Page 9 of Mafia King: Matteo (Borrelli Mafia #1)

MATTEO

I want to say it was a coincidence that Alena and I happened to meet, but I’m too calculating. I leave very little up to chance.

“Are we on a first-name basis yet, Mr. Grey?” She flirts.

“Not yet. But soon.” I know not knowing my real name drives her crazy, but I like the mystique of it.

“A true man of mystery,” she says with a smile and lights up the dark interior of the limo. It’s a dreary day filled with gray skies.

I push a button, and the one-way glass between us closes. I wasn’t prepared for her to sit so close to me in the warm, confined space. She smells fresh and sweet.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind, Angelica?” I refrain from smiling. I’m not overly affectionate with women I fuck.

“It’s your limo,” she states, evading the question.

“So it is,” I reply before I lean down and claim her red lips. They are soft, like pillows.

She eagerly meets my increasing demand on her lips, and her arms snake around my neck. I loosen my tie before I pull her into my broad chest. I inhale her soft, scented perfume as I run my hand through her long hair. Her lips are sublime, and my cock grows hard.

She rubs over the zipper that contains my stallion and moans softly as I suck on her neck.

I should be dealing with Mr. Wu, but I can’t resist my desire to be with her. I like the name Angelica, but I can’t help but wonder what her legal name is. One of my associates is gathering information on her, so her real name will be forthcoming.

“What will it be, Angel?” I ask. “I have a meeting to attend. I don’t have a lot of time.”

She unzips my pants, and my cock salutes her. She helps me push down my boxers and sinks to her knees on the limo floor. Wrapping her manicured red nails around my cock, she strokes the shaft and takes my tip in her mouth.

Fuck! Her lips are gorgeous, and I stare, fascinated by this well-dressed socialite with a sex drive. I find her thrilling.

“That feels so good. I love watching you fuck me with your gorgeous lips,” I say, placing my hand on her head. I want to toss her like a rag doll and explore her body.

I’m oblivious to the limo starting or stopping in traffic. Time has no meaning. I’m experiencing the most exquisite euphoria, surpassed only by her warm pussy milking me last night.

Her mouth moves expertly, sucking my balls and filling her throat with my cock. I groan and fist her thick hair.

I’m on the verge of coming.

“Stop,” I order her.

Her lips freeze on my cock. It takes all my willpower not to explode.

I place my hands on her shapely sides and lift her off the floorboards.

“I want to fuck you now.”

“You have a meeting.”

“Fuck the meeting. I have to have you,” I reply. I begin to undress her, peeling off layers of clothing. Her hands are on my suit, pushing my jacket off my shoulders. I shrug out of my jacket and fling it on the seat across from us.

“You’re wearing too much,” I complain.

“Will people see us?” she asks, shrugging out of her coat.

“Do you care?”

“Not really,” she murmurs between kisses on my neck.

I pull my thin T-shirt over my head and toss it.

Her nails gently rake over my back before she moves a hand to caress my face.

I unbutton her blouse and tug it off. I unhook her bra, and her boobs spring forth like a fountain of youth.

I promptly take a nipple between my teeth, giving her a nip that makes her squeal.

I massage her boobs as I repeatedly flick a thumb over her pert nipples.

Her blue eyes remind me of the azure water off Italy’s coast. I’m sinking into them as I pull her skirt up and sink two fingers into her pussy.

“You’re wet for me,” I murmur against her cheek. My mouth descends on hers, ravaging her plump lips. She meets me with equal intensity, and her breathing quickens. I move my fingers in and out of her pussy while rubbing her nub with my thumb.

“Ah,” she moans, pulling her lips away from me as she takes a breath.

“Do you like this?”

“Hmm.”

“What does my Angel want?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

I suck on her breasts and then move to her hard nipple. The car is warm. I love the fact that her body responds to me without having to touch her. She was dripping for me the minute our eyes met.

I can’t point fingers. My cock was hard the minute she stepped out of the store.

“I don’t have a condom,” I say. “I’m clean.”

“I’m on the pill.”

I’ve always practiced safe sex and worn condoms. It’s my way to avoid pregnancy and getting trapped in a marriage. With Angelica, my need to feel her skin against mine, without protection, supersedes precaution. I’m so excited my cock is ready to explode.

I pull my fingers out and place them in her partially open mouth. She sucks on them, and it’s sexy as hell.

I position her so she’s flat on the seat. Her boobs are on full display. With one foot planted on the floor and the other foot on the seat, I angle myself over her and line up my cock with her pink pussy. I gently slide into her and feel every muscle squeeze around me. God, she’s tight.

Using my leg as leverage, I thrust deeper. She grabs the door and the back of the seat to brace herself, but it’s useless. There’s nothing to hold. Instead, she clings to my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin as I fuck her hard and harder.

Her hands clamp onto my shoulders. Her nails are leveraged as I continue to thrust into her.

She moves over the slippery leather. I continue to pound her with my huge cock.

She wails, making a loud and extended “Ahs.” She writhes under me as she climaxes.

Her body consumes me. Her pussy clenches around my cock.

When she’s finished with one last shudder, she opens her eyes.

I meet her gaze. I explode, filling her with my seed.

I collapse, careful not to put all my weight on her. My legs are shot. Once I’ve regained my breath, I lean backward and grab white square napkins from the bar. I gently clean her and dispose of the napkins.

She pulls her skirt down and straightens herself, looking for her clothing.

“Where can I take you?” I ask.

“Out to dinner.”

I look at her in question, contemplating a date. She gives me an impish smile that turns me inside out.

“That would mean we’d no longer have hot, meaningless sex,” I respond.

“Don’t you just hate that?” she replies as she quickly dresses, and I search for my shirt.

“I’d hate for you to see who I really am. I might be different at night.”

“Unless you’re a vampire, I doubt it.”

I chuckle.

“That’s an intriguing offer—dinner. I’ll consider it.”

“Great. You can drop me off at 59 th Street.”

“I can drop you off at your place,” I offer. I know where she lives. But that would be presumptuous of me to intrude on her perceived anonymity.

“And ruin chance encounters?”

“You have a point.”

Angelica dons her coat and makes herself presentable as I speak to Gio through the open window and give him instructions.

He pulls to the side of the road, opens the door facing the sidewalk, and retrieves the bags from the trunk.

“Thank you for the lift,” she says, thanking my driver.

“No problem at all,” Gio says before returning to the driver’s seat.

I stick my head out the window.

“What about me?”

She leans down and kisses my lips. It’s a kiss that could easily lead to round two.

“Behave yourself,” she says before she turns on her boot heels and walks away.

“Damn, that’s cold,” I murmur to Gio.

“It’s safer this way. Besides, we need to get to Wu,” he says.

“Right. Let’s go. Any word on her real name?”

“I’ll tell you as soon as I find out.”

It takes thirty minutes to get to the building, where Antonio has Mr. Wu strapped to a chair. He’s been worked over, yet he’s determined to defy me.

“Mr. Wu. You’re being disrespectful.” I take off my suit jacket and roll up the sleeves on my shirt.

I punch him in the gut.

“Who owns your property?”

“I not tell you,” he replies in broken English before spitting in my face.

“That’s the last time you get to do that.” I look at Antonio.

“It appears his property has been signed over to a shell corporation. However, we’ve loosely linked it to the Sidovo family over the years.”

“The Russians?” I exclaim. “How the fuck did that happen?” I glare at Antonio. Love made him weak. He lost his focus. He should have killed Wu before Christmas.

Wu is chuckling.

“I’m sorry, Matteo. We had him under surveillance and didn’t pick up any meetings with our rivals.”

I extend my hand. Antonio places a 9mm in it.

“I hope you hid your family well, or I’ll kill them all,” I say, enjoying the terrified look on his face before I squeeze the trigger.

“You didn’t want to torture him?” Gio asks.

“He’s been through more torture than I could ever deliver. Did you see the scars on his hands and arms? He most likely escaped a work camp as a child in China. They survived on will alone. You’re talking about communist work camps,” I say.

I pick up a rag from the floor, wipe my prints off the gun, and hand it to Antonio. “Clean this shit up, and don’t be lazy. Trouble is coming, and I need you to be alert, or it will cost us our lives. Do I need to be concerned about your future performance?”

“No, sir. I’ll make sure I don’t make any more mistakes,” Antonio says.

His father, Carlo, is the youngest of my father’s brothers. He’s the only uncle I like. I have to keep an eye on Antonio and his old man. Art of War—keep your friends close, your enemies closer. Looks like we’re going to be fucking—kissing cousins.

I’ve considered Carlo the least threatening as he was mothered more than the others and only had slight infractions with the family.

He likes to bet but has the lock on running numbers, like a lottery and illegal betting.

He runs numbers in his head and has a photographic memory, so nothing is written down.

With no paper trail, everything he does is deniable.

In essence, we have a walking money machine. He knows when to lay off bets and knows every client on the island. He maintains a low profile and causes me no grief—or so I assume.

Have things changed?

I turn to Gio.

“What the fuck? How did the Russians find out what we were buying? It’s a huge fucking city.

It’s an attempt by someone to make me look bad.

” This building is under construction, and I pass a fold-up chair as we leave.

I kick a random folding chair in anger. It sails through the chilly air only to crash with the sounds of cheap metal to console me.

“We’ll figure it out. We always do. Wu might have been fucking you over. He knows anyone connected would pay over what it’s worth to fuck you. It could have been someone who followed your old man. Maybe someone overheard him, or one of your uncles sold us out.”

“You’re right. We’re where we are now. I need to do damage control.”

My phone rings. It’s a guard tasked with Angelica.

“I have information for you. Her name is Alena Pasnov. She’s Russian. Her father is the consigliere to Alexsei Sidovo—of the Russian bratva.”

“Thank you, Leo. You’ve been most helpful.”

I turn to Gio.

“I think I found a way to even things with the Russians.”

My lips curl into a rare smile. Not only is Alena someone, but she will be my someone, and it will keep her father in line. Men who piss me off have a debt to pay.

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