Page 17 of Hustler in the Mafia

“Then promise me you’ll stay.”

She groaned as I pushed my cock inside her juicy pussy. “Shut up and say the words,” I demanded, even though my words made little sense.

“I promise,” she sniffled, and I knew I had her.

I shuffled the dirty clothes off her angrily until she was fully naked, rid of her old life. She was now just the way I liked her. Pure. Her perfect ass pasted to me, my cock throbbing inside her.

I pulled out and pounded into her. “No more stealing, Rina. You understand? I am not risking your life again.” Just the thought of it made me angry, and I whacked her ass hard to let her know. She jerked forward and moaned loudly like she loved it. Of course she would. Custom-made for me, this one. “Understand? You want something, you ask me.Sì?”

“Sì. Sì.”

Yes. She loosened the last shred of control I had, and I pounded into her. We drove ourselves mad as we always did and went at it like wild beasts. When we came, we were loud, and we were messy, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. My own woman. My fucking family.

All my life, I’d wanted to be a part of something. Like a broken puzzle, I’d rolled through life looking for the missing piece. Turned out this glorious woman in front of me was it. We came together with our broken souls and made them whole.Fuck.We weren’t perfect. But we were us. That was enough for me.

EPILOGUE

TWO MONTHS LATER.

FLORINA

The TV blasted Romanian. Marco had arranged for all Romanian channels to be set up on our TV and poisoned me with my new addiction. Romanian soap operas. I lifted myself off the couch I’d been lounging on and strolled lazily to the kitchen. Being lazy was my new activity these days. After all, what was a girl to do if she didn’t have to hunt for a roof to sleep under or look for a meal to eat? So, my days were filled with watching TV, napping, and cooking. Just so I wouldn’t feel too entitled and call myself a rich white woman, I threw in some Italian and English lessons. I’d been quick to pick up languages everywhere I went. It turned out I had a talent for it. Imagine that. Me having a talent for anything other than to suck strange men’s cocks. I’d given up on that talent now. The only cock in my mouth these days had a direct link to my heart.

I took the pot from the drawer next to the cooker and set it on the burner. I was in the mood for some curry. The pretty brown lady…cristo…I need to stop calling her that. Divya, as she had requested I call her, had shown me how to make one, andeven though I’d made it two days ago, I was in the mood for one again. Something about the burn from the spices sliding down my throat made it addictive. Just like my soap operas.

I was right. Divya was nice to me. She truly didn’t seem to care where I was from. Her husband, not so much. He didn’t say or do anything to make me feel out of place, but his glares told me he hadn’t forgiven me yet. I’d been annoyed. Until I learned that those earrings had been a gift from Divya’s dead dad to her dead mum. Yeah, I wouldn’t forgive myself, either.

I was reaching for the garam masala on the top shelf when warm hands squeezed my naked ass. I flicked a glance behind my shoulder.How did I end up winning this man?He stood behind me with nothing but a towel around his hips and a devilish grin on his thick lips. I swatted his hands off me. “I’m going to cook.”

He ignored me and let his hands bunch his shirt I was wearing and roll it onto my back.

“Marco,” I whined half-heartedly.

When his harsh voice vibrated in my ear, I abandoned my plans for cooking. “Dessert first.”

Fuck, this man.He was hot and horny all the time, and I wasn’t complaining. The garam masala stayed in the cupboard. I reached back and tugged his towel, and it dropped in a thick heap on the floor. His hands made work of popping my buttons and swept inside to squeeze my tits.

“Had a good day?” he asked right before he plunged two fingers inside me.

I groaned loudly.

“Hmm…” he urged.

“Did nothing.” The night was dark, and I caught our reflection staring back at us from the window. Fuck, we looked hot.

“Fucking perfect,” he growled, biting my shoulder with his eyes on our reflection.

I wasn’t sure if he meant perfect that I did nothing, or that I was perfect. Knowing him, he meant both.

“I need to earn my living—”

A sharp whack stung my ass, and his fingers pulled out. “You are.” He plunged his cock in. “By taking my cock.”

I rolled my eyes. He’d taken to calling me his custom-made whore since he’d found my kink for dirty name calling. He was still as I fell with my forearms on the countertop and shoved my ass back. It was crazy shit talk for anyone but us. For us, this was what worked. He pulled out and said with a devious gleam in his eyes, “I had a great day today.”

I scowled. His days were made up of beating up and killing men. “Who did you kill?”

“No one.”

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