[Bianca]
***
"Close those fucking legs!" He raged out, half startling me as I swiftly closed my legs. This man was so...weird.
One minute he was unreadable and the next he'd lost his temper.
I slowly turned my gaze towards him, my mouth parted in surprise as I watched him rummage through his luggage. The sight alone gave me goosebumps—
He pulled out a pair of black plastic gloves, then a strange collar with a chain attached to it. "Come here," he twisted his neck, rising with his hands stretched upwards.
I hesitantly obeyed, walking up to him as he rose to place the collar on my neck—it came with a gag that prevented me from making any noises.
He reached down into another compartment and I thought my life was over.
'It's a knife! It's got to be!' If so, why was I still standing here?
Maybe because I'd let this fucking psycho wrap the collar chain around his left hand like I was some kind of wild dog.
To my surprise, he returned with a syringe.
Panicking, I tensed, ready to fight back. Before I could react, he stabbed the needle deep into my shoulder, injecting its contents into my bloodstream.
I tried to scream, to flee, but the chain yanked me back, keeping me locked in place. Tears streamed out of my eyelids as I bit down on the gag, knowing it was over—my life was over.
'My life is over.'
'My life...'
'My...haha,' I smiled, feeling the world around me spin. My body felt warm and light, a euphoric sensation rushing through me.
'Mother...fucker,' I chuckled against the gag, wobbling towards him with a clenched fist which flew straight for his face.
It missed, of course, sending me stumbling over the air.
He instantly grabbed my waist, holding me in place as he took off his mask, seeing that whatever he'd shot up my arm was working. Yet, I couldn't make out his face—only that devilish grin.
"I want to violate your body," he whispered, licking my earlobe before biting it lightly. He yanked my chains, pressing his erection against my stomach. "Beg me not to," he scoffed.
I whimpered until he forced the gag off. My mind fought to stay clear, but the drug muddled my thoughts, making it impossible to think straight. Instead of a scream, a soft "Please..." escaped my lips.
His eyes darkened with satisfaction as he guided me downward, the chain still firmly in his grip. My hands fumbled with his belt where his bulge teased imprints. My movements were clumsy, the effects of whatever he'd injected still coursing through me, making my fingers fumble with the leather. His eyes never left mine, watching me closely, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he allowed me to struggle.
By the time the zipper came loose, his thick, long cock raised its head, poking my cheek.
"Fuck..." I moaned, unable to look away. All I wanted to do was shove the length of it down my throat, but here I was, waiting to be told to do so.
He grabbed my hair, tilting my head back so that I looked him in the eye. He moved his finger over his cock, watching it swell and harden as he stroked it against my face. "Go ahead," his tip brushed against my lips.
My sloppy tongue trailed down his shaft, feeling his cock stiffened even more. My tongue circled the tip while one hand stroked down his thick member, earning a low groan.
"Eyes up, tongue out" he growled out, rocking his hips forward to meet my strokes. I could feel his erection poking down my throat and the fact that I had no gag reflex seemed to put him off.
"Ohh...that's fucking hot..." he whispered, grinding his hips against my warm, moist mouth while one hand held my skull in place.
With every stroke of his cock, my tongue swirled around it, causing it to tighten further. I was taking the whole thing down my throat like a pro and this man was more endowed than your average Joe.
He suddenly pulled away, unwilling to cum in my mouth before he could get down to business—after all, he spent a lot of money on this.
He yanked my chain, forcing me to get down on all fours as he positioned himself behind me, resting his erection between my butt cheeks as he spanked me hard. He took his gloves off, tugging my panties to the side as he grabbed both ass cheeks, squeezing them against his cock as he thrust between them.
He was teasing me, trying to drive me insane by doing this. And hell, it was working. All I wanted was for this man to put it in, my insides burning with lust.
He slipped two fingers between my wet folds, pleased to find me soaked and ready.
In a moment, he shoved his fingers inside, thrusting in, out and around in an attempt to stretch my walls.
A soft moan escaped my mouth, urging him onward—to do with me as he pleased.
Instead, he took his fingers out attempting to shove his erection inside my soaking pussy but missing the hole twice.
I reached out between my legs to grab it, knowing what this overbearing punk wanted and what I needed.
'I need to put it in,' was all I could think as my fingers curled around his shaft, rubbing it against my clit as I arched downward to get the aim right.
The moment my ass rose, he shoved his cock deep inside me, pumping hard as I gasped loudly.
His cock was huge and impossibly wide, so much so that I could feel it sliding in and out of me as my walls contracted around it.
"Nghh~" was all I could say, my eyes half rolled back in pleasure.
He yanked my chain, forcing my body up and my head against his shoulder. He grabbed my breasts, forcing my shirt open so the buttons popped. He squeezed those two supple lumps, kneading and moulding them while riding my ass like a damned rodeo.
My back arched further the moment he pinched my nipples, tugging and tweaking them until they hardened. He held those tits as he owned them—squeezing them as if they owed him buckets full of milk.
His thrusts grew increasingly fast, hitting me with such force that our bodies clapping might have echoed through the whole building.
I whimpered when he forced my body down to the ground without pulling out, my nipples pressing against the cold, hard ground.
"What..." Before I could ask, I felt his teeth sink into my shoulder, his balls spanking my clit mercilessly as he pumped harder.
I winced in pain when he bit harder, leaving teeth marks spread across my back.
"You fucking slut...ughhh," he groaned, his body tightening as he came undone inside me. That could have been the end of it, but when I glanced back, his cock was still erect, stained with traces of both our fluids.
He was panting when he pulled back, and an unsatisfied frown spread across his face like this was just a warm-up.
This man said he was going to violate me...and I had a feeling that he hadn't even begun.
[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,