[Dante]
My eyes narrowed at the woman below me who was trembling violently. Her skin was flushed pink, especially those succulent pair of ass cheeks I'd been relentlessly slamming into moments ago.
The agreement was clear: I could do whatever I wanted with her, and she was willing to endure even the most twisted of pleasures. I recognized desperation when I saw it and had no intention of showing her any mercy.
"You still want my money, don't you?" I demanded, my voice hoarse from the exertion of earlier.
She nodded, tongue out and panting heavily like a bitch in heat. I liked the hunger in her eyes—hell, I planned on getting my money's worth. Her blind submission was all thanks to the drugs I'd injected her with. The formula hadn't been perfected yet but it didn't need to be. Testing the prototype was half the thrill, especially for someone like Bianca.
She was everything I'd hoped for—young, beautiful, desperate enough to sign anything I put in front of her. But tonight wasn't just a game. Tonight was a test, a chance to see if she could handle a more... demanding role.
"Good girl," I growled, jerking the chain to force her head up, my voice a harsh whisper against her ear, "Now I want to see the face you make when you're on top, dirty little girl." A mischievous
I helped her up, taking her hand as I walked towards the place she'd sat earlier. I sat my ass down, tugging my trousers down to my knees.
With a simple yank of the chain, she knew what to do, climbing the concrete platform to hover above my dick, both her legs planted at each side.
Fuck...she looked so helpless, so defenceless like a tamed pup. I wanted to sink my teeth into her and leave marks over that pale, untainted skin. My eyes narrowed at the sight of her smoothly waxed core—it was just like I'd ordered.
My body clenched the second she grabbed my erect shaft, struggling to find her core. My throbbing cock ached to be inside her once more. I grabbed her waist, forcing my full length inside her.
"Eeek!" she squealed, throwing her head back as I helped move her. Her walls hugged my shaft tightly as she tried to hold onto something, anything. She grabbed my hair—that alone was threading dangerous waters...
I pulled my head back, out of her reach, a clear sign that I didn't want to be touched. She seemed to get the message, grabbing her tits instead and kneading them in an attempt to calm herself.
"Now ride..." I instructed, seeing how I'd kickstarted the process.
She obeyed, grabbing the edges of the concrete cuboid behind her to support her movements. I watched her pussy lips slide up and down my shaft—at times I wondered how the hell I even managed to fit into such a tiny hole.
Fuck...this felt good. Better than when I had to do all the work myself. Yet, I liked being in charge of things, it was a habit turned obsession.
I supported her motion—one hand on her waist and the other grabbing one tit. I couldn't take my eyes off those nearly perfect blue eyes of hers—it was enthralling, the way they rolled back in ecstasy.
'If you keep looking at me that way...' I huffed, speeding up my subtle thrust until I was fully in control again. I couldn't stop myself—lifting her legs over each of my shoulders while both hands supported her back, I rose from sitting.
She was so flexible—that alone was a turn-on.
I held her tightly, crouching slightly while riding my throbbing member deeper, and faster as she grabbed onto my arms for support. She was so tiny that our height difference felt almost sinful...like she was some sort of minor. But with a face like that and a body like this, I could tell that she was a fully grown woman—anybody could.
"Please! I can't..." she pleaded with watery eyes, her grip on my arms tightening.
I groaned at the sight of it. If she kept looking at me with those pathetic eyes, I might have cummed on the spot. Dirty little slut.
I shut my eyes and focused on fucking her slowly. The sound of her moans filled my ears, driving me wild. It had been so long since I'd enjoyed being with a woman so much—it felt too good to give up. Not yet, not when I hadn't gotten my money's worth.
I pushed her back against the wall, holding her there as she wrapped her legs around my torso. She wanted this as badly as I did.
Her fingers dug into my flesh as I sped up, pulling my hips back and forth, rocking us. It was too soon to come, but I knew I needed to be done.
I didn't want to rush through this; I wanted to savour every bit of her, even as I fucked her senseless.
I let out another low growl, lifting her legs further up so that I could bury myself even deeper inside her cunt. I pumped harder, hitting the right spot as she screamed and bucked against my hard cock.
"Fuck!" I cried out, sinking my teeth into the crook between her neck and shoulder, my hips bucking up as I came undone, the warm liquid spilling inside of her. She let out a loud shriek of pleasure and pain, gripping my arms tighter, trying to keep me there.
I knew she'd climaxed shortly before me, she wanted to hold me—the way lovers would hold one another after something like this.
But we weren't lovers.
With a grunt, I tore the weak woman off me, letting her slump down onto the floor. Her eyes were half-lidded, glassy from the intense orgasm. I unhooked her collar and then turned to gather the rest of my things.
She was on the ground panting, her legs too weakened to stand. My eyes barely lingered on her as I walked away. That was fun.
'Maybe we will meet again—no, we surely will.' I grinned before leaving her on the rooftop. Hopefully, she would return to her senses after the drugs wore off in a couple of minutes.
[Giovanni]I couldn't get a proper read on him. Not the way I wanted.Did he know about my little encounter with his alter ego, or was he still blissfully in the dark? Dante's face gave away nothing. His reactions were too controlled, his expressions too faint. No hint that he suspected me, or that he knew who I really was.Which only confirmed what I'd already begun to suspect—Mr. Wentworth was the dangerous one. Dante? He was the dull half. The boring one.Still, I hadn't expected him to apologise or even ask about Bianca.Lucky for him, my first delivery was probably already making its way to his doorstep.By then, we could talk once more.The door clicked shut behind me, muffling the sound of his voice as he made some calls. I didn't bother listening.I walked down the hall with my hands shoved into my pockets, wearing that same polite mask people liked so much. A nod to the receptionist, a quick smile to the guard by the elevator. "Have a good day," I said, because that's what ni
[Dante]I sat behind my desk, staring at nothing in particular. The stack of files in front of me hadn't been touched in hours. I wasn't even sure why I bothered showing up today. My head wasn't here. My body was, but my mind was somewhere else entirely.The one question that should have come sooner finally hit me:'What the hell was I even doing?'I hadn't come into the office for days, hiding behind a flimsy excuse of being sick. In truth, I'd been strung out—too many pills, too much booze, chasing a high I thought would smother everything I didn't want to feel. It was pathetic. Embarrassing even.And Bianca had seen me like that.Fuck.The last time I saw her, she'd come by my place. I'd been high, half gone, trying to act like nothing was wrong. I thought I'd managed it. I thought I'd fooled her. But the memory wouldn't let me lie to myself anymore—my pulse had jumped the second I saw her, my chest tight and I knew saying too much would have given it off. She must have noticed. O
TRIGGER WARNING: SOME READERS MIGHT FIND THIS CHAPTER SLIGHTLY DISTURBING. (No Rape. No Violence)***[Bianca]I came to with a groan that dragged up from the back of my throat before I could stop it. My head throbbed, pounding like someone had hammered nails into the base of my skull. Strangely though, my body felt... good. Too good. Warmth slid across my face in slow, sticky trickles, while my limbs floated, impossibly light. Almost like I was floating on clouds.For a second, I thought I was dreaming. Maybe I was still asleep. Before I could begin to think of what had happened or open my eyes, a low grunt pierced through my haze. And then warmth spattered across my cheek again.Instantly, my eyes flew open.I wasn't dreaming.I was naked. Lying in a bathtub. And above me—oh God—above me stood Giovanni. Naked. His broad shoulders high, the flex of his thighs, the obscene rhythm of his hand pumping his cock while the other balanced a phone, angled down at me.Horror swallowed me who
[Mr. Wentworth]Hehe...It had been far too long since Dante let me out. The poor bastard had been slipping lately — all thanks to her. Bianca. His precious little blonde weakness.I should have killed her already. The deal was for her to find a way to make Dante slip more often, wasn't it? She failed her end, and I always collect. But I didn't like rushing. Death was quick. Destruction was... sweeter.The only reason I had any freedom at all was because she'd cracked Dante's perfect façade. The great Dante, reduced to a panting, drugged-up animal rutting to forget his misery. He couldn't even get hard without chemical help now. Ha! All those years of self-control, undone by a woman.Pathetic. Laughable. But far from enough.When Dante numbed himself with pills, I waited. Whenever he slept, I woke. But that meant our body never got enough sleep, never stayed at its peak. Even now, I was far from being in peak condition.He thought wearing himself out would cage me but all he was doing
[Giovanni]Bianca tried to stomp my head, as if her bare heel could crush something already tempered by worse. She didn't know I'd had men twice her size break bottles over my skull, or women with sharper nails carve my skin. Compared to that, her flailing was child's play.Her feet kicked back and forth in a frantic rhythm, each strike grazing air, her desperation almost endearing. I sat up, laughter spilling out of me—ragged, manic, amused at the futility of her rebellion—while dragging her closer like she was nothing more than a fish snagged on a hook.And then—crack.Her foot connected with my jaw and for a second, my grip loosened. She tore free, diving toward the gun.But she was sloppy. They always were.I lunged faster, my hand smacking the weapon out of hers. It clattered across the floorboards again, farther this time. I didn't even bother looking at it. Instead, I shoved her down, knees pinning her hips, my weight pressing over her.Now I was sitting on her back, her arms
[Giovanni]The first thing I did when I walked into the bathroom was crank the tap on. Water hissed out of the showerhead, steaming up the mirror, filling the silence with some noise.I didn't step under it right away. Instead, I turned toward the sink, rolled up my sleeves, and scrubbed my hands like they were dripping with filth I couldn't see. The taste of her saliva lingered at the back of my throat, sour and cloying, and I pressed my lips into a tight line. Deeply uncomfortable.I leaned over the porcelain sink, then forced two fingers down my throat—thank the Lord for gag reflexes—and let the bile rise. It burned, splattering into the sink. I exhaled once, then washed my tongue, until nothing but bitter saliva coated my tongue. My grip on the sink tightened until my knuckles paled.Kissing. What a joke.I spat, turned the faucet on, and rinsed out my mouth until the water ran clear. I hated the smell of it, hated the sticky residue it left on my skin. "Disgusting," I muttered,