Page 5 of Gardener for the Mafia

“Just focus on your work,” she says. “That’s all you can do for now.”

I nod and turn back to the flowerbed, biting down on my lip to remind myself that singing is a no-no. Just because he said I was allowed to, I can’t ignore the fact that singing is what brought him over here in the first place.

For a moment, a wayward thought darts into my mind like a Cupid’s arrow. I imagine that he wasn’t angry with me, that the tightness of his Adonis muscles wasn’t rage, but that he wanted me in the same way my body screams that it wants him.

“Stupid girl,” I whisper, talking to myself like I sometimes did at the orphanage when the long cold nights became too lonely.

I reach across and wind a weed around my fingers, gripping it tightly as I pull.

Chapter Three

Lorenzo

I sit in the back of the sedan as it glides through the city, grinding my teeth so hard I can hear the rubbing deep in my skull. My manhood is pressing like a flaming sword right up against my boxer briefs and my muscles are so engorged I’m surprised my dark blue suit doesn’t tear at the seams.

My thoughts have been a battleground all morning, Lena on one side and my business commitments on the other. I was able to drag my attention away for a few hours to deal with my business, but now that I’m riding the sedan back to the mansion, thoughts of Lena have returned like a counter attacking army.

I picture her in those shorts, remembering the way they climbed up into the soft folds of her sex. I knew if I pushed them just a little bit higher I’d see all of her creamy plus size perfect thighs, gripping into her scrumptious flesh and tasting the way she moaned with my ears, sampling her twitching desire with my eyes.

I wanted to grab the bun of her hair and loosen it, letting it cascade down her shoulders like a symbol of her fertility. It radiated from her like a signal, her womb yelling at me through the silence between us.

I had to leave before I took her right there in the flowerbed, and a woman like Lena deserves better than to be used like that. She deserves a four poster bed and a view of the city, sunlight slanting in like heavenly rays as I slide my manhood deep inside of her, as she arches her hips and glides her soaking wet sex down to my balls.

I clench my jaws, my heart thundering like Thor’s fury in my chest, all the lightning of primal history sparking and firing in my heart.

Claim her.

Take her.

Own her.

Seed her.

I need to plant my seed inside of her, pump until my balls are empty, and then wait for them to flood again and pump even harder.

I thumb the access pad and climb out of the car, passing the Roman statues and walking into the house. I walk past the artwork but turn left this time, heading up the carpeted stairs and past the full knight’s armor, standing erect with a polished halberd in its gloved hand. I walk to the rear of the house, to the third bathroom with its marble tub and gleaming floor, and peer out of the window at the garden below.

There she is.

My Eve.

She’s at the other end of the garden near the fountain, weeding the brickwork around the base where it joins with the well tended lawn. The water spatters into the air and some of it cascades down on her in droplets.

My mouth falls open as I hone my attention in on her, watching as her pale pink shirt clings to the mounds of her breasts. They bulge out and, as she leans over to pull a weed, her shirt lifts slightly revealing her belly. It’s all too easy to imagine it bulging with the bump my seed will gift her.

The more she weeds, the more her breasts jiggle, her hips shifting side to side when a weed proves particularly stubborn.

I reach down and clamp onto my eleven inch manhood, grinding my palm from the base to the tip through the fabric. I feel precome sticking to my briefs as my muscled python tries to escape my underwear.

I stroke slowly as I watch her, picturing myself behind her, sliding myself up her warm folds. I have to make her breasts jiggle in that same way, but from the motion of my manhood grinding inside of her. I’ll loop my arm around her chest and feel her breasts against my forearm, feel how pert her nipples get as desire blazes through her.

I squeeze harder onto my manhood. It pulsates and twitches as though any second it could erupt, but that would be wrong, that would be the biggest fucking sin I’ve ever committed.

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