The Mafia’s Pet
Each step is a cautious retreat from the monster before me.
Nathan sits up slowly, his black pants still around his thighs, exposing his erection. With dark, calculating eyes, he holds his hand out for the weapon. "Give me the gun, little pet," he demands, as if he truly believes I'll obey him. "Although I do enjoy gun play, I'm usually the one in charge. If you wanted me to fuck your ass with my gun, you could've just asked first."
I grit my teeth, my grip tightening on the gun as I aim it directly at his groin. "Well, play with this," I spit out, the words laced with venom. Without hesitation, I pull the trigger.
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