Piccolo Quote Novels & Stories

"Anything, piccola." "Make... make love to me.”

Grandfather leaning in slightly said, "Respect. That’s good. But respect is earned, not given." The weight of his words lingered in the air. Everyone was silent, watching. Lucia met his gaze, not breaking eye contact. Lucia answered, "I agree, Signore. I hope, in time, I can earn yours." A faint, almost imperceptible smirk touches the corner of Grandfather’s mouth. He leaned back in his chair, tapping the table with one finger. Grandfather asked gravelly but softer, "and how is our piccolo", looking at her belly.

I immediately asked. The name was an Igbo name. "Wow yes. That's my full name. My name is chikaima, piccolo" That word again? Piccolo? What does that mean. "Piccolo? Meaning?"I asked as a smile formed by the corner of my lips. "Meaning a small beautiful instrument similar to the flute. It's an Italian word"he said smirking. "You think I'm small?"I asked with a frown. I knew I was small. Well compared to Ogechi, I was nothing.

That was saying a lot since my average body temperature was always close to scarlet fever. He trailed his hands up and down my sides, and my hips began to rock against him. He groaned into my neck before pulling back to look at me. “I want you, Piccolo.” “You want me to what?” I inquired, turning his words from earlier in the night against him. He chuckled before pecking me on the lips. “Didn’t you have me saying enough dirty things earlier?” I shrugged. “No, not nearly enough.” Again, he chuckled as he stood. “Well, I think it’s time I extract a little payback,” he stated, turning the TV off before walking down the hall to the bedroom.

He is mafia, damn it, stay away from him. She squeezed some facewash on her palm and washed her face. Her fingers once again stroked her cheeks, and she was thrown back to the moment when Vincenzo graced her cheeks with his lips. 'What does Piccolo mean?...' She thought. Quickly wrapping a towel around her body, she went outside and took her mobile to G****e it. 'Piccolo fiore means little flower...' She furrowed her eyebrows, amused. 'Ohh, that's a cute name... But why did he call me that...'

I would have to do a lot of work in convincing her that I was innocent of the allegations. "You are happy now, isn't it? Mucchio di sterco. [Pile of dung]" Piccolo glared at Liliana. His gaze came down to me and I winced, scared that he might fling me across the room. But he didn't. Instead, he walked off. Liliana flipped her hair back and came to stand. "You'll regret ever stepping into my territory. When I'm Luna, I'll make sure you pay for all the insults."

“You’re so tiny. I could throw you over my shoulder without any effort.” “I am not tiny. I am petite. There’s a difference. You make it sound like I should be a part of a Polly Pocket or something.” “What the hell is a Polly Pocket?” Lucy couldn’t help but laugh at his face. “You never had a Polly Pocket as a kid? It was this container…thing that was a house inside, and there were tiny figurines that went with it called Polly.” “You’re terrible at describing this.” Annoyed, she pulled up a photo of a Polly Pocket on her phone and showed it to him.