by Jade West
He replaced the belt with his palm, slapping me fast. The slaps were loud in the room, masking my squeals.
I felt like his slave now.
I was his slave now.
My breaths were gasping when he twisted me over and forced me onto my knees. His dick was waiting, my mouth was open.
I sucked Lucian Morelli’s cock like a trained little slut, staring up at him with wide eyes as he forced his way deep. He choked me, and I took it like a good girl. He made me retch over and over, but it didn’t stop me sucking him.
“Someone’s taught you well,” he grunted.
He was right on that. I’d been taught well. Only it wasn’t someone who’d taught me, it was many. I’d had many cocks forced down my throat in my life.
I felt the throbs in his dick and knew what was coming. I was hungry for it.
He pulled out of my mouth and worked his length above me, and I did what any good little slut would do. I opened my mouth nice and wide.
The first spurt of come landed across my face. The rest was a perfect stream on my tongue. I didn’t swallow, just stared up at him as he caught his breath.
That’s when he saw them . . . my fingers between my legs.
“You’re a dirty little bitch, Elaine.”
I didn’t stop rubbing my clit. My mouth was still open with his come glistening on my tongue, and I rubbed my clit so fast I shuddered.
He didn’t tell me to stop.
I wouldn’t have stopped if he did.
My ass was on fire, my nipples were straining, and my clit lit up like a flare, sparking.
I came on my knees with my master’s come across my tongue, and he watched me. He watched me with his dark, evil eyes.
His smirk was divine in its filth.
“If you really do want to breathe your final breath, you’ll have to stop being such a dirty little bitch,” he said. “I’ll be watching that for a long fucking time before I snuff you out.”
I was smiling up at him as I swallowed.
8
Lucian
I didn’t sleep, just sat and watched the girl curled up naked on the couch. She was dreaming, exhausted. She was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen.
Just a shame she was a fucking Constantine. I’d have kept her as a permanent plaything if I didn’t despise her enough to torture her to death.
I knew shit would be kicking off back in the city as the war over Elaine began. Constantines against the Power Brothers would be quite a spectacle. I’d be an avid spectator.
Just so long as they didn’t find out the kidnapper was me.
The sun was rising through the window when my cell started its usual round of bleeps and pings for the day. The Morelli Empire was already awake, deals and trades galore springing up for their usual rounds. For once in my life I didn’t want to be amongst it. I wanted to be here instead, petting the slut.
It was light outside when I finally moved from my seat. The coffee machine was live and active when the sweet little toy dolly presented herself in the kitchen doorway. She was scared and tired, a beautiful combination.
The dolly didn’t ask for a coffee. No doubt she knew better than that.
I made myself one as she watched me, the sadist part of me set to enjoy her thirst as she watched me drinking mine. I felt insane as I realized the sadist part of me wasn’t winning the battle. I already had a mug out for my toy when I caught a grip of my own actions, all set to make her one. Fuck it. I made her one anyway. I didn’t give her options, just handed one over, black, to match mine.
“Thanks,” she said, and flashed me the meekest little smile.
Fuck the way she was such a natural temptress.
“Turn around,” I said. She looked at me blankly before she realized what I wanted to see.
She turned her back to me, her ass so beautifully marked, faint lines of bruising. The sight made my dick twitch.
I stepped up to her just as she was raising her coffee mug to her lips. My hot breath on her neck made her shudder.
“I’m going back to the city,” I told her, like she deserved an explanation. “Don’t even think about trying to escape this place. You’ll get nowhere. I’m locking you up tight, and even if you did get out, I’m barely a few minutes from wiping out that sad little moron you’re friends with. You’d never save him in time.”
She turned to me and pulled a scowl. “Yeah, I know. I do have a brain you know. You don’t need to keep pointing out the obvious every thirty seconds.”
My hand was on her tit in a flash, squeezing hard.
“Are you going to be a sensible little bitch and behave yourself in my absence?”
She winced as I twisted her flesh. “That depends on what behave myself means.”
I didn’t actually know what behave meant in that instance. Part of me wanted her tied up naked to the bedstead upstairs, another part wanted to think of the dirty little bitch drifting around the place, curious and needy.
“I am going to destroy you, you know,” I told her, letting go of her flesh and hating how I was telling myself just as much as her. “This is all just a cheap thrill of a game until I get bored and take your life.”
She stared at me. “Like I said, I do have a brain. I’m a Constantine after all. It’s not like we could ever be fucking friends.”
That made me smirk, and it made her smirk back.
She was right. She was a Constantine. The Constantines and the Morellis could never be friends, we hated the fucking sight of each other. Not that my friends list was exactly long to start with. Hunter Sparro was the only one in this lifetime who’d really made it.
I straightened myself up in the hallway mirror before taking my keys from the table. Elaine was a sassy little bitch as she stood in front of me, hand on hip as she flashed me a bitch of a grin despite the fresh marks on her tit.
“Enjoy your day at the office, honey.”
“Watch your fucking mouth,” I told her, then stepped outside.
I’d make her pay for that later.
It was a ridiculous feeling, driving into the city for my day. I was alongside so many regular commuters going about their lives. I took no calls on my cell during my drive, soaking myself in the surroundings. It was annoyingly entertaining to be a part of the normal world.
My hackles rose to a whole new level when the elevator arrived at my suite at Morelli Holdings. My loser cousins, Seamus and Duncan, were already in my space. I fucking hated the pieces of shit. They were jackals nipping at my heels, trying to steal my reins, and had been since we were barely boys. I’d happily eradicate them if we weren’t blood relations.
“Late to the office,” Seamus said, then tutted.
Duncan looked at his watch. “Not like you to be a lazy asshole, Lucian. Better up your game before we report you to your daddy.”
Nothing had ever aggravated me more than imbeciles laughing at me. Nobody ever laughed at Lucian Morelli without losing their fucking tongue for it. Nobody but my family fucking tree.
“Go fuck yourselves,” I said to them and brushed right past. “Go home and play video games or whatever else useless cunts like you choose to spend their time doing these days.”
I was almost through to my office when Seamus called out to me.
“Say, Luke, have you heard about the Constantine bitch? We heard you’ve had a bit of a crush on her. Shame the Power Brothers have taken your sweetie pie away.”
There they were again, laughing their pathetic little heads off.
“Yes,” I said. “I’ve heard about the Constantine bitch. I hope she’s the first of many.”
“That’s not what the rumors have been saying,” Duncan jeered. “Rumors are that you’re in love with her.”
The thought spiked my blood pressure. I’d never be in love with any bitch, let alone a fucking Constantine. Love was for weaklings and fools.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” I said. “That kind of insult will get you fucked up.”
It was an in
sult.
Even the thought of having people jeering over those rumors was enough to make me despise the stupid little slut even more.
As if I could ever fall in love with Elaine Constantine. I’d rather fucking die.
9
Elaine
I’ve always been a sneak as well as a liar. Curious, my mother used to say, before she hated me. I would wander around the family home like a little wisp, exploring places when other people weren’t looking.
I found my sister Vivian’s diary under her bed when she was fifteen. I read about her crush on Roberto Henley from drama group and how he’d grope her after class. I read how she’d talk about naughty things with Rachel Weston at their sleepovers and how they’d plan who they would marry one day. I crept into my mom’s room once and found she had . . . things in her bedside table drawer. I went through Tinsley’s makeup collection and found she’d borrowed some of Mom’s.
Now it was my time to get curious about Lucian Morelli.
I scoped the place out a little when I was sure he’d be well on the road back into NYC. I checked the external doors first. Both locked. Then the windows. Every window had a lock on it. Of course, I could have found something to smash my way through. But I didn’t. I stared out of the window at the yard sloping away from the house, checking out the hills in the distance. It was a nice spot, but not nice enough for a monster like Morelli. I still didn’t get what the hell he’d give this place a minute for.
It was cheap but quaint. The furniture was basic but cosy. The kitchen was barely stocked but had plenty of essentials.
I felt like an invader as I made my way upstairs. I kept to the edge of the staircase on tiptoes, like some kind of criminal. It didn’t make a tiny bit of sense since the owner knew full well I’d be snooping my way around.
The landing made a creak that sounded loud. My prison room was small and dark, even with the daylight shining in. The bathroom was nice, but again it was cheap. There were barely any toiletries in the shower unit – just an expensive body wash and tea tree shampoo. I was almost surprised when I opened the mirrored cupboard above the basin. One solitary toothbrush and toothpaste in the holder. It was more casual than I was expecting, propped there neatly.
It was weird to think of it being in Lucian’s mouth. It was weird to think of Lucian using it in his mouth. I couldn’t imagine it – the Morelli Monster doing something so basic.
The naughty little girl in me wanted to overstep my boundaries in this space when he wasn’t looking, so I did it. I took Lucian Morelli’s toothbrush and ran my tongue over the bristles. It gave me strange shivers. Naughty. It felt a lot less naughty when I shrugged off the bad girl and straight up used his toothbrush for what it was intended for, then stepped into the shower. The heat was a beautiful relief.
There was a towel over the rack. I wrapped myself up in it snug then headed back out onto the landing. I knew what was waiting for me – the ultimate of snoops for the sneak.
Lucian Morelli’s door was the one at the far end. Even his door felt more sinister somehow. More imposing.
It wasn’t locked.
More fool him, but it wasn’t locked.
His bed was huge in the space. His wardrobe was plain wood but stocked at odds with the rest of the place. It was brimming with clothes, suits that looked insane against such a mediocre backdrop. They smelt of him. Grand. Imposing.
He had an old leather watch in his bedside drawer with some initials on the strap. RHM. He had a notebook and a pen in there which I thumbed through eagerly. It was a dream journal. Lucian Morelli recorded his dreams. They were split into two types – ones where he was killing other people and ones where they were killing him. Always violent. The torture in them would have turned my stomach if I wasn’t already used to hearing of brutality in the shadowy dregs of our lifestyle.
His handwriting was cursive but masculine, almost calligraphic. It suited him. His pen was fountain and jet black. I scrawled a sample of the ink across my hand. I used to love writing when I was a little girl.
I felt bizarrely at home in Lucian’s bedroom. I guess because it felt like a home, even in its sparse decor. I wondered just how much time he really spent here and whether anyone knew he ever came. I doubted that somehow.
I didn’t opt to put my underwear or my dress back on from the night before. Instead I pulled one of Lucian’s designer shirts from the hanger. The black richness made me look all the more pale in the mirror when I slipped it on. I liked wearing his shirt; it felt private. I felt close to him in the most mundane of ways. That felt bizarrely close – closer than I’d ever have imagined. In some ways even closer than having his dick in my ass or his breath in my face.
I wondered when I’d see him again. The thought was both terrifying and exciting, a combination I was fast becoming accustomed to. People adapt quickly, don’t they?
I helped myself to some canned soup. Nothing exciting but amazingly welcome. I made myself a coffee and settled down to some TV on the crude little TV in the corner of the living room to pass the time. I couldn’t focus on it. I was on hyper alert, heart racing at the thought of a car pulling up in the driveway.
When a car did pull up in the driveway, I leapt up from my seat, a wreck as the nerves ate me up alive.
The monster was silent as he stepped inside and cast his eyes on me. His eyes were as dark as I’d ever seen them. His jaw was as firm as I’d ever known. It was barely dark outside, so he must have come straight here, perhaps leaving before the customary 5 o’clock. Surprising. I’m sure my expression must have told him so.
“Enjoying my shirt, are you? Taking liberties already. You should watch your cheek.”
I ran my hands down the fabric as he watched me.
“You have tempting shirts. Better than a castoff dress, thanks very much. Some liberties are there to be taken.” I paused, holding my hands on my hips. “Expect me to wander around naked all day, do you?”
His answer was simple and straight.
“Yes.”
I couldn’t help but smirk. “Sure thing, right. Think this is some kind of slutty romance novel or something?”
His smirk was right back. “Hardly. There’s no happy ever after here, little girl. I’m hardly a white knight on some glorious steed. I’m the bad guy; I promise you.”
“A bad guy who has a decent body wash in his shower at least. Thank you.”
I knew he was on the edge of laughing. I could see it. He didn’t. He cast his jacket on the sofa and headed to the kitchen. I followed him in time to see him flick on the coffee machine. I hoped I’d get one. Manners, at least before he fucked me up for his pleasure.
I felt strangely human in his presence, which was ridiculous given that he was the greatest enemy I’d ever known, right from the day I was born. There’s no way you can feel more yourself in your future killer’s company than your own mother’s, right?
“Show me your ass,” he told me. “I want to see the marks.”
I spun for him and lifted the shirt, and then my cheeky side found its strength some more. I jigged my butt for him, shooting him a glance over my shoulder.
He was on me in seconds, arm around my throat as he slapped me hard on the ass.
“There’s a very fine line between a girl who finds her voice to amuse me and one who is asking for a fucking beating, Elaine.”
I knew that. I managed to nod, and he dropped me.
My cheeky side shriveled to nothing as he returned to the coffee machine. This man was going to be the end of me, I needed to remember that. His amusement was nothing to me. He was nothing to me. Lucian Morelli was fuck all to my Constantine soul, he never would be. Not in the rest of my sorry lifetime.
He didn’t make me a coffee, manners all gone.
“Get on your fucking knees,” he said.
10
Lucian
I should’ve destroyed the bitch in front of me there and then and enjoyed it. I should’ve relished wiping her off this planet an
d ticking a Constantine off my list. The first of many.
Should’ve was becoming a sorry fucking mantra.
Yet again the pretty little creature on the floor transfixed me. Her blue eyes were pools, deep with their secrets. The different shades of her butterfly beauty were siren calls, even in the shitty surroundings of the crappy little kitchen in the crappy little hovel that was an embarrassment to own.
She seemed at home here, even more than she’d seemed at home in the opulence of central city. It shouldn’t have surprised me, especially having seen the bullshit place downtown that belonged to that loser of a friend of hers. Or after seeing the holes of clubs she was enjoying with her gay bestie.
Thank you, Tristan, for having such random power over the girl on her knees.
She was even more beautiful from that angle, staring up at me. I stepped up close enough to enjoy it.
“Take my shirt off. Now.”
Her fingers fumbled, impudence forgotten. Her skin was visibly nervous, goose pimpled. Her nipples were bullets.
I wanted to see her slip her hand between her thighs again without permission, but she didn’t. She was silent and still.
“You’re lucky you’re so pretty,” I told her. “You’d be long dead if you weren’t.”
She stayed silent. It frustrated me how much I wanted her cheek. Because I did. Part of me wanted her cheek. Part of me even liked it. Disgusting.
I punished her for it, dragging her up to her feet and slamming her down onto the counter, her tits pressed tight to the wood. I reached into the drawer and pulled out the metal spatula. I ran it up her thighs, teasing her before striking.
She squealed.
I loved her pain far more than her cheek.
I made her squeal again and again and again. I yanked her head back by her silky blonde curls, keen to see tears streaming down her pretty cheeks, but there were none. She wasn’t crying.