Page 8 of Enemy of Ours #1

“Please, Romeo. Make me yours. Mark me. Paint me, rub your cum into my skin so everyone knows who I belong to.” She presses her lips against my cock, swirling her tongue around the tip and moaning as she tastes the cum that leaks out with each greedy swipe.

“And who do you belong to?” My voice comes out deep, possessive, and jealous.

She had better have the right answer because I’ll go on a murdering streak at just the thought of another man’s name coming out between those lush lips.

“Romeo,” she moans, slipping her open mouth over me, taking my cock deep down into her throat while stretching her tongue wide to lick on the underside of the throbbing vein.

“That’s right. You only want my cum. Here it comes, pet.” I warn her, flexing my hips to drive my cock deeper down her throat until I hear her gagging. She’s trying to swallow around me as she chokes on my cock, but she just ends up squeezing me tighter.

My vision blurs, my fantasy taking me over the edge as I squeeze my fist tightly around the tip, holding her panties over it to paint it in ropes of cum. Five pumps later, my legs are fucking weak as I breathe heavily and lean back against the wall.

Fucking hell.

That was a strong, messy one. I feel like I’m going insane the longer I spend away from her.

Especially seeing my cum soaking her panties just before I stuff them in my pants pocket.

I tuck my cock away, promising myself one day I’ll have her warming it with her pussy.

As I cuddle her close throughout the night, I plan to never let go while I fill her sweet pussy to the brim with my cum.

I roll my eyes at myself. I'm left wondering when I turned into such a simp. It must have been when I first saw her again. It seems just like yesterday. It’s seared into my brain; she’s tattooed there so she never leaves me.

I shake my head, refusing to let those memories affect me; otherwise, I’ll spend the entire day stuck in the elevator, daydreaming about her.

Taking a deep breath, I wipe my left hand down my face, which isn't smeared with the sticky residue of my cum, and suddenly I feel exhausted right down to my very bones. It’s been three years; I can’t continue like this much longer.

Perhaps the best course of action would be to abduct her immediately and end the situation of us being apart.

No, you need to be a little more patient.

With a small pep talk and maybe a side of yesterday’s torture session on my mind, I feel somewhat better.

I wonder if Victor received his gift yet?

My men know not to call, message, or even breathe in my direction when I’m spending time with Iris, unless it’s a big fucking emergency.

Therefore, I believe everything must have gone smoothly.

Victor will not have a peaceful morning when he discovers Marco hanging by his balls in his territory.

My lips switch into a small curl, and I end up pressing the com button while placing my jacket back over my arm in front of my pants just in case some of my cum ended up shooting anywhere besides her panties.

I can’t help that my body produces a lot of cum.

I’m a big guy in the prime of my life and have been without sex for three whole fucking years.

My hand has been attached to my dick to relieve any stress.

I can’t complain too much; Iris is worth it all in the end.

“Sir. Would you like me to turn off the emergency call button now so you may make it to the lobby floor?” Jack’s voice comes out dry and calm through the speakers, and the man deserves a big tip for being discreet.

“Yes. That would be fine. Thank you.” I grumble quietly and clear my throat, noticing the camera’s light turning back on with a blinking flash of red.

I could have waited at least until I made it to my car before stroking my cock since I have blackout windows, but damn.

She inspires me to do outrageous things, such as masturbating in an elevator right after leaving her apartment.

Uncontrollable urges have never been a problem for me, but then I set my eyes on Iris surrounded by blossom trees and sunshine, and from that day forward, I became a man I never thought I’d become.

Jealous.

Obsessive.

Possessive.

Wanting.

Most days, I hardly recognize myself. I was trained from an early age not to show my emotions, to be better, and to make sure the family name means something because someone is always watching.

They're waiting for you to fuck up so they can take your kingdom away in the blink of an eye. That never happened to my father. People respected him. People trusted him to make the right decisions for both the family and the business. I’ve looked up to my Don since I was little, and that feeling still hasn’t gone away years after his death.

The ding of the doors sliding open brings me out of my thoughts; I didn’t even realize the elevator was moving again.

Jack is waiting there for me to step out, his old eyes giving me a knowing look without him saying a word.

Because he is such a good man, I pull a clip of money out of my wallet and silently slip it into his breast pocket as I walk by him.

Once outside, I glance both ways before crossing the street at a jog and head over to my building.

Tossing my car keys to the valet, he sighs in relief and quickly runs to my car parked right in front of the building.

The kid probably thought he was going to hear shit from the higher-ups at his job, but no one will say a damn word.

They will take one look at my car and back off, admittedly.

They don’t want to get on my bad side, and since I own the fucking building, no one questions me.

There are benefits when you instill an unwavering fear of God in people.

It only takes one glance into my eyes, which look like you're gazing into a starless night sky, for a man to piss himself. Most men claim it’s like looking at the devil; eyes so black, I seem soulless.

I really do think I was born into this world to make people bend to my will.

Becoming the Don was the second-best thing that’s ever happened to me; it gives me a purpose. The first… is and always will be Iris.

It takes no time before I’m stepping into my living room; the automatic blinds open at my arrival and bring in the morning sunlight from the east. I don’t bother bringing up my camera to check on my girl; I have a clear view from my windows into hers.

Our floors are aligned directly across from each other.

It’s my other favorite hobby. I love observing her from the comfort of my couch, enjoying a glass of scotch as she reclines on the ottoman near her windows, her face tilted towards the sun, as she tunes into smutty audiobooks through her earbuds.

Her plump lips part in the beginning of a smile, her amusement showing with a twitch of her eyebrows.

I see every detail, her face so expressive, and she’s not even aware I see all her movements, either through my cameras placed around our house or the times I actually get out my binoculars so I don’t miss a single moment of her life.

The temptation is too strong. I pull my binoculars from under the couch and peer into them, her image coming into focus without me having to adjust the lens.

I might spend too much time watching her, but I’m starved for her.

Any piece she will give me. It’s mine. So I help myself to watching her.

She’s currently sitting by the window as always, her face tilted up towards the sky as she drinks from her favorite coffee mug.

A small sigh leaves her lips at the first sip of coffee, her shoulders slumping in these few moments of peace.

I just wish I knew what she was thinking about.

When she finds out I’ve been here this whole time, she’s going to be pissed as hell, but it will be worth it because we can finally be together. It’s all I’ve ever wanted since the first moment I laid eyes on her.