Okay, I know you guys have a lot of questions as to why I went MIA. I could go into a long monologue but I'm going to boil it down to this: I couldn't write. I tried everything I could think of to get myself to sit down and come up with words, but they weren't coming. So, I walked away for a minute. I can't guarantee I'm one hundred percent back, but at least I was able to re-read this story and edit a little.
Here's the long-awaited chapter eleven ;)
EPOV
Christ, she's warm and tight around my aching cock. I grit my teeth as I give her a few moments to adjust. Her hips squirm, and her pussy clenches at the intrusion, but with the way she arches into me, I know her discomfort is quickly morphing into pleasure.
When her grip loosens, I take it as my sign to move, pulling out halfway before reentering her slick channel. I've never had a woman so wet for me, so responsive to my touch. Usually, I have lube at the ready as it's hard for most women to take me without it, but not Bella. She's so aroused that I slip in with a single thrust.
"Oh God, Edward." The way she moans my name when my pelvis is flush against her, my cock buried to the hilt, has my balls twitching with the need to release.
"Get ready to get fucked, Bellissima." With one hand guiding her hip, I reach my other forward, twisting strands of her long hair through my fingers and pulling it taut. Her head tilts upward when I tug, causing her back to arch further and her ass to grind against me. The position is so perfect I want to pull out my phone and take a fucking picture.
I don't have the restraint to wait any longer as I begin to pump in and out, reveling in the sound of skin slapping against skin and the sight of her pussy stretching wide to accommodate my girth.
"Jesus, Bellissima, you like being fucked hard? You like my cock deep inside your pussy?" I rasp as I pant from the exertion. Her walls squeeze tight, telling me my filthy words turn her on. "Who is this pussy for, Mia Bella? Who gets to come inside it?"
Her hand slaps against the wall, searching for leverage as she screams, "You, Edward!"
As I rut into her, my chest puffs with pride. "That's fucking right. It's my pussy. You're mine, Mia Bella."
"Yes!"
My balls tighten, but I need more from her. I need to dominate, to own. "Say it, Bella. Tell me I own you."
"This is your pussy, Edward," she gasps, meeting me thrust for thrust, one of her hands bracing her as the other reaches between her legs.
Fuck, no. Does she not remember what I told her about touching my pussy? "Don't you dare touch yourself," I warn, releasing her hip, grabbing her arm, and placing her palm back on the wall.
She's reduced to begging as a choked "please" breaks from her lips.
But she's defied me, and there are punishments for girls who don't listen. So I pump harder, leaving her writhing, looking for a release I'm not yet going to give. I'm so close I begin to see stars. Allowing her hair to cascade across her back, my hands travel until I fully grasp her luscious breasts. Arching over her, I knead the soft flesh as my thrusts become erratic. My balls tighten, my abdomen flexes before a rush of euphoria fills my veins, and I pulse deep inside her core. My hold on her remains tight until each drop of liquid has seeped out of my momentarily satiated cock.
Before I pull out, I drop a kiss between Bella's shoulder blades, earning me a whimper and a roll of her hips. Her desperation makes me chuckle. As I tuck myself into my slacks, I admire my view.
Bella hasn't moved, hands still pressed against the wall, legs spread, and pussy dripping with my cum. It's a beautiful fucking sight.
"Stand up, Bellissima," I order, adjusting my sleeves and watching attentively as she slowly stands, turning to face me.
Her lips turn down in a luscious pout, the expression reminding me of a child who did not get their way. Red marks from the bruising grip of my hands mark the otherwise flawless skin on her hips and breasts, and her sex glistens with a mixture of our arousal. She's mesmerizing.
"Come here," I laugh, crooking a finger.
The frown stays firmly on her face, but she steps forward, her trapped panties falling down her legs with the movement. When she's close enough, I take hold of the nape of her neck, pulling her mouth to mine.
"You didn't behave," I scold, my thumb running circles at the base of her skull.
"Because I wanted to come." Her face flushes with her admission, and her eyes dart to the floor in embarrassment. "You wouldn't let me."
I move my fingers to her chin, lifting and forcing her weary eyes to meet my amused gaze. "Is that what you want, baby? You want me to make you come?"
She tucks her lip between her teeth, making my half-masted cock twitch. "Yes, sir."
Fuck, this woman is going to be the death of me.
I step closer so my body rubs against hers, and in her ear, I whisper, "Open your legs, Bellissima."
Without hesitation, her stance widens, giving me access to her sweet center. My fingertips start at her navel, tugging gently on the jewel dangling from it before trailing below her waist and to the top of her sex. When my middle finger brushes against her clit she whimpers and grasps my shoulder as if she'll buckle without the support.
"Does that feel good?" I bite gently along the skin of her clavicle, then lick the same spot, eliciting a shiver from her as my fingers move lower. Maybe a lesser man would be weary of fingering the woman he just came inside, but feeling the evidence of intercourse inside Bella as two of my fingers enter her only reminds me of the pleasure I took from her body.
She begins to writhe as I work, pumping digits in and out of her channel while my thumb presses gentle circles over her clit. She pants and gasps, one hand curling into my bicep while the other climbs to thread through my hair. My dick stands at attention, ready for round two as I try to decide what position I want her in next.
"Edward, I'm going to…" Her thighs shake with her imminent climax. Curling my fingers inside her, I quicken my motions against her sensitive nub. Her muscles tense in preparation.
With a scream, she lets go, falling against me in a quivering mess. She gasps and claws at my suit in an attempt to remain standing. My arm wraps around her waist, holding her to me while my fingers stroke her gently, allowing her to ride the wave of ecstasy to completion.
Her eyes are hazy when she looks up and says, "That was amazing."
My mouth twitches as I lean to hook an arm under her knees and scoop her up. "Just wait. I'm only getting started."
Giggling, she curls against my chest while I carry her through the penthouse toward my room. Warmth radiates over my body as I tuck her closer.
Bella poses a threat I've never faced before.
For the first time, I'm in danger of falling for a woman.
oOo
Adjusting my tie in my closet vanity, I catch the reflection of my new obsession sitting on the edge of my unmade bed. Bella is re-dressed, her zipped hoodie hanging open, giving me a view of her taut abdomen. Her breasts lift when she reaches up to tie her hair into a ponytail, and despite the restrictive nature of her black sports bra, my cock takes notice, and I wonder if I can make time for one more round.
Spilling my seed inside her three times since she came to my penthouse last night should be enough. It's not.
But we both have work to do—her at the diner and me downstairs in my casino, so my carnal urges will have to wait until later. We'll have a repeat tonight if I have my way. As a matter of fact, we'll have a repeat every night.
"Can I buy you coffee before you leave?" I ask as I lean against the doorframe and watch her pull on a sneaker.
She glances up from under her lashes, her cheeks tinging pink while her eyes rake my body. I stand taller, thrilled I have such an effect on her.
"Um, I have to be at the diner in an hour and a half. I need to go home and change first."
"What do you drink? I'll call downstairs and have it ready before we reach the lobby." Plucking my hotel phone from its receiver on the nightstand, I press the button for my concierge.
A grin lights her face, and she shakes her head before saying, "Grande chai latte with nonfat milk."
"Done." I nod once before placing our order to the woman across the line.
When I hang up, I find Bella staring, head cocked to the side as if trying to solve a puzzle. "Is that how your whole life is?" she asks. "You tell someone to do something for you, and they jump at the opportunity?"
"Pretty much." I shrug and cross to my dresser to retrieve my cufflinks. "I never thought about it much."
"Sometimes it seems like…" She trails off, her bottom lip finding its way between her teeth.
"Like what?" I snap on my second platinum cufflink and adjust my sleeves.
The beating her lip is taking makes me want to pull it from her mouth and punish her for abusing it so harshly. But before I can take a step, she says, "It seems like people are afraid of you."
She's caught me off guard, so I stall, humming before I retreat into my closet to slip on my suit jacket. What do I tell her? Yes, they are afraid of me, and for good reason. That would be a colossal mistake. Bella doesn't know who I am. She's the shielded daughter of a powerful Fed who could cause me a lot of trouble.
This thing between us can't develop more than it already has.
Bella Swan will never be more than a fling.
"I guess my employees are intimidated by me," I say when I exit my closet. "They don't want to screw up in front of the boss man." My lips curve in a smile as I joke, but it's her turn to noncommittally hum as if she doesn't believe me. She may be savvier than I gave her credit for.
She flips her phone, checking the screen before standing and tugging the strap of her duffle bag over her shoulder. "I've got to get going."
"Yeah, me too. Casino to run, employees to terrify."
"Right," she chuckles. At least one of my jokes hit.
She follows me through the penthouse and into the foyer, where we wait for the elevator. Emmett must have beat me downstairs because we have to wait for the lift to climb the full twenty-six floors to get to us. I use the delay as an excuse to sneak in a few more moments of physical contact and slip my arm around Bella's waist under her sweatshirt. My fingers ghost along the soft skin of her oblique, and I revel in how she pushes into me when I find a particularly ticklish spot.
Sighing, she steps forward and breaks our contact when the elevator arrives. We step in, and I press the button to take us to the lobby and the end of our rendezvous.
"So, tonight, after the show…" I start, glancing at her mirrored reflection in the door.
"Oh, um…" She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as she considers my proposal. "You want to see me again so soon?"
"Bella, I would keep you with me all day if I could. But, unfortunately, I do have work that has to get done at some point."
Fidgeting with the strap of her bag, she meets my stare in the mirror. "I'm eventually going to have to go home and get some chores done."
"I'll hire someone to help with that." My hand travels to the small of her back as the elevator doors open, and I guide her forward.
Bella does her best to protest my offer to find her a maid, but I cut her off when we cross through the lobby doors, and I spot a barista headed our way with my coffee and Bella's chai tea. I take them from the girl and send her off with a fifty-dollar bill. She smiles like she won a slot machine payout before returning to her post.
"Bella, stop arguing," I cut Bella off as I placed her tea in her hand. "I want to take care of you. Let me."
"I can take care of myself." I'd believe her if she wasn't mumbling toward the ground.
"I didn't say you can't." Sipping my coffee, I wait until her face tilts up and her eyes meet mine. "I just said I want to help."
She picks at the plastic lid of her drink, her stubborn streak clearly at war with her wants. "I'll think about it."
That's a win as far as I'm concerned, so I kiss her on the temple before nodding across the casino toward the employee parking garage. "Come on, I'll walk you to your car."
As we move through a series of slot machines, Bella's attention jumps between players. She mutters, "So close!" when a young couple, most likely newlyweds, if I had to guess, miss a payout when the third bar they need overshoots the line by a millimeter. I laugh at her enthusiasm for the unknown patrons lost in their attempts to win big.
"I'm curious," she says when we turn at the Black Jack tables. "How much money goes through La Bellissima in an average day."
Ah. So, the girl who doesn't want my help is interested in my bank account. "When you average it out, we have a little under forty million dollars pass through the property in a given day." I'm not surprised at the gasp she lets escape. "More on the weekends, less midweek, the most on nights of special events. But the majority of that goes to overhead. I only pocket about a million each day."
"You-" Choking on her drink, her eyes widen in disbelief. "You make a million dollars a day?"
"Give or take." The corner of my mouth curves up, satisfied I have her attention. I refrain from telling her that that's only the income I report to the IRS. My illegal endeavors bring in much more.
"Holy smokes." Shaking her head, trying to process this information, she heads toward the employee hallway entrance on the far wall of the casino.
A tingling sensation rolls down my back as I reach out, ready to open the door for her. I smile as I swing it open and let her pass through, but stall to look over my shoulder before I follow. Scanning the casino floor for anything out of place, I curse myself for leaving all my weapons upstairs, fearing Bella would spot one on my person. My sense of unease is building. Over the years, I've learned to trust myself when my gut tells me something is off.
"Everything okay?" Bella stops, eyebrows raised at my change in behavior.
"Yep. Just thought I heard someone call my name." Forcing off my paranoia, I join her and let the door separate us from the lingering threat.
We're quiet as we continue through the hallways and toward the God-awful eyesore she drives. I make a note to offer her one of my extra cars once she begins accepting my gifts. I don't want her driving this death trap.
"Tonight?" I ask as she climbs in and buckles her seatbelt.
"Yeah." Nodding, she inserts the key into the ignition and starts the engine. "Tonight. But tomorrow, I have to go home."
"We'll see." I place a last kiss against her lips before shutting her door and backing up so she has room to reverse out of her spot. I tilt my chin at the wave she sends me before shifting into drive; her engine rumbles as she drives away.
Once she's out of sight, my demeanor shifts, and the unease I felt before I left the casino comes to the forefront of my mind. I suck air through my nose as my jaw tightens, and I spin on my heel. I need a gun and my brother.
My steps are hurried and focused as I return to the building, traveling the short distance to my security hub on the second floor. Nothing seems amiss with my operations as associates and guards greet me in the hallways or when I enter the main room. A handful of men sit monitoring the sleepy property. It's too early in the morning for a plethora of commotion.
In the corner, my brother scoops whipped cream off his stupid faux coffee. I roll my eyes at the caramel drizzle dripping over the side of the cup as I beeline to him.
"Morning boss," he chirps, mouth full of cream. "Saw you had a lovely lady with you today." The exaggerated wink he sends me nearly earns him a punch to the gut.
I ignore his taunting and reach toward a nearby monitor to pull up the video of Bella and me leaving the casino. "Have you noticed anything off over the past thirty minutes?"
"No." He swallows another mouthful. "What's up?"
"Just a feeling," I mutter, scrolling through footage from the blackjack tables. "Someone was watching me."
"You sure?"
I stop my search to glare at Emmett. He knows damn well I don't act on anything unless I'm fucking sure. "If you weren't so focused on my sexual interludes, maybe you would have caught what I'm looking for. Watch the tables, see if anyone looks my way when I pass."
We stare at the screen as Bella and I come into view. I'm momentarily distracted by seeing us side by side. Pride fills my chest at the image, but I have work to do, so I push away my reaction to question later.
"There!" Drink forgotten on the desk behind him, Emmett points over my shoulder at a table on the edge of the screen. We can only see half of the man whose eyes follow my movements, but I recognize him instantly.
"Vladimir." My molars protest the pressure I inflict on them as my blood pressure rises. Fucking Bratva prick is on my property. We watch the video as Bella and I disappear from view, and he collects his chips, leaving the table. "Are there more of them, or was it just him?"
"I don't know." Emmett is already pulling up footage from nearby cameras so we can trail the Russian as he exits out the front lobby. The second he's out the door, he presses his phone to his ear. A few moments later, another man leaves the casino, joining him as they climb into a waiting sedan.
"Get the plates on that car and send them to Jasper. I want this fucker tracked."
Christ, I'm distracted. How did I miss Russians entering my domain?
It's not that they aren't allowed here per se, but they should know that my hospitality has worn thin. The Bratva influence in Vegas was minor until recent years when the cops began to crack down on the city's prostitution rings. The Asians and Latin Americans spent years running massage parlors and back alley motels as fronts for brothels. While I'm not a fan of the industry, I understand the draw of the money. Despite their general lack of class, these establishments operated by a code of ethics. Their girls were all of age and willing participants.
The Bratva doesn't have any fucking ethics.
Garrett was the first to find an underage girl in his hotel. She was fifteen, from Ukraine, and was reported missing a year and a half earlier. Security was called to one of his rooms by a concerned patron who heard yelling through the wall. When they arrived, they found the girl a bloody mess—abused physically and sexually. A Russian Oligarch with ties to the Petrov family was the one who inflicted the damage. He fled overseas before we could get our hands on him.
Now I find Vladimir Petrov sitting in my casino doing what looks like fucking surveillance.
"What do you think he wants?" Emmett asks after forwarding the tapes to Jasper. "Vladimir's underboss now, right? His uncle is still in charge."
"As far as I know, Vasili hasn't stepped down. What the fuck are they doing sending their number two for reconnaissance?" I speak in hushed tones, aiming to keep the conversation between only my brother and myself.
I lean back in my chair, index finger running across my lips as I rummage through my memories for a reason the Petrovs would come after us. They know I'm unhappy with their move into my city, but I haven't taken action. After the shit show at Garrett's hotel, they've kept their dealings to smaller businesses on the outskirts of town. Maybe I need to check in with those property owners.
Tilting my chin toward Emmett, I tell him to call our father. It's time for a meeting. The Masoni-Cullen family needs to be ready for whatever the Petrovs are about to throw our way.
A/N:
If you like this story, please be patient with me. I appreciate those of you who have sent encouraging messages. For those that have left passive aggressive reviews about the story being abandoned please keep your thoughts to yourself.
Hopefully I'll be back soon.
