LOGIN[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.
[Dante]People always knew when I arrived somewhere—mostly because I never arrived anywhere unannounced.I preferred meetings on my turf, conversations on my terms, and people on my schedule. So the look on George Whitford's security guard's face when I randomly showed up without a word said enough.Thankfully, I didn't need to start explaining who I was. Not after I'd been the one to find him a place to stay for the period of our business. Hence the security was somewhat familiar with me.George's house was loud from the outside—music, laughter and the noise of splashing water. Exactly the sort of environment that would give him an erection and give me alongside his neighbours a headache.I stepped into the open courtyard and stopped.I'd expected chaos, but not this.George strolled out of the poolside like an overfed Roman emperor—wet, bronzed and sporting nothing but an obscenely tight swimsuit he had no business wearing in public. His arms were draped around two bikini-clad women
[Dante]Somehow, I'd spent the last few hours in the station.My lawyer arrived twenty minutes later, but it didn't stop the officers from picking at me like hungry dogs circling a wounded animal.They kept their voices and words mostly professional but the way their eyes kept drifting over my file said everything: They'd already made up their minds."Mr. Wentworth," one of them said, tapping the thick folder with the back of his pen, "your record doesn't do you any favours."I kept my face blank. Still hated being addressed that way."My record," I repeated, leaning back in the chair. "You mean the one you keep misinterpreting?"My lawyer shot me a warning look, subtle but clear 'Don't antagonise them.'Why shouldn't I? Weren't they doing the same thing?The detective across from me pushed the file toward me, as if I needed proof of the life I'd lived."History of violent behaviour. Anger issues. A psychiatric evaluation at—""That was years ago," I frowned and my lawyer continued."
TRIGGER WARNING: SOME READERS MIGHT FIND THIS CHAPTER SLIGHTLY DISTURBING. (No Rape. No Violence)***[Bianca]When I came to, I was slouched upright on a couch. I could tell we weren't in the same apartment anymore.The air didn't smell like mould and bleach this time — just new furniture, coffee, and faint detergent. The curtains were heavy, beige. And though my limbs still felt sluggish, the pins and needles had begun to fade. Slowly, painfully, I was starting to feel myself again.Giovanni had knocked me out mid-drive just to keep me from knowing the way to his new place and its exact location. And ever since I came to, he had been in the bedroom for the last half hour, pacing and yelling into the phone.At first, I thought he was arguing with someone local—but then I realised he wasn't speaking English at all. It sounded like Italian. The words came fast and I couldn't understand a single one, but I didn't have to. His tone said everything.He was angry. Furious, even. Maybe fro
[Dante]The pounding at the door didn't stop."Police! Open up!"For a moment, I didn't move. The disconnected static of the phone still rang in my ear, my pulse still syncing with the caller's last words.Then the knocking came again, harder.I exhaled slowly and went to the door. When I opened it, several officers stood on the porch, away from the drizzle, their uniforms wet. Behind them, a patrol car idled at the edge of the drive, lights flashing red and blue across the marble steps."Mr. Dante Wentworth?" one of them asked, his tone clipped and official."Yes," I said evenly.The older officer stepped forward, holding out a folded document encased in a plastic sleeve. "We have a search warrant for the premises."I studied it without taking it. "Search warrant," I repeated. "For what exactly?"He cleared his throat. "Evidence relating to the possible homicide of one Malcolm Lee."For a few seconds, the words lingered between us.Malcolm.The same man whose head had been delivered
[Dante]"What? What do you mean?"The words came out sharper than I intended, but I was already sitting upright in bed, a frown spreading across my face.The voice on the other end of the phone was calm and professional. My private hand—a detective, fixer, dirt-digger, whatever label fit best—never wasted a breath. He said Bianca had booked a flight for this morning but never showed. No record of her boarding. No trace of her at the airport after check-in.I rubbed at my temples, trying to process, but he wasn't finished.He went on about the accident. The truck. The one that had rammed into my car that evening when Bianca was with me. Turns out it hadn't been an accident at all. The driver cracked under pressure, said he'd been paid to shadow my vehicle and hit us when given the chance. Apparently, it was an anonymous hire and he'd been paid in cash. The choice given to him was simple—take the money and carry out the task, or his family would pay instead.My jaw locked.The first th
[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







