb up me slightly as I greeted her with lots of pets and a kiss on the head. I stood up, then pulled my gun from the back of my jeans and left it on the round table next to the vase of flowers.
When I moved to the open doorway leading into the next section of the suite, Aurelia appeared in nothing but one of my T-shirts.
God, that was sexier than the finest French lingerie.
I felt the grin lift into my mouth as I walked over her, my arms circling her as I pulled her into me, significantly shorter without her five-inch heels to give her some lift.
I pulled her flush against my chest and kissed her, my mouth melting against the warmth of her lips, immediately sucked into this magnetic chemistry we had.
I slid my hand into her soft hair, grazed the delicate skin of her neck, and I kissed her with a gentleness I didn’t know I had.
Fuck, this woman did some shit to me.
I was dead tired after all the stuff I’d had to handle today, but all of that left my mind at the sight of her. I lifted her into me, her long legs hooking around my waist, and I carried her to the big bed I normally only shared with Medusa.
I laid her back, rolling on top of her, loving how loosely my shirt fit her lithe body.
Her makeup was gone, like she’d already been in bed when I walked in the door, and that natural look was a turn-on for me.
Not just because she was so damn beautiful she didn’t need makeup, but because it felt .
. . intimate. She wasn’t a woman who was gone before the morning light hit the windows.
My bed was her bed, so she helped herself to my clothes and my bathroom and made herself at home.
That turned me the fuck on.
I lifted up her shirt and found her little thong, pulling it off her sexy legs that I could stare at for days. Then I bent her legs back and dropped my face between her thighs to kiss that perfect little pussy.
She inhaled a deep gasp when she felt me come for her hard, with my lips, tongue, and even a bit of my teeth.
The urge to have her, eat her, and inhale her came over me, and with my hard dick pinned between me and the mattress, I went to town on her flesh.
It wasn’t something I normally did, not when my conquests were mostly transactional and purely physical, but with her, I wanted to drown in it. In her smell, her taste, her softness.
Her fingers dug into my hair, and she gently rocked into my face.
She pulled up her shirt to expose her tits like she was warm from the flush of heat that burned her flesh.
She ground and moaned, and even when I didn’t mean to make it happen, she came with a whimper like the rush was as pleasurable as it was painful.
I could eat her for fucking dinner, but my dick was about to throw a tantrum.
It wanted to slide through the cream of my labor.
I lifted my body and yanked my shirt free before I got my boots and bottoms off.
My dick was so fucking hard it hurt. I moved over her, pinned her like the flexible doll she was, and shoved my hard dick inside her with a moan that made my spine shiver.
I nailed her into the mattress, pounded into her like she was a whore instead of my woman, so desperate for her I couldn’t control myself. I felt like a boy instead of a man, desperate to come inside that pussy as many times as her little body could take.