Donna

8

ANOTHER HIT ON MY GUYS WAS INEVITABLE. It wasn't Roksana though. It wasn't the Genovese at all. Vitale. It was the Vitale.

Luciano had a vendetta against the Russian Mob, even though his territory was in Chicago, he decided, hey! Why not crash San Francisco!

Why f*****g not?

Because b***h: me!

I'm swear I'm so sick of these f*****g Italians. So entitled. If you want be entitled to something I'll have your name engraved on bullet that will later blow your f*****g head off.

“Caro, you seem upset.”

I glare at the woman in the very short red dress.

“That's because I am. I'm f*****g sick of you Italians.”

She crosses her arms over her chest pretending to be offended.

“How can I make it better your highness,” She sarcastically drawls.

I smoke my cigar, inhaling thousands of toxins. I blocked them out in a steady stream, glowering at the tiny woman.

“Come over here and let me f**k you with my gun.”

“Is that a threat?”

I blow a stream of smoke her way disdainfully.

“Oh shut the f**k up, you know you'd like it.”

She contemplates this, before nodding in agreement.

Sick b***h, and I love it.

Saying nothing else, I smoke my cigar in peace, lounging in my leather chair, my fingers eyes following Roksana in her f**k me heels, strutting around in my office, observing. Touching.

“So I'm leaving for a while.”

Grunting, I wait for her to get to the point. This isn't some sentimental girl s**t, where she wants me to tell her don't go.

There's an agenda. A reason. Always is.

“I need you hold off on any hits on my property or shipments. Just until I get back.”

I lift an inquiring brow, blowing out a steam of smoke. “Why?”

“I can't weed out rats if I'm not present to observe.”

Snorting derisively, regarding her spitefully.

“How do I know you're even doing what we agreed you'd do? I don't f*****g trust you, Roksana. Not one bit.”

Her back is to me, she stares out the window, I stare at her.

“Understandable. And wise, very wise on your part. But, I need a week. I have a... unique issue in Italia, that I have to take care of personally.”

Her posture is stiff, but nothing else changed.

“Why so vague? What is it?”

“My...harem, is being quite disruptive. I don't usually leave this long.”

“...Harem.”

She nods, never once looking at me.

“How large is your collection?”

“Twenty. Now I must get going.”

I don't object.

TWO WEEKS LATER SHE COMES BACK EVEN MORE stressed than when she left. Her hair is up more, which means she's trying to think clearly but her mind is fogged.

It's a job, watching her so closely, picking up on these things. Just a job, but I do it too well.

Absently, she struts into my office, shutting the door behind her. Her face is blank, her movements are fluid, but I know.

“Caro,” She purrs, fitting right back into the game. “I missed you.”

“You're one week over. You told me a week, you took two. Why?”

She settles herself on my lap, one of her favorite places to be. She's so soft, and those curves...

“It took longer than I thought.”

Is that supposed to fly?

“I don't give a f**k. You took a week of my time. You'll pay for it.”

I grip her hair aggressively, yanking it back exposing her throat. Such beautiful skin.

She grins widely at me, giggling, waiting, enjoying my abuse. Wanting more.

So f*****g crazy, I don't know if I should stick my d**k in or a knife.

“You are a beauty, Roksana.”

She looks slightly disappointed that I didn't hurt her more. Fine.

I'll match your crazy, b***h.

I pull my favorite blade on her, placing it under her chin, just barely piercing the skin there.

“Sometimes I'm clumsy. My hands slips and,”  I run the serrated edge the skin of her throat. “Oops, off with your head.”

“Talk is cheap, kill me or don't.”

I narrow my eyes at her, pressing the blade further under her skin.

“Do you think I won't?”

“I think you're opportunist.”

Studying her a while longer, I flip the blade shut, put it back in my pocket. Then I let go of her hair and sit back.

She's back to that pouting s**t, it's her reflex when she's not being violent, or stone, and she's never either one of those with me.

“You resolve your issue?”

She nods, looking me in the eye.

“Good. Now about that payment.”

“What do you want?”

“Mmh...” Good question.

I study her, from head to, well p***y, and decide.

“I want your mouth.”

That interested her, her s****l nature returning full force. Obviously, Roksana's harem, didn't fulfill her needs, which, I have a feeling are unique.

“Where?”

Already I catch on to her thought, and I let her think it, wrapping my hand around the back of her neck, pulling her closer.

“Where I put it.”

No protests, no questions, no nothing is allowed, all muffled under my rough kiss.

Now, Roksana isn't the type of woman who melts under you, per say. But she has these cues of acceptance, these little imperceptible movements, that let me know she wants more.

For instance, I kiss her in a rough, dominant way, taking, rarely even giving a chance to give. She doesn't object, instead giving these little sighs of pleasure into my mouth.

When I suck on her tongue, she does little sigh she does, and puts her hands on my shoulders. They don't move, but they are way of steadying her, so I can take what I want.

I bet no one else would've picked up on those things. I doubt anyone at all would've noticed that, and if they did, they wouldn't come to the same conclusion.

As it is, I ravage her mouth, sucking on her tongue more than I thought I would, but it's so goddamn sweet.

Her lips move against mine, small movements, and it's not until she whimpers slightly do I let her go.

I take my hands off her, sitting back. Her eyes are open, her back arched, teeth biting her swollen bottom lip.

Nothing is said, but brown doe eyes beg me to give her more.

“Alright, up. I got an issue with the Mexican's.”

Not moving she pouts at me. Now, when most women do this, they look slightly demented, but she, she pulls off so well, because her face is innocent.

So she gets the exact results she wants; every guy's wet dream is an innocent looking woman with a body like hers pouting for his c**k.

I am not amused.

I have to deal the f*****g Mexican's and a boner.

“Get up,” I tap her thigh. When she doesn't move, I slap it, leaving red behind.

I swear she could've c*m right there. Rolling my eyes, I place my hand around her neck once more, pulling her to meet my forehead with hers.

“I have to go, Лисичка. Meet at the casino, put on something tight and short and wait for me okay?”

“Sì Vitya.”

“Good girl. Up.”

She does what I tell her, causing me to hold back a victorious smirk.

“What time?” She asks from behind me, while I shrug on my suit.

“It's what? Three?”

“Yeah.”

“Six. I should be done by six.”

I pack my brief case, which contains nothing but weapons.

“Well meet me at my half house, I don't wanna go to the Casino.”

“Write down the address quickly.”

She does, and I put it in my pocket. Then I place my hand on her lower back and usher her towards the door.

“See you at six.” I press my lips against hers, pushing her out the door, sending her off with a rough slap on her ass.

She goes without a word.