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Of course, if I was promised to Pavone, I’d want the person doing the promising dead, too.
“I was hoping for more of a reaction,” I say, smiling. “No, Angelo, please don’t hurt my father!Or maybe,yeah, fuck that bastard, I hope you gut him like a pig.” I do my best impression of her voice, which is really just me affecting a higher pitch.
“It’s not good for us to get everything we want in life. Wouldn’t want to spoil you.” And there’s a hint of her there, glimmering just beneath the surface, even though the faint smile on her lips doesn’t last long. Whatever happened with Victor, whatever she’s thinking about with Pavone, it has her off her game.
“Fine, so what do you want to talk about?” I resist the urge to massage her breasts again. They’re just the right size, and they’re begging for a hickey or three. I think Saint mentioned something about wanting to pierce her, too. But that’s for another time. “Favorite movies? Hobbies? The worst sex you ever had?”
“Are sex and violence the only things you think about?” she asks, pulling her knees up against her chest and resting her head on them as she wraps her arms around herself.
“Nope. When I’m not thinking of violence or sex, I’m wondering how the fuck I can prevent the aphids from attacking my roses.”
She looks up sharply at me at that, blinking. I’ve taken her truly off guard. “You’re doing what with what now?”
Finally, a reaction. Most people are shocked to find out I like gardening, like a professional hitman can’t have hobbies. “Most of the garden out back was my design. We’ve got gardeners to help maintain it, but those are my babies. And any flowers you see inside the house are my cuttings.” I sigh loudly. “The aphids are awful this year. It’s harder to kill them than most men.”
“What are aphids?” she asks—tentatively, like she’s not sure she should ask.
“Fucking awful, is what they are. They’re these tiny bugs that latch on to plant stems and leaves and suck the sap out, stunting growth. If you don’t get them fast, your plant’s leaves curl and there’s blemishes all over.” I remember how I’d found the roses the previous morning, aphids clustered around the new buds. “There’s poisons you can spray, but I want to keep it organic. So it’s neem oil and soapy water and constantly checking to make sure they haven’t come back in full force.”
She still looks surprised, but she offers a faint smile. “I have a hard time thinking about you fussing over flowers.”
“It’s kind of relaxing, just digging in the dirt and caring for the flowers. And takes a surprising amount of work. Let nobody tell you that gardening is easy.” A few men had tried to make fun of me for my hobby, but a few whacks with a shovel shuts them up fast.
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never tried to garden,” Lucia says.
It doesn’t surprise me that a pampered princess like Lucia hasn’t done proper work. But I’m not here to argue with her. “So what doyoudo for fun? I assume you do more than whore yourself out.”
She scowls at me for that. “Like you’ve never fucked women for fun before. Are you a man-whore, Angelo? Or were you a pristine virgin until I came along?”
She’s got me there. I laugh and kiss her temple. “I had a girlfriend a few years ago. After…” I pause. I don’t want to get into the whole thing with my brother. “After we broke up, I visited our escort clubs a few times. Don’t worry, I tipped them well.”
“What, couldn’t find anyone else who wanted you for your charm?” she asks, a bit dryly. “Had to go pay for sex or pressure someone for it?”
“I wasn’t really looking. I figured, if I just wanted to get off, I might as well pay somebody.” A few times, Victor and I went together. Ostensibly to oversee the club—and beat a few people into submission—but it turned out even Victor was human enough to want sex now and again. Not that I got to see exactly what Victor did with those girls. I hope he didn’t treat the merchandise the way he treats Lucia.
Lucia shakes her head. “So does it make you better that you paid for sex, or does it make me better that I’ve never had to?” She smirks, and it’s such a sexy look on her that I can’t help but lean in and kiss her. It’s rough and insistent, and at first, she doesn’t kiss back. But my hand goes to the back of her neck, and I pull her in closer to me.
I run my tongue along her bottom lip until she opens for me. It’s been a while since I kissed somebody like this. I’m not like Saint, kinking on kisses, but it’s surprisingly nice to have Lucia’s tongue caressing mine.
Pleasure starts to pool inside me, and suddenly I need to touch more of her. I growl and pull her into my lap again, facing me so we can keep kissing. I place one hand on her ass and the other on her breast, massaging both. Despite her earlier protests, Lucia doesn’t pull away from me. She doesn’t even stop kissing me.
I don’t know what her game is, exactly, but I had made it pretty clear that her time here was contingent upon her cooperation. In her situation, I’d probably do the same thing. Keep us happy, and we keep her longer—which means staying away from Pavone for longer. No doubt that’s what she’s thinking of, though I can’t help but think that me being a fantastic kisser has something to do with it.
I bet that if I trail my hands farther down, I’ll find her pretty shaved cunt wetter for me. She has such a delightfully responsive body, one I want to claim for my own—all right, one I want to share with Saint in particular, and Victor too, even if he seems determined to traumatize her for his own pleasure.
“Rub off against me,” I growl. “I want to feel your cunt dragging along my thigh.”
What I really want to do is take her hole—either one is fine, I don’t care at this point—but I’d said I wasn’t going to fuck her this time.
Lucia shakes her head, her cheeks flushing a dark shade of pink. She might be turned on, but she has some self-control. Whore that she is, apparently she thinks herself better than that. Or maybe she just doesn’t want to let me see how much I affect her, how much our kissing aroused her.
I make a frustrated noise and rearrange us so she’s on her back on the mattress and I’m atop her, my elbows on either side of her while I hold myself up. She squeaks in surprise, but I don’t give her time to adjust. I lower my mouth to her neck and suck a mark onto it. Her hands come up to grip my hair, but she doesn’t try to make me stop.
I’m insanely hard, imagining how she’ll look with my marks all over her skin. Imagining Saint’s and Victor’s reactions when they see her. That makes me want to leave more marks, to ensure that they know I was here. I want to fuck her, but even more than that, I want to leave a lasting impression.
I lean down again, sucking the side of her breast into my mouth and digging my teeth in, sucking and licking and biting until I know I’ve left another large, purpling mark. She’s moaning and squirming, and it’s all I can do not to dip my fingers between her folds and force her to come face to face with her arousal.
Instead, I continue to mark her, leaving hickeys all around her breasts. I stop only occasionally to take one of her nipples into my mouth and suck hard, nipping enough to hear her sharp intake of breath as she tries not to moan.
