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Mine.
I took another large gulp from the tumbler, followed by a hard drag on the lit cigarette hanging between my fingers, burning close to half of it in one single inhale.
She was ruining me without knowing it.
The gold band on my ring finger had been covered in her, the sweet scent still lingering on my skin. I couldn’t stop twisting it with my thumb, content that I had trapped the firebird in my cage.
I’d purposely fucked her with it, making sure to dip the symbol of our ruin into her, over and over again, until her pussy gushed with the truth her lips concealed.
I had come to the bar to calm down, planning on going back up after I had, but the edge wasn’t shaking off. Francesca’s moans were echoing in a loop in my mind, and I couldn’t make it stop. I had already taken a year off my life from the constant string of nicotine I inhaled, one cigarette after the other, and nothing had quelled my greed for her.
This obsession was frightening, and mafiosi don’t scare easily. So I did the only thing I could for now, shoved it to the back of my mind with another glass of Macallan and watched the sunrise from that library I’d found her in.
Sleeping was a myth on a good day. Today? When not even the richest of malts could erase the taste of her from my tongue, it was a fallacy.
It was a breath past 7 a.m. and I couldn’t avoid it, or her, any longer. The jet was scheduled to leave early, and we would soon need to get going.
I was in desperate need of a shower and breakfast. My dress shirt smelled like smoke and gunpowder, and I was barely running on the remnants of whiskey that scurried my veins. It had no effect on me, though. I knew my limit, the control thing and all.
When I got up to our suite, I was surprised to be welcomed into an empty space, Francesca nowhere to be seen. I let myself fall face-first on the mattress, groaning my frustration into the silky sheets.
Fuck!
One hard inhale was all it took for my senses to go into overdrive and for my cock to harden. The bedding was drenched in her scent, and the mere thought of Francesca lying here naked had me ready to go. I let my hand snake under the weight of my body, palming my cock to ease the need to fuck my fist to the thought of her.
Murphy and his fucking laws.
Francesca burst into the room wearing the tightest, shortest pair of shorts, a sports bra, and nothing else but a glint of sweat coating the rest of her exposed skin.
My eyes hungrily took every inch of her in through the mirror in front of me, painting a mental picture of the goddess that had stopped in her tracks, my hand tightening its grasp around my very hard erection.
Every muscle in my body clenched into a mass of fury. How many fucking men had seen her walking around with hardly anything on?
Francesca made her way around the bed, standing right in front of my face, acknowledging my presence with a low-tuned grunt of disapproval.
I forced my eyes away from her, burying my face in the sheets once more, cussing out the irrational ire poisoning me from within. Before I could get my shit together, Francesca’s shoes hit the floor with more force than needed. This time, I turned my head towards her, meeting her gaze.
That was the only time she looked directly into my eyes.
After that, it was as if I wasn’t even in the damn room. Francesca took off her sports bra without so much as a tint of a blush. She threw it onto the floor while I instinctively rolled over, admiring the view of her perfection with a stupid grin plastered onto my face. My palm rubbed the bulge in my pants, completely unashamed of the state she had me in. Francesca didn’t even care that I was looking at her. Stupidly staring might have been more accurate.
My cock twitched again as I watched her pull her hair tie and shake out her long hair. I was frozen in my spot, waiting for her to come to me. Fuck I couldn’t wait to bury myself inside her, taste her defiance from within.
Slowly, Francesca turned her back to me, pulling her shorts and underwear off with both hands, sliding them down her legs until she touched her ankles, leaving me with a perfect view of her perked ass and juicy pussy. I thought I was hard before, but now I was a fucking rock, growing impatient by all her teasing.
She stood up straight, devilishly peeked over her shoulder, looking straight at my hard cock trapped under my hand, and headed to the bathroom. In under a second, all my clothes were on the floor before I followed her to the bathroom.
You’re not escaping me now, Gattina.
All the built-up tension was bound to be released, and I couldn't hold back any longer. Not with the way she was teasing me and alluring me to taste her. To claim her. To fuck her.
I put my hand on the doorknob, turning and twisting, only to find that it was locked.
IT WAS FUCKING LOCKED!
“FRANCESCA! OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR!" I shouted, my fist banging on the damn thing. What the fuck was she doing? “FRANCESCA!”
“I can't hear you. Your mouth is too full of bullshit," she calmly yelled back.
