I need it. My pussy is tipping toward him. I need him.

I break back, gasping. “What the fuck am I doing?”

His voice is low, like a rusty blade. “Looks like you’re firing up a fuck.”

“I can’t. What am I doing, giving it up for you?” I’m still holding his cock. He’s still got his smirk. I want to eat them both. I want to eat all of him.

“You’re a virgin!” How can he read me like that? Fucker! I hate him.

“Mia Moretti. Mafia princess and sex witch Mia is a fucking virgin.” His laugh drives me insane. I have go make him stop.

My voice is nowhere near calm. “Why is that so surprising?”

I start to walk a circle around him.

“Aside from the fact that you look like a ten thousand dollar whore, you mean? Or should I say ‘escort,’ and spare your blushes.”

He walks around me. We’re making some kind of a figure of eight. His nostrils flare and his pupils are huge.

I say, “I’m not blushing.” I totally am. “Call me a whore if you want. I don’t care.” It’s not true. I do. But in a way that I don’t understand. Then, “Would you pay ten thousand dollars to fuck me?”

I’m moving nearer the wall.

“Well, it’s academic.” He leers. Damn him.


“Because I’m going to fuck you for free.”

I want to argue with that. Who’s going to fuck who. But I leave it. For now. “But would you?”


“Yeah. Ten k for a fuck.” My back leans against the cement wall. “Would you pay that?”

“The truth? For a fuck? No chance.” And he laughs. “But for you? I’d pay double that and more.” He smirks. “If I wasn’t already getting it for free.”

“You must be about the most infuriating man on the whole damned planet, you know that?”

“Why thank you. That must be the nicest thing you ever said to me.”

He’s on me.

His hands on my breasts. Squeezing. Spilling thrills and tingles out, all over me. His finger tracing my mound. My ass. My hood. My channel. Oh, god.

Without me thinking, my fingers unbuckled his belt. They’re opening the rivet buttons on his black jeans. All on their own. My breath rasps hot.

“Oh, god, Mia,” he drawls, lewd. Filthy. The hot rod of flesh pulses as my fingers curl around it. “I’ve hunted you, Mia, and I loved the hunt. And now you’ve caught me.“

God damn. He’s huge. Do people really do this? It doesn’t seem possible. I grip it. It feels like dark magic.

“It wasn’t your cunt I was hunting, Mia,” his hand makes me tremble and quiver as he rubs on my channel, “but now you’ve got my cock in your hands,” I have and I can’t believe it. “Now I’m going to have to drill you.”

He opens my pants. Slides his hand inside, over my buzzing, swollen wetness for a feel. As he peels my leather pants off, he says, “Maybe it’s a shame your first time is up against a cement wall in a garage in the middle of nowhere.”

I rub the length of his cock. It’s too long to get all of it in me. And it’s too thick. I moan as he finds my clit. Oh, damn, he knows how to work that.

He gets my speed. Moves around the outside, tugging and teasing.

But hard. Fast.

Like I do. Sometimes.

I manage to say, “And a shame it’s with a brutal asshole whose name I don’t…” Fuck!

An idea takes hold in my mind.

“Why are you so determined to make me hate you?”

“You’ve got enough talent for hating me,” his finger is inside. Against my will, my walls are clinging around it. Treacherous juices spill into the palm of his hand. “You hate me perfectly well without needing my help.”

“But you still are. You’re working at it. You want me to hate you.”

His fingers find their way up. I’m gripping his cock and collapsing, wide-eyed and breathless on his shoulder.

Breathing hot on my neck, his voice scrapes low in my ear, “We both want the same thing then.”

There’s an answer. It’s just out of reach. I know it and I need it. But I’m afraid of it. And I need to feel his cock first. I need it where his fingers are. If I can stand it. If it doesn’t tear me apart.

“I hate you so much right now.” I’m trying to sing it. To shout it. But it smokes out low. Hoarse, in a whisper.

It even turns me on. Especially as his teeth graze my neck.

He opens my shirt.

“You are beautiful, Mia.”

“Beautiful like a ten-thousand dollar whore?”

“No, Mia.” He lifts me by my ass. Holds me so my lips have him to my opening. “Beautiful like you. Beautiful like nobody else.”

My wings flutter on him. All my body wants him. Adores him.

Only in my lonely mind, trapped and isolated up here like fucking Rapunzel, only my head knows who he is. What he is. Why I shouldn’t let him do this to me.

Tags: Frankie Love Crime
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