Top Dog

My hand flicked my clit before pressing deeply into my pussy. Juices were slipping down onto the mattress below me as I ground against my hand. I cupped my pussy and imagined it was his face. My legs straddling his cheeks as he fucked me with his tongue. My breathing was ragged, and my chest was panting. I could feel his cock filling my body as my fingers moved faster. Harder. “Holy shit. Yes. Romeo, please.”

My back arched, and my toes curled as my jaw unhinged in silent pleasure. I choked out groans as my pussy clamped down, and I slipped my fingers inside. I squeezed my eyes shut and imagined him, hovering over me with his beautiful blue eyes. Grinning down at my body and shoved deeply between my legs as he poured himself into me.

I saw him everywhere. The balcony of our honeymoon. In my bed. On his dining room table. Against the wall.

In the back of his car where we had conceived Matteo.

I plummeted to the mattress, my fingers buried between my legs. Fluids were coating my skin and a lopsided smile spread across my cheeks. I allowed my eyes to flutter closed as sleep threatened to take me over, and soon the thoughts of Romeo changed. I was no longer thinking of his body or the rings of his chiseled abs. I was no longer envisioning the pads of his Adonis muscles or his strong palms cupping my breasts.

There was a nagging sensation.

Like I had gotten something wrong.

I slipped my hand from between my thighs. My body was shivering with the aftershocks of my orgasm, and I needed to take a nap. I did my best to push the feeling of dread away. I chalked it up to the fact that I was simply nervous. Worried about interacting with Romeo again and what that might entail for us. I’d set a precedence that I would sleep with him, and he would probably expect that every time now.

For all I knew, his status as a crime boss would make him feel entitled to my body every time I saw him.

I wanted to believe he was a good man. That we could be the family I’d always dreamt of us being. That he could be a part of Matteo’s life and be the strong, seductive, protective man I knew he was when I was younger. It was why my pregnancy was a wonderful time for me, even if it pissed off my father. Because out of all the men on the planet, it was an honor to carry his child.

But now, I wasn’t so sure it had been an honor.

I rolled over onto my stomach and buried my face into the pillow below me. I could still smell my scent wafting around the room, and it somehow didn’t seem like enough any longer. Romeo’s scent was missing, not mingling like it had earlier that afternoon. It was lonely. Single. Alone.

Like me.

I drew in a deep breath and let sleep drag me under. I didn’t want to cry myself to sleep again. I’d done enough of that. I wanted to ride the high of my orgasmic state into wonderful dreams that swept me away until Matteo came and knocked on my door.

As I slept, I dreamt of the perfect future. Of peace between our families. Of marriage and more babies than I could count. I dreamt of the future I had always wanted for myself and Matteo.

But the dreams were shallow and didn’t leave me fulfilled or hopeful when I woke. They left me sad and anxious that dreams were all I would ever have.

CHAPTER 7

ROMEO

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

I sighed and shook my head as the two men beside me drew their guns.

“This was a deal my father had on the table before he died,” I said. “And now that I’ve taken over, we are no longer in need of your shipment.”

“I don’t give a damn if your daddy’s dead,?

? the man said. “He made a deal, and we shook on it. You owe us the money, or you owe us your life.”

“I owe you nothing. You made that deal with my father. It isn’t my fault there wasn’t a physical contract in place. When my father died, the deal he made with you died with him. That’s the price of doing business by trust.”

“Then maybe we’ll take your money and shoot you anyway,” another man said. “That would most definitely not be in your best interest,” I said evenly.

Of course, my father would’ve engaged in some backwoods shady shit during his reign. Shaking hands? No physical contracts? Word of mouth? Had the man been nuts? I was standing with two of my bodyguards staring down the barrel of three separate guns held by desperate men, and the only thing I wanted was for them to find some other fucking buyer for their weapons. That was it. There were plenty of traffickers in New York City that would kill for the shipment that had just arrived.

I didn’t need them, and all they had to do was acknowledge the deal gone bad and walk away from it.

No one had to get hurt.

“You’ll pay the two hundred and fifty thousand dollars you owe us, or you’ll die,” the man said.

I heard my bodyguards cock their guns as I held up my hand. They whipped their eyes toward me, looking at me as if I’d lost my mind. I was serious when I told my mother I wanted this operation to be legitimate again. That meant we would obtain any guns we needed for any reason legally, not shipped in from overseas with the fucking serial numbers scratched off from the metal. That was my father’s business. Not mine.