Don

13

After the girls were settled into the safehouse, Pierto and DiAngelo took them out one last time before they left.

It was a good thing too; because s**t was going to go downhill from there.

P I E R T O

"What's really going on, Italy? " Melanie asked me, her arms crossed.

Sometimes I wish I had fallen in love with a bimbo.

Tigrotta is entirely too smart to lie to.

"I told you Tigrotta mio," I sighed, preparing to tell her the vague explanation I had been telling her for the last twelve hours, "People want to kill me, and by extension, you."

"Why do these anonymous people want to kill you? I mean, you're annoying; I totally get it, I wanna kill you sometimes too. But all this?"

I chuckled at her passing threat.

"It is complicated. "

"Now see, that's what people say when it's not at all complicated, but they don't wanna explain."

"Touchè."

Glancing over at her, I grinned, turning my attention back to the road quickly.

"You're a certified d**k, Italy."

"I thought I was an asshole," I glanced at her again, "Pick a part and stick with it."

Melanie flipped me off, making me shake my head in amusement.

I was going to miss her every second I was away; or at least, every second I had to time to miss her.

My cousin, one of the last ones, called me from Switzerland where he was hiding to tell me he gathered some troops there.

The Swiss are usually very neutral, but from what I heard, they are brutal when pushed.

Or when paid.

So far, the Familgia has acquired a million troops from Switzerland, America, France, Spain, Portugal and of course, our own.

Assassins, hit-men, torture experts and just plain killers-all to get rid of these incessant pests.

"Pierto, look out!"

I'm shocked from my thoughts, swerving to avoid the eighteen wheeler I was about to hit.

"Mi dispiace, topolino."

I pull over to the side of the road, breathing and resting my head on the steering wheel.

I almost killed her before he got the chance to.

Shit.

"Are you OK, Melanie? "

She nodded, but I could tell she was lying.

I could also tell she was hiding something from me.

Putting the car in gear, I merged in traffic and took us straight to the hotel.

I didn't need anymore chances to put her in harm's way.

°°°

(Back to third POV. You're welcome!)

As soon as they'd reached the room, Melanie latched onto him.

She knew that whatever was going on, Pierto needed support.

She wasn't used to supporting anyone but herself, so she consoled him the best way she knew how; with her body.

Pierto staggered back at the force of her attack, but soon took control.

He had no control in his life right now; not with the war, nor with the astronomical death toll and untold sorrow that came with it.

He could not ensure that the alliances would hold; he could not force them to help.

He could not keep Melanie safe; could not be in two countries at once, could not take her with him.

He had no say in whether or not he'd come home; the most he could do was stay on his game and try not to die.

He could not neglect food and sleep to stay up all night and day strategizing nonstop.

He had no control over his feelings; he truly had no control- not even with of her.

Pierto never fooled himself into thinking he could control Melanie; he knew better.

If she wanted to go, she'd go. 

If she wanted to stay, she'd stay.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

But right now, he was in his element; he had his control back and thanked God for this woman who got him, whether she knew it or not.

He couldn't control anything out there; but in the bedroom with her he held the reins.

Melanie took from him, as he gave to her readily.

He walked them back toward the bed, shedding clothes as they went.

His grip was strong and unwavering; his kissed were needy and urgent.

"Lay back, baby girl."

She did so without question.

Melanie lifted her hips as he dragged her panties down, fingertips brushing the contour of her legs as he did.

Pierto inhaled her scent; Jasmine and Honey, a soft smile on his face.

Home, he thought to himself.

He flung her panties off to the side somewhere, taking in the sight before him.

Her eyes reflected bliss not yet felt; a delirious high from feeling so much.

Her curls sprawled out, her breast heaving from exertion.

Pierto wondered why he couldn't feel himself breathing.

Discarding the thought, he lifted his shirt.

His body was littered with scars from old nightmares, a living tapestry of near-misses, run ins with death, and fights he'd never quite win.

She found him breathtaking.

There was something tragically beautiful to her about wearing scars on the outside.

Perhaps it was because her heart, mind, and soul was littered with scars.

An unseen tapestry of old nightmares that never completely go away, near misses that still hurt, run ins with death that she organized, and fights she'd never won, nor understood.

Pierto watched her mind whirl, no expressions on her face but her soul in her eyes.

He didn't want thinking. Not tonight. He just wanted her.

"Stop thinking, Topolino."

She looked at him, seeing him this time.

Black to Brown clashed in a battle of need, as he dipped his head, licking her.

He placed a gentle kiss on her c**t, his hands holding her down when her hips bucked.

"Still, tigrotta. Be still."

She nodded frantically, her body humming from the energy it denanded she spend on bucking against his mouth.

"Good girl," he praised her.

Pierto sucked her c**t, letting it pop out his mouth. Not a beat was missed as he attacked her p***y.

His tongue pushed into her, f*****g her furiously.

"Pierto! " And with that, she released into his mouth.

He licked every last drop.

Leaning up, he kissed her, f*****g her mouth, her taste on his tongue.

Finishing the assault, he sucked her tongue and let her go.

She'd leaned so hard into him that she bounced when he dropped her.

"Do you want more, Topolino?"

She nodded meekly.

Nodding to his jeans, urging her to own him like he did her.

"Take it then."

She sat on her knees, slithering over to the edge of the bed where he stood waiting.

She unbuckled his belt, staring up at him.

Pierto merely gave her a questioning stare.

Do you want it or not? It said.

Melanie lunged at his Jeans, eyeing his straining c**k hungrily.

Pierto watched a dip form between her brows.

"Hey," He lifted her chin. "This," he placed her small hand on his large c**k, "This is yours; I am yours. Take it."

Melanie leaned down, her hand still on his c**k, peeking up every blue moon.

His d**k throbbed in her hand when she freed him from the constraints of his boxers.

Then in an instant, control shifted.

Her mouth descended on his d**k, and Pierto handed her the reins unconsciously.

Melanie took him in all the way to the back of her throat, swallowing his d**k nearly whole.

Pierto's head flew back, his hand grabbed her hair, swearing softly I. Italian and English.

"That's it baby girl. Just like that." She sucked his letting his length slide out of her mouth while she did.

Pierto looked down, his body trying to convince him the pleasure was real.

Seeing her swallowing his c**k whole, made his d**k twitch and throb in her throat. Melanie hummed, liking the feeling.

"f**k," he swore sofly,"You look so sexy swallowing my c**k, baby girl."

She hummed again, sending him spiraling out of control and slamming into pleasure, cumming in her mouth, his load filling her mouth, spilling out of it.

Pierto groaned at the sight.

"That's right baby, ingoiare il mio sperma come una brava ragazza."

(Swallow my c*m like a good girl)

Melanie licked her lips after swallowing his load, looking halfway sated.

He entered her.

She would be fully sated, tonight. Tonight more than any night, he aimed to please.

This was the peace; he'd leave her in bed the next morning with a note a kiss on the forehead.

It was time for war.

Chapter Word Count: 1,440

Current Total Word Count: 13,087

Edited☑

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