Depraved

by Pucci, Trilina

  The thought of her walking out, even in a blanket, pisses me off. There’s no fucking way anyone sees how fucking sexy she looks right now. No, that’s for me alone.

  Turning, I look at her, no humor on my face. “You’ll sit your ass down and wait. I want you like this when I get back. Today, we negotiate, Billy.”

  I walk through the door as Sarah glares at me from where she’s standing next to the bed and let the door close behind me with a loud bang.

  It’s been twenty minutes, and we’ve managed to go through most of what we needed to talk about. But I’m antsy. Not because of this meeting but for the one waiting for me behind the door I can’t stop staring at.

  Turning my back to my bedroom door, I try and listen to what Antonio is saying, but all I hear in my mind are the breathy little moans that accompanied our kiss this morning.

  Fuck that girl is hot.

  I try to refocus, silently cursing my dick, but when I look up all I see are frowns and “oh shit” looks before I hear, “Good morning, fellas.”

  My head swings around, and silence fills every soul in the room, except for mine. All I feel is rage crashing inside my veins, making a ringing sound in my ear.

  I’ll fucking kill her.

  Sarah’s standing in the entry, wearing a smile and next to nothing—just a lace bra and a hot-pink G-string. Every part of her showing to the four assholes sitting on stools at my kitchen island.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I bark, smacking the counter and watching her saunter to the fridge as everyone looks in different directions.

  They better fucking look away.

  “I’m getting some juice. What are you doing?” she answers, her head swinging to me lazily as she reaches inside for a carton of orange juice.

  Matteo lets out a very nervous laugh, and my hand reaches to the small of my back instinctively for my gun, but it’s not there.

  Fuck. I’m ready to shoot people. This girl has me all fucked up.

  Antonio smacks Matteo’s shoulder, giving him a head shake, having seen my reaction, as Sarah bends to look inside the refrigerator. Her bare ass comes into view, sending me straight over the edge.

  “Unless you want me to keep you there and make that ass bright red, I’d stand the fuck up.”

  She looks over her shoulder and winks. Motherfucker. I grab her shoulder and stand her up, turning her ass around and out of sight.

  Sarah looks up at me and grins. “What’s wrong, Dante? You seem angry. Should I have put a blanket around me?”

  Before I know what I’m doing, my hand slams the fridge door shut as I loom over her, but Sarah just blows a kiss, uncapping the lid and drinking right from the carton.

  “Oh, you’re having fun, huh? All right. All right, I see what you’re doing,” I growl, trying to restrain my temper.

  Dropping the container down, she looks at it musing. “You know, orange juice is starting to grow on me.” Her eyes drift to her chest as she grins. “Whoops, I spilled some.”

  Her finger darts across her chest, wiping up a bead of orange juice and bringing it to her mouth. My fist instantly connects rapidly with the steel refrigerator, one time, two times, three times, but she doesn’t even flinch.

  That goddamn smile grows though.

  And I snap.

  I grab her waist and start pushing her backward toward my bedroom. “Put your fucking clothes on…or so help me god, Sarah, I’ll…”

  “What?” she cuts in, trying to throw my hands off her, but not succeeding as I keep pushing her backward. “You’ll do what?” she challenges as I turn her back to me and shove her through the door.

  “You’re about to find out,” I growl.

  The sound of chairs scraping the floor echo through the room as the guys all begin to file out, leaving us to battle this shit alone.

  “Sit. I’ll be out in ten minutes,” I bark, and the noises immediately stop.

  Sarah starts off toward the bathroom with a string of curses, but my hand shoots out and grips her shoulder, keeping her in place.

  “Let go,” she snaps, full of anger.

  I come right beside her and bend to her ear, my intention laced in my words.

  “Are you trying to get these men killed? Is that what you want? Because all of this,” I grit out, covering her breast with my hand roughly and hearing her gasp, “is for me.”

  She’s already breathing heavy, and everywhere I touch feels like an electric current buzzing between us.

  “You don’t get to order me around, Dante.”

  Her voice is filled with defiance, but she doesn’t make a move to push me away. She fucking wants this, even more so now. Everything we’ve been feeling. All the push and pull. It’s become a ticking time bomb, and we’re about to blow.

  My hand massages her, and her eyes flutter closed. “Anger is the most powerful aphrodisiac there is, and right now, Billy, I’m gonna take out all my fury on your body.”

  I move my hand down her chest, letting her shoulder sink into me, our breathing in sync as I move farther. Letting my fingers skirt over her stomach, I glide down toward her thigh, and trace the top of her panties. My finger dips just inside and runs back and forth over her skin.

  “You don’t ever teach me a lesson using what’s mine.”

  I take her earlobe between my teeth and pull, tilting her head and sucking.

  Her voice is so breathy that she sounds like she’s coming. “I’m not yours.”

  A fighter until the end. Breaking her is going to be the highlight of my day.

  “Try saying it more convincingly next time, Billy.”

  My hand dives down, pressing against her clit, and her knees almost buckle. I wrap my hand around her waist and start to rub her without mercy. No warm-up needed. She’s all desire and pent-up animalistic need. Slow isn’t what she requires. Sarah needs to come hard and fast.

  Her hand reaches up, grasping my shoulder, as her body bends forward from the overwhelming sensation.

  “Fuck. Oh my god,” she whimpers, pushing her hips into my fingers and digging her nails into my shoulder.

  My hand pulls to a stop as her ragged breath drags from her lips and her eyes find mine.

  “What are you doing? Why are you stopping?” she questions, shaking her head, confused. She grabs at my wrist, but I don’t move.

  My fingers begin a slow skim over her tender clit, and she shivers, as a smile plays on my lips. I lean down close to her, whispering my seductive threat.

  “Not a fucking word. If you make a sound, I stop.” My fingers begin to move slowly again, and her body jumps. “They don’t get to hear you. I told you all of this is mine, including your pleasure…all the little sounds and fucking moans. If you share it, I’ll starve your fucking pussy to death.” I push past her clit and thrust two fingers inside her, and she slaps a hand over her mouth. “Good girl. You want me to forgive that little stunt? Then prove your fucking worth, Billy.”

  This time I don’t stop. She’s held in place with my arm around her as I fuck her harder and harder, alternating between her clit and inside her pussy. Her hand presses over her mouth tighter and tighter as her body begins to jerk.

  She’s completely at my mercy. Unless she says it.

  “You wish this was my cock, don’t you? Fucking you raw. Making you breathless, while everyone waits outside, only a few feet away.”

  Sarah’s nails dig so hard into my shoulder that I’m certain she’s marked me.

  “You like that, don’t you? The idea of being caught, seen…or maybe it’s the idea of being mine. To do with as I please.” My fingers pump faster and faster. “Fucking you while everyone watches you get owned.”

  Sarah muffles her moans over my words as I finger fuck her. Our eyes stay locked, trained on each other, intimately connected, and I know she’s almost there. I push another finger inside her to bring her over the edge. “Open your fucking legs and give me my pussy,” I demand, needing more room to fuck her.

 
; As she does, I feel her stomach contract, and her eyes close. Her warm walls constrict my fingers, holding me inside of her as she rides out her orgasm. She lays her head against my chest as she convulses violently.

  Slowly her body calms, and I slip my fingers out, her body giving a tiny undulation as I do. Sarah’s body slumps against me, but I let her go, forcing her to hold herself up.

  “Now, sit your ass down on the bed and wait for me, because when I come back in here, I’m going to eat your pussy and then fuck you until you can’t breathe. Am I understood?”

  Her eyes meet mine, and I bend down, giving her lips a soft kiss, then whisper, “Because to the victor goes the spoils.”

  I told her we were happening. She should learn to listen.

  A faint “Shit” is all I hear as I turn my back and walk outside to finish my meeting.

  HOLY HELL, WHAT JUST HAPPENED? One minute I was Petty Betty, half-naked and on my high horse, and the next I was turned to Jell-O and left here to wait for my…punishment? Reward? I can’t decide which.

  He said it as if it would be a punishment. But after what Dante just did to me, I’m okay with being fucked until I can’t breathe.

  Dammit. This is why I didn’t want to do this with him. Then again, maybe Matteo was right.

  I snicker to myself at the thought, falling back onto the bed. I was supposed to win this battle. He wasn’t getting the best of me.

  Famous last words.

  Jesus, he was so intense and angry. So possessive with all the “this is mine” growling. There isn’t any reality in which I wasn’t surrendering. He’s a goddamn beast with all his dirty talk and skillful fingers, and this is ultimately what I wanted. Deep down.

  I wanted to fuck him the minute I saw him again. That’s probably why I wouldn’t stop pushing. He needed to break. Take what he wanted. Because I was never going to offer myself up.

  Still, that makes me “the loser” in our little game. I caved first. Although, technically, I didn’t actually say yes, just insinuated it with all my heavy breathing and compliance.

  “Shit.” I sigh to myself, letting the loss sink in.

  The only thing worse than losing is losing to a smug bastard who knew he was going to win.

  My hands run down my body, cupping my center as I sit up. This is definitely going to be sore later. Taking a deep breath, I push off the bed and stand up to walk to his bathroom.

  I make my way toward the massive glass-encased shower and turn on the water, letting my fingers weave through the water to test the temperature, and watch the steam rise and billow as it begins to cloud the glass.

  Shutting the shower door, I reach behind me and remove my bra, then my panties, letting myself back inside to the rain of warmth from the water.

  I stand, quiet and still, letting my shitty decisions and insane life wash off me. I think the best in the shower, and right now, after what just went down, I need to think.

  My thoughts are all over the place as I wash my hair with the shampoo he has in his shower. It smells fresh, like something that would be named cool breeze. Leaning my head back, I snigger at the idea of Dante owning something called cool breeze, rinse the soap out of my hair, and open my eyes, finishing with the conditioner.

  Grabbing the soap, I lather the sponge in my other hand and begin to make tiny swirls over my body as more questions pop into my mind.

  I wonder if he knows I was awake the whole time he was kissing me?

  He has to. It was just too tempting. Like a forbidden bite of the apple. Damn, but my body feels like heaven and not hell. But just because it happened once doesn’t mean it will happen again.

  I run my hands down my legs, realizing I need to shave…for all the sex I won’t be having from this point on. Lies. All lies.

  Looking around, I come up empty. No razor. That’s a problem.

  Opening the shower door, I peek my head out and scan the counter, spotting a shiny silver handle. I tiptoe out, careful not to fall on the slick marble flooring caused by the excess water, and nab it to use.

  Halfway back, a throat clears, calling my attention to the doorway, and my head snaps to Dante leaned against the doorjamb with a grin on his face and his arms behind his back.

  “Whatcha doing, Billy?”

  I hold up the razor, naked and wet, goose bumps covering my body, and shake it at him. “I need to shave my legs.”

  “I use that on my face,” he states, amused.

  “Then it should be up for the challenge of my legs.” I counter as I walk back inside the shower.

  The door closes, and I get back to business, ignoring him as if I don’t care as he walks inside the bathroom. Dante’s back is to me as he stands at the bathroom counter, only a smoky shadow for me to stare at. He stands for only a moment, before turning to leave without a word.

  The moment he shuts the bathroom door, I rub a clear spot in the glass to see what he was doing, curiosity getting the better of me.

  No way.

  A grin graces my face as I look at a small stack of clothes, neatly folded and placed on the counter.

  He brought me clothes. So, what? It’s not a big deal, but if that’s true, why am I smiling like a loon?

  Oh man, I’m in so much trouble.

  Hating him is going to be harder than I thought.

  Showered and changed into new, clean sweats—fucking guys, this is what happens when they pick out clothes—I pad out of the bedroom barefoot and head back into the great room, but the house is empty, no guys, no noise.

  There’s no way he trusts me alone. Although, I already know the elevator only works with a key card. Tried and failed that on the first night.

  I look around and notice my purse sitting on the coffee table in the living room, so I head over and open it, grabbing my cell out, but it’s dead. Matteo was supposed to give this to me yesterday, but we got sidetracked by my impromptu dinner date.

  I rustle around, searching to see if my keys are inside, but come up empty. Of course he took them. Noise comes from upstairs, and I hear Dante’s voice reverberate against the space. “Make sure. We need to be positive before we make a move.”

  Against who?

  My head lifts toward the top of the stairs as I watch him walk down. He always walks ahead, like he’s leading the charge. I’m pretty sure Dante sees himself as the person who protects the men behind him and not the other way around. That’s probably why they’re so loyal to him.

  It’s obvious by their demeanor. Anytime I’ve ever seen them all together, it’s clear that Dante is where he is because of respect not because of fear. His brothers treat him the same way. Especially Luca.

  It’s what makes him so powerful. They would all die to protect him, and he would never even need to ask.

  “You don’t listen very well,” he calls out, taking the last step, dragging me from my thoughts.

  Vincenzo laughs but gives me an apologetic nod when I narrow my eyes at him. I’m still mad at him.

  I shrug and lean back onto the couch. “We already know this about me.”

  “Hungry?” He says teasingly, letting his gaze drift over my body as he stands in the entry, never taking his eyes off me as the guys walk out.

  “No, but I need to make a run to my apartment,” I say, brushing my damp hair over my shoulder, “I need something other than sweats to wear.”

  “I’ll arrange it,” he answers, still admiring me.

  Picking up my phone from next to me, I stand and head toward the stairs. “Bye, guys,” I call out, seeing them enter the elevator, with a string of goodbyes yelled back.

  “I like you in sweats,” Dante remarks nonchalantly as I walk past him and the house gets quieter.

  I stop at the staircase and look over my shoulder. “I like me out of them. We all need to make sacrifices, Dante.”

  I crane my neck to make sure we’re alone, and he nods, so I push the bulky pants down and kick them off, leaving me in my boy shorts. He bites his bottom lip as I hang them ove
r the railing and grin.

  If I’m trying to get him to attack me, it’s working because Dante looks as if he’s planning to pounce, so I make my move and jog up the stairs quickly, holding back a laugh.

  “Where are you going?” He grins as he watches me go up the stairs.

  “To put my phone on the charger in your office,” I answer honestly, stopping at the top and glancing down at him.

  He crosses his arms over his chest and stares at me. “How do you know there’s one in my office, Billy?”

  I can’t help but just smile and shrug before taking a step backward and turning around to walk down the hall to hook up my phone, hearing him yell, “Sneak.”

  The familiar scent of him sucks me in the minute I walk inside his office. I make my way to his desk and see the plug I need nestled on his desk, neatly wrapped and tucked away. Hooking up my phone, I sit in the large tall-backed leather black chair and throw my smooth legs up on his desk, letting out a breath as I wait.

  A piece of paper that has some meaningless scribble on it, clearly written in Italian, catches my eye, and I can’t stop my fingers as they dart out to trace the lines of his slashes and hard indentations.

  He writes the way he fucks. Hard and purposeful.

  Shit. I like him.

  Too damn much.

  I close my eyes with a small laugh because stopping this crazy train wreck seems impossible. The saying goes, “where there’s a will there’s a way,” but I don’t have the fucking will. I’ve never been so attracted to a person before in my life. It’s as if Dante knows all the right buttons to push.

  And god help me if I don’t want him to push all my damn buttons…maybe at the same time, while he uses his tongue. Fuck my life.

  A tiny voice in my head plays devil’s advocate. It’s not as if we’re going to fall in love in the next two weeks. What’s the harm? Still tracing the swirls and squiggles, I smile to myself because I don’t have a devil and an angel on my shoulders—I have two devils.

  “You look good in my chair.”

  I grin at his deep timbre and let my head fall to see him enter the office. “I feel like a boss.”