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Then he tips me higher. I explode and collapse, tumbling, floating, expanding. Bursting into light.
I clench and grip him tight as he tunnels and I feel like he’s all the way through me and out of the top.
My eyes clamp shut and I bite on his neck as I tumble and fall, waves rise and crash and I splash and lose count and all sense of everything.
There’s nothing else. Only him and me. Me wrapped around him. Him in me.
Again.
And again.
When I stroke his hair and his face and tell him I need to rest a moment, he grins and says, “Sure.”
He rolls over. Pulls me up on top of him. His pelvis, his hard trunk between my stretched out thighs, his huge pole, hard and hot inside me, and the burn of his leering eyes, he knew I wouldn’t be able to stop.
“Bastard.”
He just laughs as my body starts to move. The roll of my ass against his hard thighs, the bounce of my tits and the scrape of my cunt in the wetness on his pubic bone, all of it makes me rock.
I lean down and bite his neck and his shoulders as my wet lips stretch and drag on the ridges of his cock. My hair tumbles in his face. His fingers run through my hair and stroke my face.
“You are fucking amazing,” he growls.
My teeth sink into him as I say, “You’re amazing fucking.” I hope he didn’t hear me.
He’s only beaten the crap out of the meanest motherfucker on the west coast and stolen his daughter in front of his very fucking eyes. I wouldn’t want him to get cocky.
Oh my god, what a fucking cock! It heats up and swells. I’m going over again. My body has to fuck him on auto. I’m gone.
His balls slap against my ass. My ass shakes and bounces. His cock scrapes mercilessly up my tenderest seam. I’m brimming, swelling to crack and overflow.
A bulge starts at the base of his cock. Then it flashes up and a hot fountain of lava blasts inside me. Then another. I’m shaking inside and out. My face is wet. Our bodies splash.
He calls my name.
At last.
At long fucking last.
He says my name.
And I’m spent. All I can do is grip him with my cunt to keep all his seed inside and kiss him. Wet and sloppy and mindless.
His name echoes in my head and it sounds like a miracle. I don’t even dare say it, in case it breaks the spell. I want to stay like this forever.
He holds me and waits until I wake up.
I ask him, “Why are you so fucking nice to me?”
He tells me, “I love to confuse you,” and his voice is like a warm blanket.
I take a kiss. He gives me one back. We kiss deep and tender. I don’t think I ever did that before. It’s like a breath of spring air. Then I remember. “My breath is probably foul. Sorry.” And I start to pull away.
“I love the breath of you. I love every part of you.”
“You hate me.”
“What can I say? I’m a complex guy.”
“Well, that’s true.”
“I’m also a funky and smelly guy. I’m going to take that shower.”
“Want me to scrub your back?”
“I’m sure we can find you something to scrub.”
Epilogue
Giovani
My phone rings. I want to ignore it, but it’s Dad. As I answer, I see he’s called a lot of times.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Leo said he was going to see you. I couldn’t get through, and you didn’t answer my texts or messages. I’ll admit, son, I was a little worried.”
“Sorry, Dad. I was, uh, I was kind of busy and I had my phone off.”
“Okay. So? Did you really have a meet with Leo Franconi?”
“Yup.”
“And. How did it go?”
“Pretty well, from my point of view. From his, I’d guess, not so much.”
Dad’s tone changes. “Son? what happened?”
“Well, I beat the crap out of him and I kicked him out of town.”
“Okay. Very funny. What happened really?”
I take a breath. “Well, I kicked him in the balls, I stabbed him in the foot, I may have dislocated his shoulder. Plus a few other odd cracks here and there. I told him he wasn’t going to come out here and fuck over any of the Vegas families.”
Dad pauses. His voice is quiet. “Seriously?”
“And I told him he’s got to hand the firm over to Lily.”
“The boss of a top L.A. mob family comes to Vegas, you maim him, and you tell him how he has to run his family business?”
There’s a longer pause.
Finally, he tells me, “Son, I’d say you have definitely stepped up. We need to review your position in the firm.”
I smile. “We’ll talk soon, Dad. There’s something I’ve got to do.” Before we hang up, I remember to say, “Dad, remember the ballerina? I won’t be marrying her, okay?”
