Page 20 of Lucky Shot

“Jesus fuck, Phebes,” he moans, as he forces me back until I am standing unsteadily before him. He rips his shirt over his head, revealing his defined chest and pecs, a Celtic knot tattoo, with my family’s emblem intertwined inside of it, on his left pectoral. My hand rises with the desire to trace it with my fingers and my tongue, but I force myself to refrain from moving. My eyes trail down his chiseled abdomen, glimpsing that sharp ‘v’ that overheats my brain, as my glance continues following the trail of dark, neat hair, until it disappears inside the band of his jeans. He unzips his pants and releases a massive cock, with a silver piercing on the head, pulling down his pants until they reach his ankles, and he kicks them and his boots away. My mouth goes dry, just staring at how large and veiny his cock is, and the piercing adorning it looks intimidating as hell. My legs clench tightly as I fight the need to beg, which almost has me dropping down to my knees beforehim. He catches my look of trepidation and fear, as I wonder how the hell that is going to fit inside of me, and a chuckle breaks the silence of our heavy breathing. “It will fit beautifully. Your sweet pussy was made for me.”

“Strip for me, bean chéile, show me what I’ve only seen in my dreams.” My shaking hands travel to the tangled strapless bra now just sitting around my stomach, as my breasts heave with my labored breath, and I remove it, allowing it to fall to the tiled floor. I move to unfasten my skirt with jerky fingers, and a naughty smirk crosses his handsome face. It catches me off guard. I’ve never seen that look on Aiden’s face before. Honestly, it makes me feel like he’s the big bad wolf, and I’m Little Red Riding Hood, just waiting to be consumed. To further my ludicrous thought, he snaps his teeth before licking his plump bottom lip, and groaning while his fingers clutch around his cock, and he strokes it. “I can’t wait to taste every inch of you, Phoebe. I know you’re about to become my favorite meal.”

My skirt falls to my ankles, and I step out of it and my shoes, until I am standing completely bare before him, and I can feel my skin tinting red. I’ve never been naked in front of anyone, besides my mother when I was a child, and it makes me feel self-conscious. I know I’m not as thin and toned as some of the girls who hit on Aiden, Nicolo, and my brother, despite trying my best to exercise and eat healthy. It’s not my fault that milk chocolate and I are in an abusive, toxic relationship.

My arms wrap around myself, endeavoring to hide from his intense gaze, as I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek. “Don’t do that, don’t hide from me,” he growls, and it causes the hairs on my arms to stand on end. “Come here, Phoebe. I want you to climb onto the sofa and straddle my face, so I can taste your sweetness.” What the fuck does he mean straddle his face? A blast of heat rises up my spine, as he quirks an eyebrow and beckons me forward with his fingers. I stumble awkwardly onto the sectional, my feet planted on either side of his large body, and my pussy right in line with his face. Mortification fills me as his hands push my legs further apart, until I’m forced to hold on to his head to stabilize myself. “That’s it, pretty girl, now come sit on my face, so I can lick this pretty pussy.”

Ohmyfuckinggod! He presses his lips against my mound, kissing his way downwards toward my aching, swollen clit. His tongue slips out and lashes at my hard nub, back and forth, until my breath stutters in my throat, and my fingers grip his hair for dear life. I’ve made myself cum before, what twenty-two-year-old hasn’t, but it’s never felt this exquisite. My head dips back, as moan after lust-filled moan leaves my lips, and he continues lashing me with his tongue. One of his hands strokes my inner thigh, while the other grips one of my asscheeks and squeezes tightly, before slapping it hard. The slight hit of pain, and feeling of heat on my delicate skin, forces a loud, ragged gasp from my mouth, and my eyes nearly cross from the pleasure. “You taste like fucking sin, Phebes,” he mumbles against my soaked pussy lips, as he slides his tongue between them, and circles my tight hole. My body ripples with waves of charged electricity, every inch alive for the first time, as my orgasm sprints up my spine, and makes all my muscles tense. His tongue plunges inside my tight hole, as his thumb presses intense circles round and round across my aching bud, matching the rhythm he’s fucking me with his tongue.

“Ohmygod, holy shit, oh fuck!” I shriek as the orgasm slams into me, and my legs almost buckle. The only thing keeping me upright is Aiden’s grip on my ass, and mine in his hair. “One,” he rumbles into my pussy lips, as he slips a finger inside of my tight hole, followed by another. “So fucking tight, this pretty pussy is going to have to stretch for my thick cock,” he groans, as he sucks one of my pussy lips into his mouth. His fingers scissor and stretch my tight hole, and I can feel my wetness dripping out of me, and coating his digits and palm. “So messy for me, mo stoirín. Look at how much your cunt wants tobe mine. You’re such a good girl cumming for me like my perfect slut.”

Holy fuck, Aiden and dirty talk, I a hundred percent never imagined that. His fingers rub against a spot deep inside of me, that causes me to sound like a cat purring, as I spread my stance even further to allow him to finger fuck me deeper. He slips a third digit inside of me, and I cry out, almost about to tell him that it’s too much. “You can take it, beautiful. You will take my fingers, and my cock, in all of your holes. They’re all mine, and I intend to acquaint each and every single one with my cum.” Jesus, I’m a goner. Another orgasm ascends right over me, taking me down a maddening precipice, until I’m screaming his name over and over, as I cum all over his face, fingers, and chest. “That’s two, pretty girl.” He pecks at my swollen flesh. “Mercy,” I mumble, my voice sounding drunk as I sway in his grip.

“Never, I’ve waited for too long to have you, M’fhíorghrá,” he groans, as he licks up all my juices. His hands move to my waist, as he drags me down his body until I’m kneeling on the sectional, astride his protruding cock, that’s leaking beads of precum down its thick length, and bumps my clit with every breath he takes. His eyes darken, and become hooded, watching me lick my lips, as I watch the beads meet the steel protruding from his dick. “Do you want a taste of my cock, álainn?”

I can’t even vocalize my words. I just end up nodding like some lust-drunk heathen. I clear my throat, trying to form coherent words. “When... piercing... cock.” I realize that my gasped sentence is a mess, and he gives me this sweet, endearing look and pecks my lips. “I got it done a few years ago. I knew it would bring you pleasure.” He shrugs, like it’s no big deal that he had metal placed in his dick, and my fuzzy brain realizes what he just said. He got that done for my pleasure? How can that be? “What?” I question, at the same time as he notches the head of his cock between my pussy lips, and thrusts back and forth, coating himself in my wetness. “I had hope, Phebes, that one day you would be mine.” Tears prickle at my eyes, and before I can stop them, I shed a few of them, and they trickle down my face. He always hoped I would be his, just like I hoped he would be mine. Another face pops into my mind with vibrant, laughing blue eyes, and with a sob, I force it away. No, I won’t allow him to intrude into this perfect moment. I won’t allow him to hurt me any further.

“Move to the cushion, álainn.” He helps me position myself next to him on the leather sectional, his hand rising to my throat, as his fingers tighten around the delicate column. My breath hitches as his nostrils flare. “You will lick every inch of me, and take me to the back of your throat. Do you hear me, my pretty cock slut?” I nod, because my mind no longer knows how to utter words, and he pulls me forward using his grip. I know that there will be bruises there tomorrow, in the shape of his fingers, and that further excites me. I’ll proudly wear his hand necklace in defiance.

My lips brush against the deep, purple mushroom crown of his cock, and taste his musky, salty precum. “Lick, clean me up, my dirty girl,” he groans, as my tongue gives his slit a tentative lick. “That’s it, fuck, Phebes,” he moans, and it’s the sexiest sound I have ever heard. I lick him from root to tip, lashing my tongue against his veiny girth, and wrapping my tongue around his crown, sucking deeply as he groans. My core clenches emptily with every sound, and I squirm, trying to lessen some of the neediness inside of me. I’ve already orgasmed twice, but it seems like my body can’t seem to get enough of this man. “That’s it, bean chéile, take me to the back of your throat, swallow me down.” I hollow my cheeks, and take his long length as far into my mouth as I can manage, gagging and choking when he hits the back of my throat. He thrusts upwards, and impales himself in my throat, until my nose is pressed against his fevered flesh. I can’t get any air into my throat, and my hands go to his chest and thigh, my nails digging into his flesh, as he holds himself rigid in my throat. Tears slide from my eyes, and meet the saliva dribbling from the side of my overstretched lips. “What a perfect cock sucking slut you are. Fuck, my cock feels so good down your throat. Swallow for me, baby, let me feel how you tighten around me. Let me feel how I deprive you of your very breath that belongs to me.”

I swallow for him, and his groans are almost my undoing. I can feel another orgasm already rising within me. My pussy is so slick that my wetness is now coating my upper thighs. His hand slides around my body, until his fingers are slipping between my drenched pussy lips, and two of his fingers are making their way back inside of me, and thrusting in and out at the same speed his cock is doing to my throat. His thumb strokes my puckered hole, and it makes my eyes pop open wide. I try to look at him from the corner of my eye, but my thick hair obscures him like a chocolate curtain. “After I’ve claimed this perfect cunt, I am going to fill you back here, Phebes.” OHMYGOD! I cum with a gush, the orgasm hitting me like a hurricane, my body spasming, and my eyes rolling into the back of my head. He pulls my mouth off his rigid cock, his hand leaving my throat to cradle my face gently. “That’s three,” he gasps and pushes me back against the seat of the sectional, moving our bodies until he’s above me and my legs are positioned on either side of his waist. “This will hurt only for a moment, my sweet girl, but I promise I will make it feel good right after. Do you trust me, M’fhíorghrá?”

I nod, because I can’t yet catch my breath, and he doesn’t hesitate, slipping his thick girth between my pussy lips and positioning himself at my entrance. “Look at me as I make you mine, Phoebe,” he demands with a growl, and the minute my green eyes meet his hazel ones, he slams forward, impaling me in one go. A hoarse scream leaves my lips, as a burning, sharp pain fills my core. “God, so fucking tight, so warm.” He holds himself above me, perfectly still, as his massive cock fills me to the brink, and stretches me the way I have never dreamed of, as my body fills with tension. My whole body teeters off a cliff, pain mixing with pleasure in an accumulation of everything I have ever wanted, and was too afraid to reach for. After what feels like endless minutes, the pain begins to subside, and instead, I’m filled with a dull ache. My core clenches down tightly around the intrusion, and he groans, his neck straining, and the veins protruding on its strong, thick surface. I get the urge to reach up and lick each one, wanting to bite and mark him like he did me. “Are you good, Phoebe?” He grits between clenched teeth, and I can see how his body vibrates with the need to move within me. If I am being honest, I desperately need him to move too. I squeeze down on him and lift my pelvis, trying to force him to thrust into me.

My arms snake around his neck, forcing his mouth back down to mine. “Fuck me, and don’t be gentle. I won’t break, Aiden,” I whisper against his lips. “Fuck, Phoebe, you’re perfect for me.” He doesn’t hesitate, pulling back almost to the tip and slamming inside of me, again and again with force. The sound of my wetness is lewd and loud in the space, when the only other sound is our heavy breathing, and my mewling. Our skin slams together, his pelvis grinding down on my needy clit every time he bottoms out inside of me, and his heavy testicles slapping against the flesh of my asscheeks. “Mine. Always,” he gasps, as his movement starts to get choppy, and his fingers find their way between our bodies, and to my needy clit. “Come for me, baby, as I fill this pretty cunt with my cum.”

I can feel the stirrings of my orgasm rising, my body wired tightly. My sharp fingernails dig into the back of his neck and shoulder, as my head tips back, and I let go with a scream.

I bolt upright in bed, a cry ripping from my lips, as tears slide down my face, and my thick hair tangles around me in a sweaty mess. I glance around with glazed eyes, at first not seeing where I am, and reaching for Aiden, but only empty air greets me on the disorderly bed. My chest rises and falls erratically, as if I have been running a marathon in my sleep, instead of having vivid sexual dreams of the first, and only, time I was ever with Aiden, with any man. The night he took my virginity.

The next morning, in fear of the possible repercussions to him, I ran like a scared lamb, from him and my family, using every resource that my family had to make me disappear. I stole money from our family safe, enough to make it as far away as I could from Chicago, and bought myself a new identity, all while everyone waited for a blushing virginal bride in a church. I drag my hands down my face, wiping away all the tears, as even more pour out of me. I’ve had one perfect moment in my life, just one, and it haunts me over and over again. My heart calls out for him, even though it knows we can never go back, and I can never be with him.

Chapter twenty-three

Nicolo

Aiden thinks he’s so slick. He thinks I don’t know something is going on that I’m not privy to. He forgets that we have known each other for over twenty-two years, and that he’s never been effective at lying to me, like when he tried years ago to hide the fact that his asshole father with the God complex was beating on him, when he was a child.

The image arises of a smaller, frailer, Aiden, attempting to hide all the bruises on his skinny body, with clothes that were two sizes too big, and how he flinched with every painful movement. We were just ten, and my young mind couldn’t understand how and why his father would do that to him. My father was a ruthless asshole too, a mob boss, but he never laid a finger on his children, even when we acted out and deserved it. No, all Vito Amato had to do was give his errant children a look, and we knew to immediately behave. That look still works to this day on me, but now it’s also wrapped up with the deadly fear of disappointing him.

I’m sitting in a swanky hipster bar, around the corner from the hotel Aiden and I are staying at. I left him to his moping, and lying asshole behavior, hours ago, but when I went to my quiet room, the silence was deafening, and it made me panic. Memories from long ago accosted me, replaying and tallying up all my mistakes, like some vicious network special in my mind. I’ve never done well alone, always needing the company of others to avoid having to take a hard look at myself. I needed a distraction, noise, and to be around people, before I put my fist through the walls.

I found this place on a quick walk in the sunshine, after a sleepless night, and it looked decent. It was quiet but not too quiet, and definitely not filled with day drunks. I fit right in, with my dark wash jeans, and an inexpensive t-shirt that Aiden insisted I buy, as he threatened me with bodily harm. A part of me is missing my expensive suits, like a coat of armor that protects me from the world. The other part feels like I have taken a costume off, and I don’t know who the real me is underneath everything. What the fuck is happening to me? Am I really sitting here contemplating myself, and my personal choices? Are they really my choices and preferences, or are they based on the expectations my father, family, and the world around me have for me? I don’t have a ready answer for that. Lately, it seems I can’t make up my mind much.

It was never a question that I would follow Milano into the family business, instead of going off to college. I’ve never had to be reminded that image in our world is everything, and to always project strength and power. That’s the Amato way. From the moment we took our first steps, our father had drilled the need to be better, fiercer, and more deadly than anyone around us. I killed my first man at fourteen, as part of my initiation into the Amato family business. Despite being a born son, I got no leeway, and neither did my brother, as the heir. I swore my oath to all the made men, including my father and brother, in a blood ceremony, where I had to spill my own blood on a painting of the Blessed Virgin, and agree to uphold the Omertà, and never choose anyone above family.

I don’t know if Aiden had to do the same on his end with the Irish mafia, since it was something neither of us had ever discussed. In fact, after the moment I took the oath, we started to become divided, with my father urging me to break off my friendship with Aiden and Tadhg, and only associate with Italians. I refused, of course, they had been my best friends for years, and besides, there was no way I could distance myself from Phoebe Murphy. My sun rose and fell at her feet. She was everything I had ever wanted, and needed to have. She was going to be my mafia queen, and I would lay the world at her feet.

“How come you spend so much time with us? Don’t you have Italian friends on your side of the city?” A freckled, smiling Phoebe teased me, as she passed me another neon rubber friendship bracelet she made me, after I beat the shit out of a fucker who called her ugly, because of the braces on her teeth.

We’re sitting on the grass outside Holy Immaculate Church after Sunday school. My father gave up calling for me to get in the car after church, when I blatantly ignored him, and I know there will be hell to pay when I get back home for the disrespect. I had spied that asshole Jason Fitzpatrick being mean to my girl before church, and right after mass. Fucking Tadhg was oblivious to what the slimy cunt was doing, and saying, to his little sister. He was too busy chatting up Melissa O’Reilly, like he even had a chance with her pious ass. Aiden was forced to leave with his old man the minute mass was done, and he looked miserable about it, his sad eyes going straight to Phoebe. He had noticed what Jason was doing too, and with a nod of my head, I reassured him silently that I would protect our favorite girl.

When all ofus kids went down to the basement to get the cookies Father Santino had laid out for us, I saw Jason pinch her hard in the side, and heard him calling her names. I lost control of my temper, and myself. Forgot that I was inside of church, after spending a torturous hour in prayer, asking God for forgiveness of my sins, and threw a punch at his ugly face when he turned around, after I heard Phoebe’s whimper.

“What the fuck, Amato?” The ugly, red-faced fucker flared his nostrils at me, as he swiped at the blood underneath his nose. “Don’t ever fucking touch, speak, or look in Phoebe’s direction, or I swear to the fucking Virgin, I will end you!” I growled, pushing a tearful and frightened Phoebe behind me as I puffed out my chest, ready to swing again at the stupid twat.

“What, she your ugly girlfriend or something? I thought you Italians all stuck together, so what you doing with an Irish?” The bloody grin on his pimpled face made me even madder with his insinuation that we shouldn’t be together. My clenched fist struck out again, this time hitting him on the side of his cheek, and making his head thrust sideways. I followed it up with a kick to his balls, ’cause a guy like that shouldn’t be able to have kids someday, and watched with evil satisfaction as he fell to his ass, clutching his junk in agony. “Oh my God, Nicolo! Stop, you are going to get in so much trouble!” Phoebe cried as she grabbed onto my arm, and pulled me away from a furious Jason hunched on the floor.

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