Page 7 of Enemy of Ours #1

ROMEO

T he sun starts to slowly crest over the city and shine through the floor-to-ceiling windows, brightening our bedroom and making me sigh in disappointment. It is another day of having to leave before she opens her eyes and realizes that I am in bed with her.

Soon, though.

She’ll wake up every day in my arms, knowing I’m the one holding her all night, keeping her safe.

“I have to leave, but I’ll be watching on the cameras.

Try not to give Vinny a run for his money,” I whisper against her hairline, stroking her red hair from her face and skimming my fingertips gently over her scars around her eyes.

“You're so good for me, Iris. I’ll show you my appreciation with rewards soon. But we’ve also got some punishments to take care of, and I can’t wait to turn that beautiful ass red.

Be a good girl out there today… try not to hiss at strangers on the streets unless you absolutely have to.

” I slide my other hand down her side, gliding over her curves and pushing my hand under her T-shirt so I can feel her round, delicious ass cheek in my palm.

I can’t control myself when it comes to her.

Never could.

Before I know it, I’m hooking my thumb into the waistline of her underwear and sliding the flimsy silk down her smooth, creamy legs. She stirs in her sleep when the band of her underwear makes a snapping noise as I guide it over her feet and bring them up to my nose.

Inhaling deeply, I swear I smell pure honey and a hint of musk that makes my mouth water.

“Fuck,” I groan quietly, taking one more inhale before pocketing the silk and slowly extracting myself from her tight grip.

Sliding towards the edge of the bed as quietly as I can, I sit there for a moment just gazing at her. That one freckle on her inner thigh always drives me crazy; it stands out against her creamy white skin, prompting me to lean in and nudge her thighs farther apart for one last glimpse.

Ah, hell. Fuck it.

The moment I see her blush, pink pussy lips spread wide in her open position, I bend over her legs and lick a broad strip up her inner thigh.

It’s so tempting to shove my whole tongue into the sweet depths of her pretty cunt.

I circle the tip of my tongue over her freckle and breathe heavily in regret.

I hate leaving her. But duty calls, and I have a business to run, people to kill, and drugs to sell.

One day she’ll know who’s between her legs and that only I can bring her pleasure, make that sweet, dripping cunt cream just for me.

I heave myself off the bed, rubbing at my chest where it aches.

It’s fucking torture leaving her every morning.

Sofia sits up from her dog bed off to the side, her ears perked as she watches me place the duvet over Iris and walk towards the doorway on silent feet.

Pausing, I snap my fingers and point my index at the bed, waiting as our dog hops up and circles until she flops onto Iris’s side.

My girl lets out a shuddering breath, her brows scrunched as she stretches her legs in her sleep, and that’s my sign to leave before she hears me sneaking around.

I quietly walk down the hallway and into the kitchen to drop off more of the melatonin tea bags.

I still can’t believe this tea knocks her out as well as it does.

She sleeps peacefully each night like a rock, oblivious to the rest of the world.

Slipping the tea into the corner jar on the white quartz countertop, I see Inga out of the corner of my eye walk out from the side door of the kitchen that leads into the housekeeper's quarters.

“Mister Messina,” she whispers, nodding her head in respect as I turn towards her to watch her start to prepare a breakfast of toast, poached eggs, and a side of fresh-squeezed orange juice. This is the same breakfast that Iris enjoys every morning.

“Inga,” I say back, seeing her hand tremble as she cuts the orange into slices, and I hide my eye roll because after all this time, she really needs to stop being afraid of me.

Sure, I look scary, but she’s known me for years now.

I’m not going to hurt her unless the situation calls for it.

Some people are just judgmental. They scrutinize my tattoos, noticing the words "live and die" etched on my knuckles. They also notice the small tattoo of a rose located at my hairline, and then they instantly look at me like I’m a criminal. I mean, I am one, but still. What can I say? I’m a work of art and represent the family with more than just my gun.

I’m a big guy, standing over six feet four, and have muscles that strain against my button-ups.

Add in the tattoos and my eyes that are practically the color of coal…

yeah, I’m pretty scary to stare at for long unless it’s the female gaze lusting over my body.

Inga is not one of those women. The thought alone makes me shiver with a grimace before I smooth out my facial features and wait for her to look up from her slicing, watching her shaking, old, fragile body.

It doesn’t take her long before the silence gets to her, and her eyes glance up at me.

“She’s going to know you’re here if you stay any longer. The elevator incident yesterday proved that she can smell you out like a hound,” she whispers in her thick brogue, her voice quivering slightly as I lean away from the counter with my arms crossed over my chest.

“That wasn’t an accident. It’s time.” I smirk as she drops her knife with a clatter and stares up at me with wide, blue eyes.

“No,” she whispers, horrified.

“Yes,” my voice comes out with authority, leaving no room for arguments. “I’ll be paying O’Connor a visit today. We leave in two weeks' time.”

I’m already striding towards the front lobby entrance before she can speak another word, her gasp following me as I collect my items off the table and press the elevator button.

“God have mercy.” I hear Inga pray out loud just as the doors whoosh open and I step inside.

I look up from straightening my tie just in time to see Iris appear from the hallway in a long, red silk slip nightgown and matching robe.

“Inga? Who are you talking to?” she asks, confusion in her tone, but her head starts to turn towards where I’m standing, probably from the slide of the doors as they start to close. I don’t blink until the doors silently close and I’m heading down to the main lobby floor.

I can’t tell which I like more. Her in my t-shirts or nightgowns that leave little to the imagination.

I gaze down at my cock tenting my pants in the most painful way, shifting the rigid outline down to my right thigh with my one free hand as I cover the front of my body with my jacket folded over my forearm.

I don’t even have time… fuck. Visions of her in red lingerie, a garter belt, and matching red heels have me pressing the emergency stop button before I even realize what I'm doing. I can’t go see the fucking head of the Irish mob with an erection, and the reason my cock is close to bursting is his daughter.

This won’t do.

“Sir, is everything okay? I can have the fire department on the line in seconds.” Jack’s voice comes out calmly through the speaker on the panel next to the emergency button.

My hand slaps against the cold metal walls surrounding me, and my next exhale is shaky as I recall more images of her legs spread-eagled.

Her heels were positioned under the crease of her butt cheeks, meeting the back of her thighs, while her skin flushed pink as she willingly exposed herself under my stare.

“Turn off the cameras; I’ll push the call button when I need the elevator moving again.” My tone comes out as a deep command, and I direct my gaze at the blinking red light until it stops flashing.

“Done. Take your time, sir,” Jack says just before he disconnects.

“Already going to hell, might as well enjoy the time I have left. Fuck, Iris.” I growl through gritted teeth as I drop my jacket and reach into my trouser pocket.

When I feel her silky underwear, I wrap my fist around them as my other hand unzips my pants, reaching to pull out my throbbing, heavy, rigid cock.

She drives me crazy, an enchantress without realizing how desperate I’ve become for her. I swear her scent lingers in here. She stood a few feet away from me yesterday, dressed all in white like an angel. I’d give anything to have her here with me now.

Honey and vanilla fill my senses as I inhale deeply, realizing I really am smelling her from her underwear. I sniff her panties; a groan escapes my mouth before I can stop it. I bring my fist back down to wrap around my cock, stroking slowly enough to make my eyes roll back in my head.

“Fuck, Pet. You don’t know what you do to me, but you will soon.” I growl out loud, gritting my teeth as pleasure races down my spine at the second upward slow stroke, squeezing the head of my cock and feeling it throb just for her.

I envision her on her knees, her pink lips perfectly matched to the shade of her parted pussy lips, her hot breath gently blowing across the tight skin of my cock.

The image seems so real; the feel of her silk panties gliding over me with each pump could be as smooth as her mouth as I feed her inch by inch of my cock between her wet, parted lips.

Her cloudy green eyes gaze up at me for approval, eager to hear me groan and praise her for being such a good girl for me.

Only me.

My hand slides over my cock faster, unable to stop even if I wanted to, which I don’t. I lean over and spit on my pulsing dick, slamming my hand against the metal wall as I feel a fucking tingle at the base of my spine.

“My good girl. My only girl.” My fist pumps faster, harder, twisting over the head of my cock and smearing drops of pre-cum over the crotch of her panties.