Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“You can call me Wolfe.” He nailed me like he’d paid me a fat fee to do whatever he wanted, and he stared me down almost like prey. This wasn’t about love at all, but a carnal possessiveness that drove him mad.
My wishing death upon my enemies and wanting to be the one to execute them was his biggest turn-on, apparently.
“Baby, you make me so hot when you get mad.”
I definitely wasn’t mad now. I was stuffed with too much dick that could barely fit. He destroyed me with his length, taking me harder and faster than he ever had.
It was the first time I wanted him to finish because he’d been fucking me like this nonstop for thirty minutes straight, a piston in a diesel engine, working hard and fast to pump vigorously even when the oil ran low. And after coming three times in the last thirty minutes, I just couldn’t go again.
I grabbed his ass and tugged him into me. “I’m gonna kill all those fucking assholes.”
A wave of desire flowed across his gaze as he listened to that, as if violence and death were his version of dirty talk. It had the exact effect I desired because he let loose a moan as he gave his final pumps. “Fuck yeah, you are, baby.” He filled me with his seed, his jawline tight from the way he clenched it, all the muscles in his body flexing at the same time.
He pulled out of me and wordlessly left the bed. He walked into the bathroom, and then a moment later, the shower came on.
It took me a little while to stretch out again, my hips and hamstrings and pretty much everything tight from being pinned in that position for so long. I finally unfolded and lay there, emotionally and physically spent. If I ever wanted to be fucked like that again, all I had to do was vow to kill people who wronged me, and he would nail me.
So knocked out, I drifted off and woke up when I heard him get dressed. He gave my ass a gentle smack to get me up. “Come on, baby. We’ve got work to do.”
10
WOLFE
We met up with Cosa Nostra again, and under the cover of darkness, we drove hours to my home in Caltanissetta. The gate was busted in from when Warren’s men had rammed into it, but from the outside, it didn’t look any different. There was plenty of room to park in the driveway and in the roundabout in front of the house, so the line of SUVs was all able to pull in. The property was surrounded by a wall, so the only way to see all our cars was if someone drove past the gate, and since it was off the main road, there was no reason for Warren to come here unless he was suspicious.
We all entered the house and found the knocked-over tables and the mess the assholes had left behind. Wordlessly, the guys started to right all the furniture and put everything back where it belonged, even when I hadn’t asked them to. Francesca helped too.
I knew there wouldn’t be much to eat in the house, so I’d brought food from the grocery store and put it in the fridge. I got enough to feed all of us for a couple days.
Francesca returned to me in the kitchen. “Doesn’t look like they took anything.”
“Not really anything here worth taking,” I said. “And it’s not like they could fit into my clothes.”
She smiled at that.
“I don’t want to sound like a sexist asshole or anything, but would you mind cooking dinner for everyone?” I’d quickly grabbed stuff at the store, meat and pasta and ingredients so she would be able to make lemon chicken or lasagna.
She didn’t hesitate at the request. “Of course I can. I’ll get to work now.”
“Thanks, baby.” I gave her ass a playful smack before I headed back outside.
Santino sat on one of the stone benches and smoked a cigar as he stared out at the gate in the distance to keep watch. Everyone else started to settle while they waited for Leo to contact me. Because we didn’t know how long we’d be here, Don Russo had stayed behind because he had to run other things. For all we knew, Leo might not text for a week…or at all.
I took a seat beside Santino.
He reached into his pocket and wordlessly offered me a cigar.
I shook my head.
“Your woman wants you to quit?”
“Just trying to cut back.”
He returned it to his pocket.
He crossed his arms and let the cigar rest between his lips, smoke rising from the tip and into the evening air.
“Francesca is going to make dinner for everyone.”
“Yeah?” he asked. “She a good cook?”
“Oh yeah.” I wasn’t sure if she was a better cook or a better fuck, but I didn’t tell him that.