BORGATA - BOOK 2
***NOTE: This is Book 2 of the Vendetta series. I recommend that you read Omertà before this book so that you have a gist of what's going on. However, this is a prequel, meaning this story happened before Omertà, and CAN be read o...
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Attached to this chapter is my favorite song and also it's so applicable to Borgata. ;) Also, the following part is technically an extended ending to the previous chapter! Enjoy! xx
(Italian accent) "Fico and Sam...no, no, no, no.... Fico and Sam...yes, yes, yes, yes... I want zem to fück. Yes. Ze fückeeng eeez nice," my sister christrocks247 said, when asked what to put at the beginning of this chapter.
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Fico leaned, his mouth hovering at my neck. Everything else fell away and the hairs on my arms stood up, as if electrified by his force. He slowly kissed the sensitive part of my neck and my pulse jumped. Then his hands found my waist in a controlled grasp, as if he was being careful not to break me, and his right hand slid from my waist to my flat stomach, to the material of my dress right over my thigh. I completely abandoned my inner conflicts and concentrated on the warmth of that hand...
But it never moved anywhere more interesting than my thigh. That hand just lingered where it was and his breaths remained slow and even at my neck. Now I knew that Fico was playing some sort of game. The audacity he had to be so gentle. As if I was fragile? I didn't want him to trace my skin. I wanted him to grab at my flesh, mark it with his mouth, and seal it with a bite. I burned for that kind of touch. Hell, I demanded it.
He just wanted me to say it out loud, didn't he? Or maybe he was unsure of whether or not to continue when I was this upset. I doubted it was the second one...
"My püssy is not some piece of Christmas china that needs a little dusting, Fücko. Either finish what you started, or I'll ask pretty boy to do it for your incompetent self." I was being a bîtch, I know, but I was desperate for this kind of distraction...now...and Fico had hesitated.
Fico snatched me roughly by the arm–finally– and dragged me right out of the room. His long strides down the hallway left me stumbling a few times to keep up. Before we knew it, we were at his office and he unlocked the door, throwing me inside as if he was releasing his prey into a closed room to play with it. His massive office doors slammed shut behind him–which I realized was becoming his signature. He locked us in and turned to face me.
The look he gave me brought delicious chills down my spine. He was going to fück the shît out of me. Fico stalked forward in a few quick strides and I suddenly lurched backwards, laughing at his annoyed reaction. The couch was now a playful wall between him and me. He moved left and I moved right. He stopped. I stopped. We straightened, clasped our hands behind our backs, and stared at each other, as if we were about to make a business arrangement. Him straight faced and me amused.
