Iwipe my forehead with the back of my hand, surely leaving behind a streak of dirt, but it doesn’t matter because there’s something incredibly fulfilling about getting a little grimy while working in the garden. It’s authentic. Hot and sweaty, yes, but also calming in the craziest way.
To be sure, gardening was never something I was interested in until I saw the barren little plot in Roman’s backyard. It’s weird because this is a man who can afford the fanciest professionals to work the land, but he said he didn’t know any appropriate landscape design firms. As a result, I offered to take over and my man gave me free rein. Now, I’ve got a little vegetable plot, as well as the beginnings of a gorgeous flower bed on the right. I’ve even planted a tiny Japanese maple in the hopes that it will survive the cold New York winters.
But then a giggle escapes because actually, I’m gardening in the nude. Languorously, I reach for my sunblock and begin applying the lotion to my limbs, sensually rubbing the cream onto my forearms, then my tummy, and then the insides of my thighs. A brief frisson runs down my back because I know he’s watching. Roman’s got a great view of the garden from his office upstairs, and when I glance towards the townhouse, sure enough, there’s a twitch at the curtain.
With another giggle, I turn back to my work, kneeling in the dirt as my round rump rises in the air. I’m sure the handsome billionaire will be down soon. He’s never able to keep his hands off me for long, and at this point, it’s clear I’m not a prisoner anymore. I spend my days whiling about the house, doing whatever I please including swimming laps in the basement pool, watching movies in the mini-theater, or even concocting a few baked goods when his chef can spare the time to tutor me. Then at dinner, Roman joins me in the dining room and we indulge in a feast before repairing to the master suite for sexy shenanigans. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve had that massive cock in me now – I never seem to get enough, and the alpha male can’t get enough of my curves either.
But it’s not just about the physical intimacies. We enjoy spending time together, and talk about real things too. For one, I can be open about my time at Club Z because my man doesn’t judge me for my past. Sure I used to be a call girl, but he’s familiar with the profession. Plus, he understands that I come from an underprivileged background, and cares about my mental health in the here and now.
But the street runs both ways because I don’t judge my lover for what he does for work, either, although I will admit I’m impressed with his determination to legitimize his empire. Roman’s right, after all. There’s no need to risk jail time and the collapse of everything he’s built when he doesn’t need the money from trafficking. The bars and clubs are doing incredible business, and the Genoveses can go legit without putting everything on the line.
I giggle again because that frisson’s running through my frame once more, and I know my man must be watching. Playfully, I lean forwards on my hands and knees and lift my bottom in the air once more, waggling it at the big townhouse. Thank God the surrounding walls are high so that no one but Roman can see, and even though my face is practically pressed into the dirt at this point, it’s still fun to tease.
But then my eyes alight upon a rosebush nearby, and inspiration strikes. Straightening for a moment, I snip a rose bud from the bush and then hold it to my nose, inhaling the sweet fragrance. Goodness, I love the smell of a freshly-cut bloom, but I’m not stopping here. With another devious glance at Roman’s window, I slowly run the rose bud down my chin and then down my throat. The petals caress the ivory column, and I tilt my head back with a sigh while trailing the bloom down to my nipples, circling the pink areola for a moment. Hot shivers run straight from the pink crests down to my cunt, but this isn’t enough. With another sigh, I lean back and lie down in the dirt, getting comfortable. Then, I raise my knees and part them to the sky, exposing my sweet center. With a giggle, I slide the bloom down further until I’ve reached my nub, and begin running the tightly closed bud over my pussy. Oooh, yes! My eyes flutter closed and my head tilts back as I use the bud to pleasure myself. Hot jolts make my thighs quiver and a huge gush of nectar runs from my sweet spot, making me moan.
But then a shadow crosses over me, and before I even open my eyes, I already know who’s there. Sure enough, Roman’s looming above me, huge and dominant with a dark look in his eyes.
“You’re a naughty girl,” he rasps. “Fucking yourself with a rose in the middle of the day.”
I giggle and smile up at him. “Why, does it turn you on, Daddy?”
The mafia man loves when I call him “Daddy,” and those blue eyes glint dangerously. But he doesn’t even answer. Within seconds, the man is unzipped and that huge, hard cock is out, already dripping from the tip. I moan languorously as he fists it a few times, but Roman’s not wasting time today. He’s on his knees before me in a flash, and then he thrusts all the way in without warning, plunging deep into my small hole.
“Ohhhhh!” is my shrill scream of surprise. But it feels so good too, and soon, we’re going at it like animals in the dirt. In fact, I feel his balls rise, tightening as they get ready to spurt, and the root of his cock literally begins to pulse, he’s so close.
But then, a loud bang makes my ears ring and I blink, startled.
“What was that?” I whisper. My lover sails over the edge then, letting out a powerful growl in my ear as he fucks hard into my pussy, pumping me full of that viscous virility. But at the same time, my man’s also in motion. Even while coming furiously, he rolls us onto our sides until we’re shielded by a bench beneath one of the few trees in the yard.
Then, another series of pops sound and I look at him with surprised eyes.
“What is that?” I repeat.
My man doesn’t even reply. Instead, he pulls out, cock still dripping and twitching, and snatches something from beneath the bench. Wait, what is that? Belatedly, I realize a gun was taped to the bottom of the heavy slab, and to my surprise, my lover appears to know how to wield it. He scans the sky while brandishing the firearm, and sure enough, another loud pop sounds. By now, I’ve realized that those popping sounds are actually gunfire, and a muffled scream bursts from my throat. Roman ignores me, still scanning the sky before taking aim and firing off one shot.
I look up just in time to see a dark-clad figure tumble from the roof of a neighboring building before landing with a muffled thud a mere thirty feet away. If the gunshot didn’t kill him, the drop certainly will.
“Roman, what’s happening?” I cry, tears spilling from my eyes. “Why was that man shooting at us?”
But my lover doesn’t answer. Instead, he turns to me, his expression grim.
“Listen closely to everything I say, Taylor. Everything’s going to be fine, but we need to leave now, so go upstairs and pack a few things. Then, meet me down here.”
I stare at him.
“But where are we going? A safe house? Canada? Mexico?”
He shakes his head, expression grim.
“I don’t know yet, but I promise I will take care of you no matter what. But we need to go now, do you understand?”
I nod numbly, before getting to my feet. I’m still nude and Roman’s seed is dripping wetly down my thigh, but the urgent expression on his face makes me spark to life. With fear rippling through my body, I turn tail and run to my suite before grabbing a duffel bag from the closet and stuffing clothes inside. I don’t know what just happened, but I know I have to trust the mafia man. Otherwise, how will our love survive?
11
Roman
It’s been a week since Taylor and I landed in Moldova. The whole thing was rushed and scary, but my girl was enviably calm during the trip. She didn’t ask questions, merely clutching my hand during the plane ride, although her fingers were deathly cold the entire time. But now, we’re ensconced in a villa in the Moldovan countryside, and as far as I know, no one’s been able to track us.