Donna

9

I'M GOING KILL THIS MOTHER FUCKER.

"What the f**k do you mean, Juan? How can 100 kilos of coke disappear?"

The tatted man in front of me shakes his head remorsefully. He wasn't remorseful.

"Our shipment was attacked, our mules where killed, the product was stolen."

"By. Who?"

"Italians. Not sure which family, but Italians."

Fucking Italians...

"Fine. Fine. Get me more from the supplier, but do not spend anymore of my money."

"If he doesn't understand this...incident, convince him. If he cannot be convinced, kill him. I don't give a f**k how you do it, but get all of it."

He nods fearfully, standing to leave.

"Oh and Juan?"

He regards me cautiously.

"If I find out you took one milligram of my product, I am going to chop you up and give a body part to every one of your family members for Christmas."

Now if that's not motivation, I don't know what is!

Because I'll do it. I really hope he knows I'll do it.

IT'S ABOUT FIVE THIRTY WHEN I GET OUT OF THAT MEETING. So I stop by my house, get a pack of condoms, because, I hate kids. Even though I have to have at least one, I'm only 25, and, frankly, f**k no.

The address Roksana gave me is written in code, but it's not too hard to crack.

It's number to letters backwards.

So, the note says:

20 19. 25 5 14 4 15 18. EB

25 Rodney St. Is what I really says.

The twentieth letter of the alphabet is T.

The nineteenth is S.

The period means that is a complete part of the address.

Flip around you get ST. Street.

25 is Y.

5 is E.

14 is N.

4 is D.

15 is O.

18 is R.

Flip it around you get Rodney.

So Rodney St.

E is 5.

B is 2.

25 Rodney St.

Is your mind blown?

Shaking my head with a chuckle, I hope in my Maserati, and input her address into the GPS.

Took me one minute to decipher that. Just one.

THE DOOR IS OPEN, WHICH I FIND PECULIAR. I lock it behind me.

Roksana is no where to found but I am about ten minutes early.

I walk further into the house, my hand on the gun on my hip. Then I hear her raising her voice, which, frankly, I've never heard.

"Does it sound like I care Isadora? I love you, you are my sister, we are blood, but you are causing issues for me!"

"Ah ah, silenzioso. I am not accusing you, sorellina. But if you know who is calling these hits, tell me."

She puts her head in her hands, holding up the universal sign for one minute, at me.

I'm surprised she heard me coming.

"It's not my sector, okay, that's why I installed one of you for each sector so I wouldn't have to do this."

She listens to 'Isadora' ruefully sighing.

"Isa, I cannot just let you go. Sister or not, this is the Mafia, and if you want to leave you need to have a replacement that I approve of before I let you go."

She scoffs angrily.

"Hell no! Luciana is entirely too blood thirsty, and she's crazy as f**k and that's coming from me."

She shakes her head dryly rolling her eyes once more.

"Isa, no. Okay, a kid doesn't change the rules. And if you had told me, I could've dealt with it."

"I don't care if you tell him. He's my father, but I also happen to be a grown woman. Now get your hormones in check and find a replacement."

"Ti amo, sorellina."

She smiled, another thing, I don't see her do very often.

"Shut the f**k up, puttana you know you love me."

(b***h)

She grins happily, putting the phone down. Then she looks up at me, and that grin morphs into one of those fake ones.

"You're early."

"Would you rather I be late?"

She rolls her eyes at me, grinning slightly, a bit of happiness there.

"I'd rather you be on time. But you're too extreme for that."

All the while I have this banter, I can't help but to think that she is sticking to her word.

"You wanna be f****d or not?"

She stands from behind her desk, sashaying my way, putting her small hands in mine, leading me to what I assume is her room.

It's then I see what she's wearing-short and tight just like I asked.

I shrug off my suit jacket, take my watch off, my wallet, one of my guns, placing them all on her dresser.

"How does one go about initiating planned s*x?"

Shooting her an amused grin, I stalk over to her, where she's sprawled all over the bed. I lean over her body, in-between her legs.

She unbuttoned my dress shirt, throwing it somewhere.

Her dress is on the floor quicker than I could blink, leaving just me in clothes.

"Caro," Clawing at my back, she whines.

I oblige her, taking off my pants throwing them somewhere, then I'm back between her legs, kissing her roughly, ignoring her hips as they buck, trying to connect with mine.

Finally, she had enough, leaning up to take control, I grab her hands, intertwining our fingers and slam her back down, grinding against her.

"Down. Stay down."

Dipping down to kiss her, I languidly caress her lips, dipping my tongue in her mouth to taste her.

I tease her for a while, but eventually it gets to be torture for me.

Pinning her wrists down with one of my hands, I take my c**k in the other.

"Birth control?"

She nods frantically, bucking wildly. I give her a mean look, cold and full of warning.

Angry but compliant, she keeps relatively still.

Once she does what I told her to, I take my c**k, tap her slit, smack her c**t with it. And when she least expects it, I throttle into her, the look of pain on her face so sweet.

Her tight cunt embraces me, fits around me, but by her expression of pain, I can tell I've stretched her further than ever.

But for such a little woman she takes nine inches of my c**k like a trooper.

Most women can't get past eight.

I plunge in and out of her slowly at first, letting her get used to my size, I haven't bottomed out yet, technically, I could just...ram the remaining inch and half, but I don't.

For a woman with a harem, she sure is tight. So tight it almost hurts. Almost.

She breaks free from my grip, clawing at my back, trying to take more. Trying to make me move. I smirk, watching her writhe in agony.

"Di più. More, per favore."

Who am I to deny her?

I slam into her, all nice pretences gone. Now I get to f**k her like an animal. I clutch her throat, my lips brushing against her plump pink ones.

My grip on her throat allows her to breathe, but restricts some of her air.

She gets that look, the one she gives me whenever I'm hurting her. It's a dazed look, her lips parted, eyes filled with wonder and bloodlust. Insanity.

Maintaining my hold on her, I thrust into her hard, fast, rough. Her cunt wraps around me like a vice, every part of her body holding onto me every time I slide out of her.

All the while, my lips stay barely touching hers, even as I started f*****g her even harder, to the point she starts crying out in pain.

The room is filled with the wet slaps of my balls against her ass, her cries, the bed creaking, shaking as if it can't decide whether to drop us or not.

Even harder, I drive into her even harder, her hot p***y so good, so good. f**k, I hammer in and out of her, my balls swelling with the need to c*m.

Fuck.

I hold off, kissing her deeply, hand drifting down her body, until I find her c**t. I rub it frantically, the sensations overloading her senses, making her thrash, and cry, swear and plead.

But I know she's a slut for pain, just plain pleasure will never do it for her. Leaning back, my eyes glued on her, I pinch her c**t, smack it, and watch her fall apart.

She really cries then, and I gleefully kiss the salty tears from her face. It's the look in her eyes that unravels me. She watches me with a twisted admiration, waiting for me to c*m. And I do, I c*m deep inside her, cursing myself as I did, but the look of happiness in her eyes makes it worth it.

Panting, I take her lips once more, giving her another deep kiss, the one that looks like love from the outside.

Pulling out, I roll off her, trying to get my breath. I sling my arm over my eyes, sighing.

"Go shower."

She does, without a hint of sadness, or disappointment.

I go into another room, shower as well, come back, strip the sheets, wandering around until I find her laundry room.

Dumping it into the hamper filled with white clothes. Then I went back into her room and laid down.

A few seconds later, she comes out of her bathroom, wet and tempting.

"Dry off, come here."

I watch her dry off, and slip under the covers.

Snuggling closer to me, she lay on her side, placing my arm over waist. I allow it, tucking my face in her neck.

Inhaling her scent, I fought not to taste her skin. So sinful and sweet, that's how she smelled. There was no exact scent you could pin point, but it incited you to let her have what she wanted.

Incited sin and sweet.

Even though she was the enemy, even though I really didn't trust her, not completely, I slept just like that, tucked into her.

I'm crazy and I'm mean, hell, I can even be evil, but I have a mother and a father. And they taught me to treat women with respect. Maybe I don't do it well enough, but she, I feel, deserves my respect, if not anything else.

MY INTERNAL CLOCK HAS ME UP AT 

FOUR. Roksana is still sleeping, but she's entering consciousness, slipping out of REM sleep, so she'll be up soon.

My phone rings, so I step out of the room answering it. Only one person knows this line.

"Yuri?"

"Vitya Volkov where the f**k have you been?"

I wipe a tired hand down my face.

"Out doing s**t I shouldn't. Why?"

"They attacked the Southern Estate. Took ten of the girls, killed twenty men. They wrote a message."

"What's the message?"

"Я знаю, кто ты сделал в темноте"

(I know who you did in the dark)

My eyes closed painful, head sagging. I open my eyes, glance at the sleeping woman I left.

"Fuck."