“You’re making me hard, Belle.”
“Good. I like it when you’re hard.” She reached down and palmed the crotch of his black jeans. He was indeed rock hard. There was no way she’d be able to tempt him back to bed when Carlos was waiting for him, but a few minutes of pleasure before he left couldn’t hurt. She unzipped his pants, staring into his eyes the entire time. The hesitation fizzled away when she wrapped her fist around his bare girth.
He growled, and the sound reverberated all the way to her cunt. As much as she craved to have him fill her, this wasn’t about her now. He was risking everything for her benefit.
She sat on the edge of the bed and leaned close enough to wrap her lips around the thick head of his cock. He cursed.
“You’ll be the death of me, baby girl.” His fingers threaded into her hair.
Belle began to work his beautiful cock, suckling and taking him as deep as she could without choking. The sounds he made only spurred her on. His pleasure was her pleasure.
She remembered him in the ring and sneaking peeks at the huge outline of his cock in his shorts. Now he was all hers. She closed her eyes and savored the strength of him, pumping the base of his erection with her fist to match the movements of her mouth. Up and down, over and over, until she knew he was close.
What would he taste like?
His grip tightened in her hair until the pain mixed with pleasure. The wet sounds filled the room as he took more control of the situation, guiding her, thrusting into her mouth. Moments later he bolted to a standstill, hot cum spraying down her throat as his cock spasmed against her tongue.
Drago groaned and gently pulled away, tilting her head up with a curled finger under her chin. “Bad girl.”
She smiled, licking her lips. “Make sure you come back to me, Drago.”
He winked, and within seconds he was gone.
Belle collapsed on the bed, still able to taste him, his masculine scent all around her.
“Please come back,” she whispered to herself.
****
“Remember me?”
Drago came out from behind Carlos in the darkened room. They’d already assassinated the politician. He wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else again.
Belle’s father was the next one on his list. At first, he remembered the pain on Belle’s face, and he wondered if he should save the bastard for her. But he didn’t want her to veer down that path, to know the same darkness and hate that he held inside himself. He’d end the old prick and save her from getting her hands dirty.
This would be his last time venturing on the dark side. After today, he’d start a new life and become a new man. He’d do anything for his new family.
“Of course, I know you. You made me a pretty penny. I never did agree with you retiring,” he said.
Drago narrowed his eyes. “Your mistake was taking Belle’s kid. You promised her ten rounds to get her back, but you never planned to return her. How could you sentence your own child to a death match?”
He shrugged. “Business.” The old man adjusted his tie. “You know how it is. You’ve never worn church whites, if I remember correctly.” Randal Aiello winked.
“I may be a bastard, but I’d never sell out my own family, my little girl. Even monsters take care of their own. What does that make you?”
The man sighed, sounding bored. “Why do you care? If you need money, I’ll get you a match. I’m sure you still have some of that killer instinct in there. We’ll get some good bets. I own this city.”
“You don’t understand at all, do you? You’re not capable of empathy.”
With that, Drago didn’t hesitate when he pulled the trigger, and Randal Aiello collapsed to the ground in his mansion paid for with blood and death. A single kill shot. He handed the gun to Carlos. Drago was done with this life. He’d never look back.
“You okay, boss?” Carlos asked.
“Get rid it. It’s over now.” He stood there for the longest time, his mind scattering in so many directions—his brutal childhood, the underground, the good and bad times, and Belle.
Finally, his friend clapped him on the shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts, and they left toward the back alley where they’d left the car. It was pitch dark along the path. They’d taken out the streetlights and exterior house lighting earlier.
The night had gone better than he could have anticipated. They’d taken down the crooked politician who had it in for Belle, and her father, the dirty kingpin of the underground, was gone. The illegal fighting would probably continue, but it would never be the same.
Among other injuries, Drago had a gunshot wound to his shoulder from one of Ford’s security detail, but it was clean, and the bullet went right through. He’d been through worse. He just wanted to forget this night, take a long, hot shower, and spend the rest of his life making love to his woman.