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I stroked him faster before moving back away from him. I stared into his eyes as he looked up and down my skin, his gaze lingering on my breasts. I turned around slowly, spread my legs for him, arched my back. I looked over my shoulder and bit my lip as his cock got rock hard, quivering with need for me.
He stepped up and pressed his cock against my dripping wet pussy and slid himself deep inside.
I gasped and moaned his name. “Steven,” I said. “Oh god, yes.”
He pushed himself deep inside. I felt wild with pain, pleasure, fear, excitement. I felt like I might be sick, or I might come any second. He pulled my hair and kissed me over my shoulder as he began to fuck me, his strong hands dominated me, gripped my hips and moved me. I worked my back and bucked against his shaft, rode him up and down, moaned his name over and over again.
Pleasure flooded me, forced out the image of Davide’s head snapping forward then slamming back, of his body slumping forward as blood covered my hands. I moaned and reached back to kiss Steven as he fucked me faster, his hands hard on my hips. He slapped my ass and slammed himself inside of me, taking me like an animal, taking me like a monster.
He teased my breasts from behind as he fucked me faster and faster. I gasped, arching my back. He grabbed my hair and took me, sliding deeper, his body massive behind mine. I felt overwhelmed and dominated, and I kept saying his name as the only thing I could feel was pleasure. All the horror was gone, all the blood was gone, washed away down the drain, taken away by Steven’s cock, his hands, his lips.
I gasped as I felt my orgasm peak. I came as he slid himself deep inside. He growled in my ear and thrust faster, pushing me over my limits as my fingers curled against the tile wall. I shook, shuddered, moaned his name as he slammed into me again and again. His roar drove me wild and I felt my orgasm crest and slowly fade.
He slid himself back and turned me around. I dropped to my knees as he stroked himself. I took him into my mouth, sucked him three times, sliding him deep into my throat, and he came on the fourth. He filled my mouth and I moaned, swallowed him, his massive cock twitching on my lips. I licked him clean before he pulled me up and pinned me against the tile wall again. He kissed me, tongue against my tongue, and I held him tight.
We stood there in the shower, steam rising around us. I stared into his eyes and he held my hair in his palm, his other hand on my hip. His cock was still stiff as he stared at me.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I think so,” I said.
He clenched his jaw and I could see anger and pain in his eyes. I realized with a start that he just lost one of his soldiers, and I could only guess at the way he was feeling in that moment.
I reached up and touched his face.
“Go down there,” I said. “Go be with them.”
“I have to… have to take care of him. Get rid of his body. We’ll bury an empty casket, but he’ll get a funeral.” He let out a breath. “I’ll take care of his mother and his sister, too. They’ll never want for anything.”
“Good.” I kissed his neck. “Good, you’ll take care of everything.”
He pulled me away and his eyes roamed my body before he kissed me again then stepped out of the shower. He toweled himself off, gave me one last look, then left the room.
I watched him go then slid back down to the floor. I pulled my knees up to my chest and let the hot water flow down my head, down my shoulders, and into the drain.
When I closed my eyes, I saw Davide again, slumped forward and lifeless.17ColleenWe parked outside of a simple rowhome with a brick front facade and empty window boxes. The door was red and the stoop was in good shape, like it had been redone in the last few years. Steven stared at the door for a long moment before taking a deep breath.
“Do they know already?” I asked.
He nodded. “Luca told them right after it happened.”
“That’s good,” I said. “You don’t have to break it to them then.”
He didn’t smile, just kept staring. I followed his gaze and wondered about those window boxes. I wondered if they’d once held flowers, and if they were empty because the flowers had died, or if Davide’s mother just didn’t much care about filling them up anymore.
It had only been a day since the drive by and Davide’s death. I kept seeing him slumped forward, kept feeling the sticky blood on my face and skin. I couldn’t get it out of my head, and I knew Steven was torn up about it even if he refused to talk. I tried to bring it up, but he simply ignored me and pretended like he hadn’t heard what I said.
