Trophy 15

“I don’t believe for a second that one meth lab is all you know about. There’s more. Tell me.”

Bella flopped down on her back, driving her head into the pillow. “You’re no fucking fun, you know that?”

Frank stood. His cock was going hard, a demanding, massing presence down the leg of his pants, but he wouldn’t let it make him vulnerable to this woman. If he let her lead him around by the dick, he might as well put a gun to his head and save some time.

“I’ll give you some time to think it over.”

“Wait!” Bella reached out. Grabbed his hand. The fingers that had been inside her.

Frank didn’t pull it away. “Yes?”

“You know I’m just a floozy, right? I’m not the power behind the throne type. I like a good fuck, a hot meal, and a soft bed. What do I know about drug deals or anything like that? Why would you think I know that stuff?” She kissed his hand. Sucked on the fingers that had made her come.

“I don’t. You know things, but that’s not why I took you.”

“Why then? Is it just because I look better tied to your bed than some goomba?”

“It throws Belucci off-balance. He doesn’t know who took you or why. That’ll make him jumpy.”

Bella laughed out loud. Like a cat, she held his hand to her cheek and rubbed against it. “Frank, Frank, Frank… maybe it is a good thing you took me, because you really need the inside scoop. Vincenzo won’t give a shit that I’m gone. He barely notices I’m there. I don’t show up? He thinks I’m at a spa or sleeping in. He may consider that I’ve been kidnapped, but it’s just as likely he’ll think I ran away or overdosed on something. Even committed suicide. It won’t bother him. He’ll send someone after me, but only because I’m his. Rich men never give up their toys—even the ones they don’t play with.”

Frank considered arguing that at least this way, he could be sure Bella was out of the line of fire, but that still left the groundskeepers and waitstaff at Vincenzo’s mansion. It wasn’t like he was going to abduct all of them.

“If you really wanted to get to him…” Bella began, drawing his hand down her chest and into her corset, where her succulent breast fit to his grip like a ripe fruit.

Frank could see where she was leading him. He squeezed, massaged, rubbing delight into Bella’s waiting flesh.

“Mmm…” Bella’s head drifted back. “This is the problem with foreplay. Men only do it before. It’s so much more fun when it’s before, during, and after… and before again…”

“You were saying?” Frank prompted, keeping up the massage. He didn’t want to play games, the start and stop of it. Bella was too smart for that.

“You want to get to Vincenzo, you pin this on someone else. Give him a target. Something to really hate on.”

“Like who? The Scagliones?”

“No, he’d never believe it. Too brazen. And he wouldn’t buy that they’d bring me over instead of keeping me there, telling them what he’s thinking.” Bella laughed at the idea. In high spirits now that she’d gotten him to play with her.

Frank moved his hand to her other breast, digging his fingers into its juiciness. Her corset was askew now, exposing the nipple of the tit he’d just finished groping. It heaved, bringing the nipple in and out of view, and Frank wanted to go back to caressing her there. He wanted to touch both her tits, touch all of her. Fingering her, playing with her tits, even slapping her—it all hit his system like a dose of heroin.

“Who else is there?” Frank demanded.

Bella mewled deliriously. “Mmmhh… the Somalis. They’re mad dogs. Crazy. The Scagliones are supposed to be running them, but even they don’t trust them. If Vincenzo decides they took me, he won’t know what to think. Whether the Scagliones ordered it or they did it on their own… it’ll fuck him up. Get into his head.”

“You said he wouldn’t believe the Scagliones making a move against him.”

“He wouldn’t,” Bella stressed. “Not if it was spelled out for him. But if he couldn’t be sure, you see… Vincenzo likes being sure. Say you like my tits, baby.”

“Who says I do?”

“Ohhh… you’re damn sure touching them like you like them. Just like you touched my pussy. You liked that too. Hell, I might start thinking you like me. Tits and ass and cunt—what else does a woman need, huh Frank?”

She pulled his hand away from her swollen breasts with their bee-stung nipples and guided it down between her legs.

“More fingers this time, Frank. I took two cocks—you think I can’t take four fingers?”

He let her push his hand against her sex, but didn’t take up the dance like she wanted him to. Just let her throb into his hand in all her wetness, all her heat. Frank wondered if it was him that’d made her so wet, or the thought of screwing over her husband.

Realizing he wasn’t going to finger her, Bella groaned aloud. “Porca miseria!”

“Blaming a bunch of black people for committing a crime isn’t enough of a genius idea to get you an orgasm. You’re going to have to do more.”

“More? Che cazzo, what are you talking about? Look at me! What more do I need to do? More make-up? More lingerie? I’ll put it on, I promise you I’ll put it on, just fuck me now. If you want me to beg, I’ll beg. I know how sexy it can be when someone begs me; it must be the same for a man. But I won’t do it for nothing. Promise me I’ll get your cock, show me your cock, and I’ll beg for it. Yes, you’d like that… knowing what a whore I am before you even put it in me… then realizing you have no idea. I see what you have in there, Mr. Castle. I’ll come so many times on it. But give me something, ti prego, even Rumpelstiltskin needed straw to spin into gold!”

She struck such an odd note of plaintiveness and seduction that Frank had to realize something. Bella wasn’t a hostage. She was an informant. He had to act as her handler, not her captor. That meant giving into her a little, letting her have enough of a taste of power to tell herself she had a say in what direction the train was going. It would build trust, buy him some loyalty.

The heat he felt in his groin was like a fire, making the contents of his balls boil and his shaft long for the cool air that would embrace it the moment he unzipped. His heart thundered in eagerness, being under the eye of Belladonna Belucci. He sensed she saw his deliberation. That decided it. If he could not convince her he was iron-hard, he could at least demonstrate to her that he could swing in her favor, were she to put enough work into persuading him.

He pulled down the tab on his zipper, but slowly. Drinking in Bella’s mingled eagerness and apprehension. It excited him too. Frank told himself it was just the chase coming to an end, the flirting being over and the surrender being imminent. But Bella’s eyes ate him up like a starving animal at red meat. He felt like an animal as well. Especially when his thickened erection came into view and Bella’s eyes lit up, exhilarated at the thought of the joy she’d soon be in.

Frank composed himself, inwardly and outwardly. He took hold of his erection, though it didn’t need any handling to jut straight out, and held it up to Bella’s face. “You want my prick? Give me your mouth.”

“Oh, I want your prick,” Bella simpered. She reached out and took his pulsing erection in her hand. Already, ecstasy began to trickle into Frank’s body—it roared through him when she squeezed his dick, so intense he had to grit his teeth not to come. “And I want your cum. And I want you to look at me like the best cocksucker you’ve ever met.”

One hand cupped the bulging sack of his scrotum, fingers sliding through the bristling hair to take firm hold of the stones within. Bella clutched them in her hand, while at the same time her mouth captured the bluntly swollen head of his manhood. Her lips feathered over it, kissing and rubbing his glans, but not yet sucking. Rather, scintillating him until his need raged with an intensity that crushed pleasure and pain together. She was paying him back for denying her earlier, he knew, but he couldn’t bring himself to put an end to the performance.