His Greek Love | 18+

19

TW: This chapter contains a heavy sexual scene, graphic toture and lots of blood. If this content upsets you or disturbs you in any way shape form or fashion please scroll past or leave. Thanks. Enjoy my little heathens!!! 😊

U N K N O W N

"Oh fuck, just like that!" I scream. This has to be by far the most mediocre sex I've ever had in my life, but I have to make it believable, so I'm putting on the performance of a lifetime, that in my opinion, isn't all that good. 

Don't get me wrong, this man is gorgeous. Tall, brown hair, blue eyes, great body, massive dick, only problem is, he can't use it to save his life. Aren't mafia bosses supposed to be good in bed? Jeez, this guy obviously didn't get the memo.

He's... penetrating from the back, moaning like a bitch. "You like that? Hmm? You like being fucked hard like back in the day?" This is hard? Absolutly hilarious. I prop my head on my hand and wipe the hair from my eyes with the other. "Uh huh! Keep going." Please stop.

Without warning he flips me around so I'm on my back and pushes himsef back into me, moaning as he does so. I normally love missionary possition but, his breath smells like ass, fish, and raw eggs. I've managed to avoid kissing him, something I also prefer, but I don't know if I can manage for much longer. I also happend to get a good look at the clock hanging on the wall behind him. He's been doing this for an hour.

"You feel like heaven. You're husband was so lucky." He whines as he come for the... third time? Yeah third time. "I swear if you don't kill him, I will myself." He says through the ear peice I have in my ear. It isn't well hidden so I'm surprised he didn't see it. I know I shouldn't be, because he hasn't noticed anything else other than my body. I mean I know I look good but, damn. He leans down and capturs my lips in a kiss. He tastes like raw tuna and mustard. Ew.

"Do it now." Without hesitation, I tuck my hand under my pillow and pull out my gun, pointing it at the man.  I think his name was James? Jake? I don't know, and I don't care to know. Jack freezes when he feels the gun press against his temple. "That's right. Get off. Now." I demand.

The man's eyes grow wide and he scrambles off of me. "Now, pick up your phone, call your wife, and tell her you're going to be late for dinner."
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"Nice work. What should your reward be?" I'm in the car, on the way back to the house. Black sits beside me while one of the poor Atlas' drive. I hate this man with my whole being, but I have to endure him to save my family. He knows what he does. He knows how he makes me feel, but he lets me keep up with the act so that he can make it seem like he'll let them go. He won't.

He sits tall beside me awaiting my answer. "Let them go." I demand. His face remains the same. Calm, soft, collected. He doesn't move and inch but his voice, his tone, it moves through me and speaks volumes. His voice alone could make any god piss themselves. "No." A simple word. Yet it held so much power. Such a small little thing. How could it make me quiver in fear?

His hand raises toward my face making me flinch and colide with the car door. "You're being rewarded, not punished. There is no reason to flinch away from me." He says sofly. He's almost whispering, just admiring me. His eyes trail from my hair to my eyes. Then my lips, neck, breasts, waist, hips, legs. "She looks just like you." He speaks of my daughter.

I've always loved to think of her as my little mini me. She has thick and long curly black hair and almond-shaped chocolate-colored eyes. Beautiful dark skin and little dimples in her lower back. Like mine. She always said that since we look alike, we should act alike as well. So I am. I'm fighting, so I can be happy with my babies.