Page 28 of All’s Fair In Love & War (The Bulgari Cartel #2)

She didn’t answer—she just spread her legs wider, her pussy glistening like she was already dripping for me. And goddamn, I was ready to ruin her.

The next landed across the left, a bit meaner, and she didn’t cry out. Instead, Sophia pressed her body harder into the bench, her nails denting the velvet, a soft gasp escaping her beautiful lips.

I delivered the third across the crease of her ass, just above the lace thong, the impact sharp and immediate.

“Color?” I asked, voice low.

She tilted her chin, eyes narrow but alert. “Green,” she replied, her word crisp and annoyed, letting me know she wanted more.

I tossed the crop aside and dragged my palm up the inside of her thigh until I felt the heat between her legs. She was wet and getting off on this like I’d predicted she would.

I cupped her pussy, thumb grazing the edge of that soaked lace. “You could’ve worn nothing,” I rumbled, voice gone gravel. “But you wore this for me. Tell me why.”

She didn’t glance back, just said, “Because I came here to fuck. I didn’t want you to think this was anything more.”

She said it so matter-of-factly, without a goddamn ounce of apology in her tone. I’d met men who confessed to murder with more shame in their voice.

I almost laughed, but the sight of her, bent over the velvet, took the edge off my amusement and replaced it with the pure compulsion to see how far she’d let me take it.

I hooked my finger into the lace, tugged the thong aside, and ran my tongue down the length of her slit.

I wanted to taste her. There was a hint of salt, the musk of skin, and then that faint electric tang I only ever found in women who liked to disobey.

She shivered from crown to tailbone, the shock of my tongue forcing a gasp out of her. I didn’t tease her long, only enough to make her greedily arch her back deeper.

Her voice came out, ragged and almost mockingly sweet, “Are you going to keep playing with your food, or are you planning to actually eat?”

Then her hand shot back with the speed of a striking snake, palm flattening against my chest, nails biting the skin through my shirt. She twisted off the bench, eyes locked on mine, lips curled into something almost cruel.

Sophia adjusted her position, sitting on the edge of the bench with her legs slightly apart. She reached back, slid her thong down, removed it, and clenched it in her hand.

"You really don’t know who you’re fucking with, Dallas," she said, her eyes defiantly locking onto mine. "You thought I would come here, you’d fuck the shit out of me, and I’d walk away with my pussy tucked between my legs?

" She slapped me across the face and grabbed a fistful of my hair. “You got the wrong bitch.”

My hair wasn’t long, barely even an inch, but the grip she had on me made my scalp scream.

The pain made my ears ring, but my blood sang, and I snapped to, grabbing Sophia by the wrist and twisting her arm behind her back so fast her body slammed to the velvet with a thud.

She gasped, a flash of pain in her eyes, but that wild, rabid smile never faltered.

Her thigh muscles flexed as she tried to buck me, but I pressed my weight into her, pinning her easily.

“Something tells me you’re used to weak ass niggas that let you have your way, but I’m not them. I’m the last motherfucker you’ll ever break.”

Her laughter was low and feral as she met my eyes in the mirror, the black glass amplifying every warped reflection of us.

“Then hit me like you mean it,” she spat, daring me to take things further.

The line between violence and worship was as thin as a damn hair, and I’d walked it blindfolded.

I let go of her wrists, fingers trailing down her arms until I hooked her elbows and forced her deeper into the bench.

She was nose to velvet and ass pointed toward the city as I bit the back of her neck hard enough to mark her.

Sophia moaned, the sound rolling out of her so sweet it made my tooth ache.

“You wanna play?” My voice rumbled, sitting right on the edge of a laugh. “Fine. We’ll play, but this time, you follow my rules.”

Her answer came out in a reckless, damn-near girlish giggle, wild at the edges but sharp like broken glass. I pressed both her wrists together, grinding bone to bone, then wrapped her lace thong around them like makeshift cuffs to remind her who was in control.

“Color?” I asked again, lips brushing her hair, voice low enough to hum inside her skull.

She barely paused. “Still green, muthafucka.”

Nodding, I slid my fingers between her thighs, and when I pulled them free, they glistened.

Without breaking eye contact, I licked them clean, then shoved them into her mouth.

She bit down, hard, eyes locked on mine through the mirror across the room.

Sophia wanted the fight, and she damn sure was gonna get it.

When she growled around my fingers, I snatched them out, leaving her lips slick and swollen.

"Open your fuckin' legs."

She obeyed, spreading her legs slowly and deliberately as if she was opening the gates of hell and daring me to walk through.

And I did.

One brutal thrust buried me inside her, so deep and fast it knocked a scream out of her throat and slammed her hips against the bench.

“Fuck!” she cried out, head jerking back, spine arching like her body didn’t know whether to fight or beg for more.

“Keep running your mouth now,” I growled, slamming into her again, “Let’s see how smart that mouth is when I’m fucking it shut from the other end.”

Her laugh was breathless, wrecked, but still arrogant. “You think this is breaking me?” she panted. “Please. You’re not even scratching the surface.”

I grabbed her by the throat and dragged her up until her back was against my chest, still fully impaled on my dick. Even with wrists bound and her body trembling, that mouth that goddamn mouth kept going.

I whispered into her ear, biting her lobe between my teeth. “You wanna come? Beg.”

She scoffed. “For you? Nigga, fuck you! I’ll never beg for this weak ass dick,” she replied, making me chuckle as I yanked her back by the hair and drove into her harder, faster, balls slapping against her soaked pussy loud enough to drown out her defiance.

She gasped, trying to twist away, so I bent her over again and fucked her into the velvet like I was trying to fuck the attitude out of her soul.

"You talk too much shit," I snarled, each word punched out between thrusts. "Lemme give that pretty pussy something to scream about."

"Do it then," she snapped, face flush, drool sliding down her chin. “Stop making promises you can’t keep.”

I slapped her ass so hard it echoed. “Keep playing with me.”

Then I grabbed the crop again and slapped the inside of her thigh to see her twitch. That time, she flinched and moaned.

“Color?” I kept asking to ensure she remembered her safe word. I didn’t want to get too wild and hurt her too badly, though it may have been fun.

“Green, motherfucker.”

I pulled out and flipped her over so fast she barely had time to breathe. I grabbed her thighs and shoved them apart, my dick slick and aching as I lined up again.

“You wanted the fun stuff,” I said, voice raw. “Here it is.”

Then I fucked her with everything I had. No rhythm, no finesse. Just power and punishment, hips snapping like vengeance made flesh. She clawed at my chest, bit my shoulder, tried to fight the release building inside her, but I wasn’t letting up.

She came with a scream, back bowing, pussy clenching like a fucking vice.

And I didn’t stop.

I fucked her through it, ignoring the spasms, the shaking legs, the breathless pleas disguised as insults.

“You done yet?” I sneered, grabbing her jaw and forcing her to look at me. “Or you want me to come all over your fucking face too?”

Her eyes gleamed, dangerous and wild. “Do it, nigga. I didn’t come here because I’m afraid of that nasty shit.”

Goddamn! I wasn’t expecting that.

I pulled out, stroked myself once, twice, then came across her chest and neck in thick, hot ropes, watching it drip down those perfect breasts I’d painted with my kids.

Sophia lay there, wrists bound, covered in sweat and cum, chest rising and falling like she’d just run a marathon. She licked her lips, a smug grin creeping back.

“Just know fucking you changes nothing,” she whispered.

I leaned down, kissed her hard, and sucked on her bottom lip until she whimpered, then pulled back to growl: “Bitch, this changed everything .”

Sophia was still catching her breath when I yanked her up by her bound wrists and dragged her to her knees in front of me, ignoring the trail of my cum dripping down her chest. Her hair was wild, her face flushed, her lips swollen, and her eyes locked on mine as if she wanted more.

“Open your mouth,” I said, dick already half-hard again, slick and twitching.

She smirked and leaned in slowly, tongue flicking over the tip, not to please me but to taunt. “You didn’t say please.”

I grabbed the back of her head and shoved my dick past her lips, deep enough to make her gag.

“That wasn’t a request.”

Sophia choked but didn’t pull back. Instead, she moaned, vibrating around me. I thrust deeper, holding her there, letting her nose press into my pelvis, until she started to struggle, and only then did I let her breathe.

Her mascara was smeared now, spit dripping down her chin, and still—still—that gleam was in her eye.

She popped off with a gasp, coughed, then licked her lips like I was her favorite meal.

“You fuck like you’re new to this.”

I hauled her up to her feet, spun her around, and shoved her up against the mirror. “I fuck like I own the deed to your body and your next breath depends on how deep I go.”

She laughed, breathless and hoarse. “TI can’t tell.”

That was it.

I grabbed her throat and fucked her from behind again, this time with one hand around her neck and the other braced on the glass. The mirror shook with every thrust, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing around the room like a soundtrack.

She clawed at the glass, screaming my name, cursing me out, and begging for more even as she came again, dripping down both our legs.

I didn’t slow.

Didn’t ease up.

I bent low, biting her shoulder until she gasped.

“You’re moaning for the same dick your family swore to kill,” I growled into her neck. “That make you wet, baby?”

Her head snapped back so fast it cracked against my chin. Before I could curse, her mouth crashed into mine, wild and savage. She kissed me with tongue, teeth, and fury, and then, when I least expected it, she bit down on my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

I tasted copper. Even grinned against her mouth. But I didn’t pull back.

“Don’t mention my family, nigga,” she whispered, licking the sting like a trophy. “Now enjoy this pussy, and shut the fuck up before I change my mind.”

So I did.

I shoved her down to the floor, grabbed a fistful of her curls, and slid my dick back between her lips. She sucked like she was starving, like her mouth had something to prove. I used it, dragged her right to the brink, then flipped her onto her back and drove in, raw, deep, and mean.

This bitch wanted to talk shit?

I’d fuck a baby into her.

Then she wouldn’t just be their family.

She’d also be mine .

Sophia’s legs locked around my waist, nails raking down my chest, her voice shredded and shaky as she whispered, “I hate you.”

“Good,” I grunted, fucking her so hard her back arched off the floor. “Hate this dick.”

“I do.”

“You’re lying,” I chuckled, and didn’t stop until she came again, screaming into my mouth as I swallowed the sound.

I followed right after, growling her name and coating her insides with every ounce of the war still living in my blood.

We lay there tangled, breathless, dripping in sweat, cum, and mutual disrespect.

And when she finally spoke, voice rough, throat sore, lips swollen—she said the coldest shit I’d ever heard.

“Good dick, Dallas... but it’s still not unforgettable.”