Chapter 43: Chapter Forty-Three

Frankie fell back against the elevator wall with a groan. He might have taken things too far during sparring. Was it a good idea to break a rib, dislocate his right ring finger and possibly cause internal hemorrhage the day before meeting with a Russian mobster and having a hand-to-hand fight with the only man who stood a chance against him? Maybe. That was probably what Gloria was pissed about.

He watched her walk to the farthest wall from him. Her arms were crossed like they had been when she barged onto the mat and took his opponent down with a distracted shove and kick that set his blood boiling in a completely different way. Then she’d given him that look. The look that wiped the blood from his body, peeled back his skin, disintegrated his bones, dissected his organs and stared directly at his withered soul. She’d seen him. And dismissed his tactics of distraction with a mere roll of her eyes.

Frankie could hear her tapping her foot. He could see out of one eye the angry flush to her face. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

“Was all that worth it? Do you feel better?” she asked, her disappointed voice coming from directly in front of him.

Frankie shrugged.

“You need a better way to release your anger, Frank, or you’ll get yourself killed.”

“I have other methods.”

“And they are?”

Frankie let his head fall forward and dragged his eyes over her curious expression, down her throat, over her breasts lifted upward by her crossed arms. There was one release that quieted his mind as much as pain. The opposite. For a moment, he thought of telling her exactly what would help alleviate his discomfort. Then the thoughts he’d managed to bury beneath the pain roared back to life. The contract. What she’d been put through. How she’d been violated every three months. What he’d so carelessly taken from her. He shrugged again.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Frankie…”

“Gloria, I’m fine.”

Frankie closed his eyes and laid his head back against the wall. When the elevator came to an unannounced, jarring stop he knew he was in for it. What he didn’t know was that her tiny fist could deliver such a powerful punch to the gut. Frankie’s eyes shot open in time to watch the muscles in her left arm tense as she sent a second punch to the same spot.

Frankie engaged his core and her fist struck with a thud. But that didn’t stop her. When she tried to hit him with a jab in his bruised liver, he caught her wrist. Before she could recalibrate, he twisted her wrist, spun her around and slammed her against the wall.

“What the fuck are you doing, Vixen?” Frankie growled, ignoring the pain radiating out of his stomach where her first punch had landed.

Her breathing was heavy as she turned her head and sneered back at him. “Don’t worry about it,” she mocked.

She drove her heel into his foot a second before she plowed her elbow into his gut. Frankie loosened his hold as he hissed, allowing her the leverage she needed to push against the wall and send him stumbling backward. He was forced to deflect blow after blow from the little gremlin hitting him with jabs that would knock most men to their knees. Then a knife appeared. As he avoided the edge that could cut him to the bone, a task made more difficult in the small space that allowed her to move with grace and precision, he noticed something. It was his knife. The little bitch stole a knife from the stash he had at the club.

“Alright,” Frankie growled. “Playtime’s over.”

He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. She hissed through clenched teeth but her assault didn’t stop. She thrusted the knife and it found its mark in his arm. Then she stopped. He looked from her to the knife sticking out of his arm and back again. Her clenched teeth turned into a smile filled with pride.

“Really?” he asked, pulling the knife from his arm.

“You pulled my hair. Really?”

“A proper fighter uses whatever advantage he can. What’s the point of all this, Gloria?”

“To prove something.”

“And that is?” he asked, tightening his hold in her hair to bring her closer.

“I’m not a porcelain doll that crumbles to pieces with the slightest fracture.” Gloria succeeded in shoving away from him. “I’m not defenseless. I’m not weak. Something shitty happened to me but that doesn’t mean I’m damaged.”

“I never thought…”

“Then do it,” Gloria taunted. Frankie raised a brow. Gloria licked her lips. She took a nervous step forward and ran her hands up his torso. There was hesitancy in her touch, like she wasn’t sure how he would react and was worried he would reject her. She looked up, her honey eyes melting with heat. “Do it,” she pleaded. “I want you to use me to…”

The desperation, the want, in her voice made the decision for him. He clasped her face in his hands and inhaled her shocked gasp as he captured her lips with his. He backed her up against the elevator doors and lifted her. Gloria wrapped her thighs around his waist in a vice-like grip that shot pain up his spinal column. He groaned as his teeth grated against hers. He smacked his palm against the button that restarted the elevator.

Gloria’s hips rocked against his cock, hardened by her little knife assault, while his hands found her ass to help guide her through the movements. The elevator dinged. Frankie adjusted her weight so she wouldn’t crash to the floor. He walked her toward the door to his home but rather than press her back against it, he dropped his hold. Her feet hit the ground and she looked up at him in anticipation.

“Turn around,” he ordered, his voice caught beneath the lump in his throat. She hesitantly turned and looked over her shoulder.

Frankie dropped to his knees. He pulled her pants down revealing a tiny thong as the only barrier between him and heaven. He leaned forward and sunk his teeth into the meat of one asscheek, making her squeak.

“Let us in, Gloria, or I’ll fuck you out here. Hurry, I’m not feeling particularly patient anymore.”

Frankie held his key up which she snatched with shaking fingers. He could hear her scrambling to enter the correct codes while he hooked a finger around the string of her thong and skimmed downward. She shoved the door open and he pushed her forward. She struggled to walk with her pants around her knees.

“Clothes off,” he demanded, already pulling his shirt over his head. She watched him stalk toward her as she backed away while simultaneously kicking her shoes off. “Changed your mind, Vixen?” he asked, noting how rapidly her chest was rising and falling.

Her back hit the wall with a whack. She shook her head slowly. “No.”

“Good,” he growled, pinning her to the wall so she couldn’t escape even if she wanted to.

He pulled her shirt over her head as she shimmied her pants the rest of the way off and unbuttoned his. The second his pants hit the floor, he claimed her mouth. He dropped his hand and ran his middle finger between the folds of her pussy through her panties. Gloria jerked against his hand and moaned into his mouth as her wetness seeped through the cloth.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, Vixen. You weren’t angry, were you? You were turned the fuck on, weren’t you?” He groaned as he ripped her panties away and she gasped. “You’re right, Vixen. You’re not weak. You’re so fucking strong I can’t resist.”

His finger returned to her heat and her nails dug into his shoulders as he swiped it through her wetness. He took a nipple into his mouth at the same time as he slid a finger inside her core.

“Oh, fuuuuuck,” Gloria moaned, pushing her hips forward.

Frankie rolled his tongue over the sensitive bud and released it with a pop. “Does it feel that good you have to cuss, Vixen?” He inserted a second finger and she shuddered violently. “This is mine now. No one else will touch you here but me ever again and I’ll kill anyone else who has.”

Frankie dropped his hand from her pussy and hauled her up. Her arms wrapped around his neck, threatening to strangle him as he brushed his cock along her entrance. She shook and her eyes fluttered upwards as she bit her lip. He kept his eyes on her face as he thrust upward, entering her with a growl of satisfaction. He bottomed out and froze. God.

Before the previous night, Frankie Donati had never gone without a condom. Kids were a nonstarter and his activities were frequent enough that contracting a venereal disease was a serious possibility. He’d made a choice at a young age that he would wait for ‘the one.’ Romantic? Maybe not. Worth the wait? Fucking hell yes. As he felt her warmth clamp around his cock without a latex barrier, he understood why most men accepted the risks.

Frankie would stay seated in her for eternity if he could, memorizing the way her walls contracted around him. It wasn’t until she started to whimper and roll her hips against him that he forced himself to move. They both gasped as he pulled out and rocked back into her. He clenched his teeth, wishing so very badly he could make this feeling last forever. He knew though, as her wetness caused lewd noises with each smack of his hips against hers and his cock throbbed to experience the heated pleasure of erupting in her womb, he only had a short window to help her reach her peak.

Frankie dropped his head and wrapped his lips around a nipple, making her tremble and moan his name. His balls constricted and he clapped a hand over her mouth to keep her from doing it again.

“Stop,” he warned her with a shake of his head.

She looked at him, her eyelids drooping with unsated lust. “Huh?”

He brushed his nose across her collarbone and up her neck as he slid himself through her folds. “If you keep saying my name like that, I’ll come inside you before I can push you over the edge.”

Frankie inserted his cock an inch and watched with satisfaction as her eyes rolled up again.

“I don’t care about me. This is supposed to be for you,” Gloria gasped as she pulled him in another inch. Oh, how little she knew of her own power over him.

He chuckled and tsked as he sucked on the skin of her throat. “You should always care about getting what you’re owed, Vixen. Whether it be money, revenge, respect, or this…” Another inch. A long desperate moan.

“Please,” she begged as he pulled out of her again.

“You want me to make you cum now, Vixen?”

She nodded eagerly. He planted his free hand against the wall and drove into her. Gloria cried out and braced her own hand against the wall as he hammered up into her. The chords of his neck strained as he pressed his forehead against her shoulder, praying to a God he didn’t believe in to let him last long enough.

“Yes, yes, Frankie, Oh God.”

Something about the way she said his name while he was buried inside her. The desperation, the need, the claim. His balls constricted again, but this time he didn’t hold back. He buried himself to the hilt once more as his cock pulsed his release, shooting his cum into her heat. Gloria gasped. Her nails dug into him. Something about his cum coating her walls, sent her over the edge into her own climax. Her mouth opened but no noise came out as her body shuttered around him. Their climaxes rolled over them, weakening Frankie’s knees and making Gloria go limp.

A moment passed as they came down from their highs. Her head fell against his shoulder. Her breath fanned his neck, causing goosebumps to rise over every inch of his skin. “Mne kazhetsya, ya vlyublyayus' v tebya, —I think I’m falling in love with you,—” she whispered against his skin.

Frankie’s entire body locked at her words. His breath stalled in his chest. Before his mind could fully grasp the meaning of her confession, her body tensed.

“Frankie.”

Frankie looked up to find her gaze locked on something to their right. He glanced over to see a figure stumbling out of his security room. Frankie pushed her further against the wall, trying to conceal her naked body.

“Oh, shit, my bad,” the man said, his eyes lingering a second too long as he walked back into the security room.

“Who the heck is that?” Gloria asked, her breathing still labored.

“Conor.”