5. THE DARK GLEAM

Chapter 5: The Dark Gleam

As we walked into the open space of the runway, I was greeted by an impressive view of a freaking private jet. Normal people don't own a private jet, Don Matteo Russo was certainly not normal.

Matteo's voice broke through my thoughts, his words laced with a hint of amusement.

"Impressed, aren't you?"

I tore my gaze away from the grandeur of the private jet and met his gaze, my expression guarded.

"Don't mistake my curiosity for approval."

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "Feisty as ever."

I have never seen a private jet before, apart from in magazines or books, but this one looked magnificent.

His guards lined up at the entrance, two on each side. We walked in between them, and I felt as if I were the Queen of England.

They greeted each other, then one of them opened the door, revealing the rich interior of the jet. Stepping onto the jet, I was enveloped in luxury, unlike anything I had ever experienced.

The rich furnishings and lavish surroundings felt like a dream, a far cry from the dimly lit stage I called my home.

The Dark lord's intentions remained unclear, and my instincts told me that this encounter would shape my fate in ways I couldn't yet fathom.

With a deep breath, I braced myself for whatever was to come, determined to face it with the same defiance that had carried me this far.

His presence was commanding, the type that demanded attention, as he gestured for me to join him in a more secluded area.

He leaned closer, his breath sending shivers down my spine, and his hand reached out to touch me as if I were an object meant for his pleasure.

"You are mine, Laura," he purred, his voice dripping with arrogance.

"I can do whatever I want with and to you."

The words echoed in my mind, a haunting reminder of the power he believed he held over me. But I was not about to succumb to his desires or let him treat me like a possession.

"Over my dead body," I retorted, my voice defiant and my gaze unwavering.

“Necrophilia? That's one kink I haven't tried.”

He said those words so casually it made me scream, what was wrong with this man?

Undeterred, he leaned even closer, his lips dangerously close to mine. I could feel the pull of his gaze, the magnetic force trying to draw me in. He wanted to kiss me to assert his dominance further.

But at that moment, something inside me snapped. As his lips brushed against mine, I brought my palm up with all the force I could muster, delivering a slap across his face.

The sound of the slap reverberated through the air—a sharp crack that seemed to momentarily freeze time.

The Dark lord's head snapped to the side from the impact, his shock evident in his widened eyes.

I had palm slapped the mafia Don, I was indeed a goner.

For a moment, the world stood still. His hand pressed against his cheek, his expression a mixture of shock and indignation.

The audacity of my action seemed to have caught him off guard.

"You dare?" He began, his voice a low growl, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that gave me goosebumps.

Before he could finish his sentence, I spoke up, my voice unwavering despite the adrenaline coursing through me.

"I dare to defy anyone who thinks they can own or control me."

The tension in the air was thick and very much evident, and our gazes locked in a battle of wills.

The Dark lord's cheek was flushed with a deep red color where I had struck him, a stark contrast against his pale complexion. It was a slap that went beyond physical contact—a declaration that I would not be subdued.

In that fleeting moment, as we stared at each other, I realized that I had made my stand. I was not a possession, not an object to be owned. And no matter the consequences, I was prepared to face them head-on.

Our unspoken standoff spoke volume, and in that instance, I wasn't just a dancer from the club, his new object—I was a force to be reckoned with.

This was a clear show of dominance, and Don Matteo didn't like that I was taking the lead.

The encounter left an imprint, a memory that would linger. It was a small victory, a testament to my determination to retain control in a world where control was often elusive.

I leaned into my seat, replaying the confrontation in my mind. The allure of the Dark lord had been met with my resolute boundary, a testament to the power that simmered within me.

"Take off NOW!" He called to the pilot.

As the charged atmosphere between the Dark lord and me hung in the air, a gentle knock on the cabin door signaled the arrival of the air hostess.

Her presence was a stark contrast to the intensity that had enveloped the cabin just moments ago.

"Is there anything I can get for you?" she asked with a polite smile, seemingly oblivious to the tension that had been crackling in the confined space.

"Yes," he said and closed the door, locking himself and me in with her.

He shot out an arm, clasping his hand over her neck and pushing her against the wall. That escalated quickly.

I fixed her with a gaze, both intrigued by what he wanted to do and at the same time terrified for her. Though she looked scared, I knew from her eyes that she still felt pleased and turned on even.

She was frightened, yes, but she wanted whatever the Dark lord wanted to do to her.

He closed the distance between them, allowed their mouths to touch, and then he bit her lower lip. She moaned. I watched, intrigued.

Was this what he wanted from me?

Her arms hung limply along her body, and she stared straight into his eyes. He seized her by the hair and pulled, tilting her head back, why was that hot?

My eyes closed, and she moaned again, I re-opened my eyes, his eyes locked with mine as if he wanted me to watch every detail, he wanted me consume and digest what was happening here.

The girl was really pretty, with doll-like eyes, sharp cheekbones, and very healthy-looking long jet-black hair that cascaded beautifully. It was obvious that he liked his 'things' pretty.

“Kneel,” he growled, pushing her down.

She did as she was ordered without hesitation. He purred, praising her submissiveness, and trailed a thumb along her lips. I watched as they parted obediently.

It was not that I was a naive virgin, but it amazed me how she immediately knew what she was supposed to do even without him instructing her, as if she was programed to be his perfect submissive.

It became clear that this wasn't the first time they've done stuffs together.

He gently pushed her head against the wall and unzipped his pants. She swallowed loudly, and loudly, and my enormous eyes still fastened on his. It was more than obvious that she wanted it—who would not? Matteo was devilishly handsome and obviously wealthy.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he said gently, his thumb moving across her eyelids. I closed my eyes too. Matteo chuckled, forcefully making me open my eyes.

"That command was not for you, Laura. You get a front-row ticket to watch. I want your eyes open throughout."

Turning his attention to the girl, he began talking,

“You’ll only open them when I tell you to.” His cock sprang from his pants, rock-hard, thick and i obviously couldn't keep my eyes off.

It rested on the girl’s lips, and she obediently opened her mouth wide, fuck she was really good.

I could not help but look at his impressive length. I would not deny that the woman inside of me wanted him to impale me with his impressive cock, but I would rather die.

It was long with a nice thickness and veins running through the length. I could see the transparent liquid leaking out; it was so picture perfect that I did not know how to stop looking.

I didn't want to stop.

He pushed his cock all the way in, holding her head so she could not move.

I saw her choking, and he thrust even deeper. Her eyes snapped wide open in terror, as if she really thought she would suffocate, but she didn't protest.

He withdrew slowly. Then he stroked her cheek in a tender and delicate gesture. I observed her calming down; she then licked her lips clean of the thick spittle that came deep from her throat.

“I will fuck your mouth,” he said. She was trembling. “May I?”

It was unbelievable that this man was asking; just minutes ago he negotiated for my ownership, and now here he was asking a girl if he could fuck her mouth. He surprised me, a real enigma.

His face expressed nothing—no smile, no emotion. For a moment, the girl stared at him with those huge eyes, finally nodding her consent.

“Thank you,” He breathed, caressing her cheeks with both hands. He leaned her head further back against the wall and slid himself along her tongue all the way to her throat.

She clasped her lips around his cock. His hips began to thrust hard. Involuntarily and suddenly, I felt aroused; I could feel my nipples tightening and my pussycat drenching. But I hardened my face, not wanting Matteo to know the effect he had on me.

I could feel she was fighting for her breath; she had the choice between sucking him off and breathing, but she chose sucking him off.

At first she tried to push him away, but she simply hurt him by scratching his skin. It was all futile because suddenly, just like a candle in a pitch-dark room, I could see a sadistic gleam on the Dark lord's face, which meant that he liked it.

Men like Matteo liked it when women fought, when they were helpless against his strength.

“Swallow,” he growled, pulling her hair once more.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she complied. He pulled his cock out of her mouth, and she collapsed back on her heels, sliding down the wall.

“Now lick it.” The girl froze. “Lick it clean.”

He propped his arms against the closed window in front of me and glared at her menacingly.

She hoisted herself up again and grabbed his manhood in one slender hand, starting to lick off the remains of his seed as if it were honey, he smiled faintly, watching as she did her best.

A sadist indeed.