The Priest: Bratva Blood Five: (A Dark Mafia Romance) by SR Jones & Skye Jones

Author:SR Jones & Skye Jones [Jones, SR]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-02-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

I tuck into my steak, and Roze eats her salad in her room.

I’m so fucking hard for her, I bet my dick could break down the door all on its own.

I’ve given her a chance. Part of me is hoping she’ll go to sleep and wake up deciding this is the worst idea ever. Then she’ll simply stop sending me all the signals and treat me like her bodyguard. Part of me is praying she wakes up and gives me her bratty, mouthwatering best.

I cut, breathe, chew, and swallow. Trying to find my Zen.

The steak is amazing, I have to say. Of course, it is. Everything Bianchi touches seems to be gold. The flash fucker sends a private jet, and if that’s not enough, he plies Roze with champagne and then gets designer clothing on board for her.

I’ve told Reece that I don’t like his vibe so far.

My phone vibrates with a text, and I read it.

He’s just looking out for her. No need to be jealous.

Jealous? I’m not fucking jealous, but it’s creepy. Weird. Overreaching.

I think back to a moment on the jet. She’d settled back in her chair with the new clothes and makeup fucking Bianchi had provided, licked her lips, and smiled.

“This lipstick reminds me of my aunt,” she had said. “It has a flavor.”

And… I suddenly wanted to know what flavor. I wanted to taste it right off her full mouth.

She looked good enough to eat in the simple clothes she chose while on the plane. The soft sweater had molded to her tits and shown me how perfect they were. I’ve already seen the goods. It hasn’t lessened my desire. Only made it stronger. More insistent. I want to see again. And again. I want to touch and taste too.

My cock is painful at the thought of her naked, under me.

I make myself finish the food, get up, and place my plate back on the tray.

There’s a knock at the door. I go to open it and see the blonde from the plane. Clements was she called?

“Yes?”

“I thought I’d see if you wanted some company?” She smiles at me, and it’s seductive. Polished. Practiced.

Things I normally like, but now pale into insignificance when compared to a brunette with pools for eyes and a cheeky side she hides until it bursts free.

“How much do you get paid for fucking the guests?” I ask.

She doesn’t react. Her cheeks don’t color. Nothing. “I don’t get paid,” she says with a shrug. “I’m Giovanni’s cousin. I work for him because it pays well, and I get an apartment here. I can screw who I want. There’s no pressure from him to do so, and no censure either, if I do take a shine to a passenger. I don’t often. In fact, you’re the first man I’ve come onto in over a year. It’s late. I’m tired but horny. You look like you’re in the same boat.” She glances pointedly at my dick. “You look like a beast in the sack, and I love it rough.

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