27. Deanna
DEANNA
Prime’s waiting on the back porch when I get home. He’s got a glass of bourbon clutched between his hands and wine poured for me. I’m not sure what to say, and keep seeing that dead man, all the blood and brains on the wall, and Prime’s calm, quiet strength.
“Carbone came to my house.”
He stiffens. His hands grip the glass tighter, knuckles whitening. “What did he want?”
I tell him everything. The only part I leave out is when I admitted to falling in love with him. I know it was true, and I still feel it right now, but I’m not ready to go there yet.
Prime finishes his drink and paces. There’s a slight breeze and it feels nice. I collapse into a chair as the clouds turn pink with the sunset.
“They were feeling you out. You did good, Deanna.”
“I can’t do it again.” I close my eyes and can almost feel Carbone’s gaze on me. “He was terrifying.”
“I know.” Prime kneels by my side and takes my hand in both of his. “But you did good.” He kisses my knuckles. “I didn’t want this for you, I swear.”
“It isn’t your fault. I basically forced my way into your business.”
“I should have known better than to bring you though.”
“Prime, it’s okay.”
“It’s not.” He kisses my hand again. “You weren’t supposed to see what I did.
It’s who I am, Deanna, it’s who I’ve always been, but when I’m with you…
” He trails off, chin lifting. There’s a desperate hunger in the way he looks at me that sends a shiver down my spine.
“I want to be better. Or at least I want to be different. All my life I’ve been driven by only one thing: power.
The more power I have, the closer I can get to righting all my wrongs, and Fontana’s been one of the biggest. I hate him for what he did and I plan on seeing him bleed, but you make me feel like there’s something to fight for afterward. ”
“Maybe… maybe there’s another way. Something… something we can do.”
He touches my cheek. “I want you. God, I want you so badly, it’s like every morning I wake up and think I’m still dreaming, but there you are lying in my bed.
I’ve wanted you for years, Deanna, ever since I hired you, but I refused to let myself get distracted.
I’m death, I only ever hurt people I care about, so I never let myself care.
I thought I could handle being your husband, but I was so fucking wrong. ”
“Prime, I wanted you too. Why do you think I was… you know… on your pool table?”
“I thought that was your childish way of punishing me for making you work that weekend.”
“Well, it was, but I could’ve thought up a dozen different methods instead of… you know…”
“I’m going to fix this, Deanna. I swear I will.” He kisses me. I whimper, afraid of him but wanting him too, what I said to Carbone still ringing in my ears. I love him.
“I know you will.”
He kisses me again and this time it lingers. I’m desperate for comfort, to feel something good, and shift in my chair to face him. He stands, pulling me to my feet, and I wrap my arms around his neck, getting on my toes to reach his mouth as my tongue plunges between his lips.
Fear from my meeting with Carbone lingers as I dive against Prime.
His arms pull me tight to his warm chest and I kiss him with everything I can, doing my best to wash away the negative emotions still whirling around my head.
I know who Prime is now and I can see him for what he wants to be, and I didn’t lie when I said those words.
They burn in me now as I tug at his belt, unbuckling it, kissing him hard and turning him, pulling open his trousers and slipping my hand inside.
“Fuck, Deanna,” he says, his voice thick with desire as I stroke his big dick. I love the way he gets hard under my touch. “You fucking kill me, baby.”
“I need this.” I stroke him faster before dropping to my knees.
“Deanna—“
“Shut up and let me.” I yank down his pants and underwear, his cock rock hard by the time I take it in my fist. I sit up and lick his tip, swirling tongue around his slit and tasting as I suck him slow at first. His fist curls into my hair and his eyes are glassy with pleasure as my spit rolls down his shaft.
“Fuck, baby,” he moans as I suck him deeper, going as far as I can. He’s huge and he hits the back of my throat, making me gag as I pull back, gasping for air. “Look at you on your knees. So fucking pretty.”
“More.” I take him into my mouth, sucking hard. He snarls, thrusting into my lips. I pull back again, panting. “More, Prime.”
He fucks my mouth, driving between my lips. My spit slides down his dick, gathering around his balls, dripping onto the pavement. He roars with bliss as I slip a hand between my legs and start stroking myself, moaning on his dick as I do it, pleasure building in my core.
But he doesn’t keep me down on my knees for long. He drags me up and kisses me, hammering his mouth to mine, kissing hard and hungry as he manhandles me by the hair, hauling me over to the outdoors table. I yelp as he turns me, pins me down against the top of it, viciously pulling down my pants.
His palm smacks into my ass before his fingers stroke between my legs.
“Look at you baby, you’ve gotten my dick all drenched with your spit. You want to forget everything? You want me to fuck you until you can’t think?”
“Please, Prime,” I groan, looking over my shoulder. His eyes are dark with desire and a thrill runs into my spine as he presses his tip to my entrance.
His grip on my hair tightens as he slowly slides into me, his thick shaft stretching me wide.
Fuuuuck, that feels so good. I arch into him, moaning his name as he fills me to breaking. One stroke back out and another in, slamming hard, making me groan his name as he fucks me from behind.
“God damn it Deanna, every fucking inch of you is bliss.” He squeezes my hips as he fucks me faster, stroking in nice and deep, the table rattling.
“More,” I plead because that’s all I can think of right now. I want the stain of Carbone washed off my skin. I want it replaced with the bliss of Prime instead.
He gives me what I want. Every inch of his big dick drives harder, hammering into me. He fucks me like there’s nothing else in the world. When I cry out, he pulls back and forces me down on my knees again. “Lick my cock clean and ask nicely for more.”
I whimper, sucking him eagerly, pulse hammering. “More, please, more,” I beg as I clean his shaft with my mouth, licking my juices from him.
He moans as I do it, expression burning with need.
When I start to touch myself again, he pulls me to my feet, one hand on my throat as he pins me against the glass sliding door.
He kisses me as his other hand shoves roughly up my top, teasing my breasts before lifting one leg up, hooking an elbow around my knee, giving him enough space to drive deep into my pussy.
He grinds into me. I groan as he slams in deep and kisses me, biting my lower lip. The other hand increases its pressure on my throat, controlling, reminding me that I’m his, all of me is his.
“I want to watch you while you come,” he snarls, and there’s a note of wild, reckless abandon to him now, a slight quaver I’ve never heard before. He fucks me rough and deep before letting me go and turning me around again, forcing my hands up above my head, palms flat on the cold glass.
He glides into me again, this time taking me like he owns me.
I’m so lost I can’t think of anything but him filling me again and again, driving in deep, my back arching and hips bucking to take him more, deeper, more and more, and I’m whimpering and moaning his name, sweat dripping down my spine.
He licks my shoulders, bites my back, spanks my ass and grabs my hair tight, grinding deep, growling and out of control as he fucks me.
“Every inch of you is mine, Deanna, my fucking wife,” he breathes. “God you feel so good. I don’t know how much longer I can handle this, baby. I want to fill you to the fucking brim.”
“Oh god yes,” I gasp, using my hands on the door to push against him harder. “Keep going.”
I cry out as he spanks me rough and raw and his moans of pleasure and the way he sounds like he can’t hold on rips me in half.
All my triggers pull as the orgasm builds and builds in my core, breaking me to pieces.
I shatter on his massive cock, legs shaking as he continues to fuck me harder through it, and his warm breath on my neck as he kisses me and moans my name is the most incredible I’ve ever felt in my life.
“Fuck baby,” he whispers, sliding himself out of me and stepping back. His cock twitches, slick with cum. My heart’s racing so fast I feel like I might pass out. “Look at you. Such a good girl.” He kisses me, thumb tracing a line down my chin before moving into my mouth. I suck it eagerly.
“Did I do good?”
“So fucking good.”
“You’re happy?”
“When I’m with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”
I grin like an idiot and kiss him, holding him tightly in the back yard, wondering dimly if anyone heard me screaming in bliss. Probably, and I don’t care.
He drags me inside and up into the shower.
We clean each other, taking our time. Some of the horror of the last day slides down the drain with the soap, and when we’re done, he wraps me in a big fluffy robe, kisses my lips, and promises to make me dinner.
I finally accept that glass of wine and sprawl on the couch.
“Careful,” he warns, eyes sliding down my legs to where the front of the robe hangs open. “You’re not wearing panties. You sit like that and you’re liable to get fucked again.”
“Promise?” I spread wider for him and his mouth opens hungrily. “Oh no, you’re giving me that look.”
“Which one?”
“The one that leads to very bad things.”
“Which is entirely your own fault, love.” He takes a step toward me with some very nasty business on his mind, but instead stops when his phone starts to ring. He frowns at the screen, prepared to toss it away, but catches himself and turns it toward me.
“Ricardo’s calling,” he says grimly. “I should answer.”
“Put it on speaker.” I shut my legs and sit up straight, tension tingling down into my extremities.
He sits and accepts the call. “Hello, Ricardo. How are things?”
“Things are great!” Ricardo sounds genuinely happy, which is a surprise. “Actually, I just heard from Marco. There’s another invitation waiting for you, direct from Mr. F himself.”
Prime’s eyebrows shoot up. I feel an odd pulse in my stomach, a smattering of butterflies and terror.
“I’m surprised, considering what happened at our last meeting,” Prime admits.
“You know, these things happen, my friend. To be honest, Frankie was not the most loved person in the world, to put it very mildly. We’re still looking for the perpetrator, but you know how it goes. At any rate, do you want to visit Mr. F at his home tomorrow night?”
That makes Prime’s jaw drop straight down.
Fontana’s home. That’s the Holy Grail. It’s what we’ve been after from the start. And now here it is, being dangled in front of us, and Prime looks pale like he can barely think.
“I’d be happy to meet with him,” Prime manages to say, but all this feels wrong. I tighten my robe, hugging my body, not sure what to think.
“Wonderful! A driver will pick you up tomorrow evening around six. Bring that wife of yours.”
Prime glances at me, his face darkening. “I’m sorry, but Deanna’s not available.”
“Ah, you see, Deanna is explicitly invited.” Ricardo sounds apologetic. “I think Mr. F wants the wives to get together, if you know what I mean. Ha ha, don’t worry! It’ll be great. I’m sure Deanna can reschedule whatever she has going on.”
“I’m not sure?—“
“She’s not a request, Prime. It’s you and the wife, or none of you at all.”
Prime’s jaw works. I touch his shoulder and nod but he refuses to look at me. There’s a war inside him, a struggle against himself. I lean forward, mouth to his ear. “I’ll do it,” I whisper, kissing him, nibbling.
His eyes shut. His shoulders lock. Every inch of him is tension.
“We’ll see you then,” Prime grinds out.
“A different driver this time. Sorry about that. But I’ll let them know. Have a good time!”
Ricardo hangs up. Prime throws the phone across the room and stands, cursing as he stalks away. I watch him, chewing my lip.
“Prime—“
“No, not right now.” He holds up a hand, eyes squeezed shut. “I want to have a good evening together. I want you to relax.”
“But Prime?—“
“No, Deanna. I’m going to cook for you. I’m going to rub your feet and fuck you until you can’t breathe. We’re going to forget business for a few hours. Tomorrow, we’ll deal with it. But right now?”
He visibly forces himself to relax, shaking his hands, before sitting down beside me.
“Right now, it’s us,” I say, kissing him, touching his cheek.
“It’s us,” he agrees.