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Stepping out, I carried her to the black, tufted studded bench in the center of the bathroom. Gently laying her back, I fucked her deep and slow. Neither of us tried to stifle the noise as our moans ricocheted off the walls. I took her bottom lip between my teeth, sucking it into my mouth. Her nails scraped down my body once again. She dragged them past my chest and traced my ab muscles.
Clenching at the sensation, I growled under my breath. She smiled against my mouth. I let her lip go and she pinned it between her teeth.
“Rub your clit until you cum all over my cock.”
Promptly, she moved her hand down between us, massaging herself as I had ordered. Her gaze was fixated on me for only a second before the walls of her tight pussy constricted me even stronger. Her eyes rolled back, her body began to tremble.
“Don’t stop.” I pushed deeper and harder into her tunnel.
“Fuckkkk, yessss. Cum inside me now.” She begged. She was desperate to feel it.
I did not feel like torturing her tonight. “Here it comes, baby.”
Her moans turned into screams as they always did when she let herself lose all control. My body soon gave in to her need as I shot ropes of cum against her cervix. I took her hand from her clit and pressed it to my lips, giving her a gentle kiss before I collapsed on top of her, being careful not to put too much weight on the baby. It was something I was paranoid about even when lost in the moment.
“Do not tell Tanya you murdered that dress.” Isabelle snickered through her panting.
I lifted up, propping up on one of my palms. “We paid for that dress. It will be fine.”
“I meant the sentimental value of it.” She rolled her eyes.
Mimicking her, I rolled my eyes also as I stood and stretched out my hand to help her up. She stood and confusion appeared on our faces as we glanced around. Neither of us had noticed while we were busy, that the bench had inched across the room, ending up near the opposite wall.
“Let’s dry off and go to bed.” I took her hand in mine, tugging her toward the towels, but she did not budge. I turned around. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to shower off now.”
An evil smirk appeared on my face.
“Really?” She snorted. “You’re going to make me sleep with it in me?”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
Smiling she shook her head. “Nope.”
I grabbed a cleaned towel and tossed it toward her. She caught it mid-air.
“Good. I’ll be nice and let you wipe some of it off though.”
It was a week before the annual masquerade. I had returned to the office, and had been in meetings all morning before I was due at the hotel to take one final look at the event before next weekend. Just as I strode into the conference room for my final morning meeting, I glanced around at the familiar faces sitting at the large oval table in the middle of the room. The faces of the other Dons and high-ranking men in our area and other states which I held agreements with. Agreements of peace. Some were my closest friends, while others were simply my allies.
All attended the event every year. The week before, we would always gather at my office and have brunch while we discussed any changes involving the event. It was also the time when they pledged their donations to the foundations we supported. This time, we skipped brunch as the meeting would be shorter than normal. We all had other places to been soon.
It was a risky meeting especially when the media caught wind of it. The news would speculate the reason in the evening on the television, thus rousing the rival families. For several weeks, they would have us followed, watching and waiting for one of us to attack.
I ambled past the ceiling to floor windows. “Good morning, gentleman.” I greeted as I came to a stop at the head of the table.
All reciprocated my greeting as I unbuttoned my jacket and took a seat. One of my employees stepped over, pouring me a glass of water before she sashayed toward the door. A couple of the men turned their head to watch her. Joseph opened the door for her as she neared and closed it behind her. He then nodded at me, indicating we were all clear to speak freely.
“When’s the wedding, Greco?” A leader of the Irish Mafia in Boston, Ian Knight, inquired as he placed his own water glass to his lips with a grin.
“We haven’t set a date just yet.”
“I hope we’ll all be invited.”
I subtly bowed my head, unsure how to respond. Isabelle and I had not discussed all the dangerous people who would want to attend our big day. Even though we were all on civil terms, I knew approaching her and asking if she would be okay inviting fifteen crime bosses and drug lords to the wedding might make her uncomfortable. For now, I would push the thought aside and focus on the reason for the meeting.
“Security will be tighter this year than in previous years, so I don’t want any of you to get alarmed by it.” I slid my chair tighter into the table and folded my hands on the surface. “There has been a situation I’m not quite comfortable with. Itisin the process of being handled, though. Most of it has been already, but I’m still having suspicions about it.”
