dirt: a novella (kitsune duet Book 1) by Daniels Daya

Author:Daniels, Daya
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sayad Books
Published: 2018-03-16T05:00:00+00:00

trois

ruin (verb); destroy, devastate, ravage

Olivier

I’D ASSUME IT’S DIFFICULT for a woman to talk with cock in her mouth. Hers is stuffed with it. The man standing in front of her fucks her mouth like it’s pussy. Soon those pouty lips of hers are covered in cum. But she doesn’t swallow it.

She knows better.

The only cum she swallows is mine.

Her brown eyes shine as she stares at me from a few feet away. She blinks those long lashes of hers a few times, then her mouth falls open in a big O. She bites her lip and lowers her head. Her long hair falls around her like a dark sheet, obscuring her face from everyone’s eyes.

He grunts like an ape, banging into Bijoux from behind.

The relentless sound of flesh smacking flesh fills this dark, smoke-filled room.

Exhaling, I relax against the back of the leather sofa, running a hand over my swollen cock.

Depeche Mode’s “Personal Jesus” sounds from the stereo. The harbor out the window twinkles with lights. The two-hundred-million-dollar yacht Jacqueline and I had arrived here on sits pretty on the dark sea, gleaming white, with three decks and a blood-red flag that reads Enustik.

If it tilts a certain way in the morning sunlight, the hull almost looks blue, but in the shade, it looks evergreen. The real color of it is emerald. It adapts to the light. To its surroundings. Like a chameleon.

The super-yacht belongs to Jacqueline and her father, Adel.

Adel is a businessman who’s nearly ninety years old now. I never anticipated he’d live this long. If I’d guessed he would’ve, I might have thought longer and much harder about my decision to marry his daughter. He isn’t from generations of money like me. Adel Bustave is a self-made man, rising up the ranks through a powerful organization that could only be

described as the French mafia, which has ties to the Italians and the Russians.

We’re into everything—guns, drugs, money laundering, murder, kidnapping...you name it. But somewhere in between there we do engage in legal dealings which help to keep us off the radar. Adel had invested his money well and most of it is in the bank right here in Monte Carlo. It’s only part of the reason why we’re in this city.

The Gaston family name helped Adel establish himself as a man of

“class.” It helped potential business associates to forget he really was trash who roamed the city streets of Paris eating out of garbage cans because his family had long since abandoned him as a boy.

The old man had always been someone I admired. But, in recent years, he’d become a man I’d grown to hate. He’d forgotten his place as had his big-headed daughter. And with every passing day, I began to hate the two of them more.

The Gaston family’s waning wealth had been an issue back then, many years ago when I’d agreed to marry Jacqueline, but it isn’t anymore. With my financial acumen gained from spending years at university in Switzerland, I’d helped Adel increase this empire fivefold.

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