Depraved

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Depraved Page 15

by Pucci, Trilina


  “I can’t believe you did this.” I grin, running my hands over my hips.

  “Tonight, you get to hear other people’s tragedies.” He smirks. “And then we can play hooker.”

  I laugh and turn my back to him to grip the chair again for support to slip on my shoes. Hands envelop my waist. “Give,” his deep gravel comes from behind, and I jump, looking over my shoulder.

  “You shouldn’t sneak up on a girl.”

  He tugs my waist and turns me around, taking the shoe from my hand.

  “I can do whatever the fuck I’d like. Remember?”

  I grin as he kneels down in front of me, my hands slip onto his wide shoulders. Dante’s hands slip under my dress, and I pull it up for him. He taps my calf for me to lift my foot. Dante’s fingers trace my leg before he brings the shiny heel to my foot, sliding it on and gently wrapping the strap around my ankle.

  “I’m like Cinderella,” I tease softly.

  Dante looks up at me slyly, his hand brushing up my leg, disappearing under my dress as it falls back down. My head tips back, a small exhale escaping as his nimble fingers start their dirty work.

  “No, Billy. You’re much more interesting than that.”

  My mouth parts as he rubs my clit, my breathing increasing with the naughty rhythm, but his fingers stop, disappearing from where I want them as he runs his hand down my other leg and looks up at me, motioning for the other shoe.

  I narrow my eyes but reach over to the desk and grab it from the box to hand it to him.

  Dante pats my foot before rising back to his feet and brushing off his knee. “Come on, Billy. We don’t want to be late…I hear these people can be very particular.”

  I smile and nod my head, taking his hand as we walk out of my office, making our way out of Church, only stopping for Antonio to say something to Dante about an errand Nico is running tonight.

  Dante leads me out of Church to our waiting car, and I smile as he opens my door.

  “You are going all out tonight. You’re going to get laid—secret’s out, buddy.”

  He laughs deeply, throwing the bottom of my dress at me and shutting the door before getting in on the other side. The car starts the minute he does and pulls out onto the street.

  My heart is in my throat. I can’t remember the last time I felt this excited about anything. I feel free. I look over at him and rest my head on his shoulder as we drive, just basking in the moment.

  The whole drive feels special. I feel special. And it’s because of him.

  My mind is doing flips with the number of thoughts that are circulating. I’m not sure how much time has passed; between the number of questions I’ve hurled at Dante about what’s happening next, and the calls he keeps getting, it’s kept me preoccupied.

  We drive through downtown Chicago and change lanes, beginning to slow, and I lean closer to my window on the passenger side. The marquee lights from the Chicago Opera House shine through the window, covering my reflection in orange and red, as I try and memorize this very moment.

  “If this is all it takes to get that look on your face…I’ll rent the goddamn place out every damn day,” he croons from next to me.

  My head swings to him, confused. “Rent it out?”

  Dante winks and takes my hand in his, giving it a kiss. “A little for you, a little for me. You’ll see, Billy. Come on.”

  My door is opened, and the driver helps me out as Dante steps out behind me, placing his hand on the small of my back and leading me toward the doors.

  An older, distinguished-looking man is standing at the front with a gold key. He smiles at me. “You must be Miss London. The Opera House has never been more pleased to grant this request. You only get one chance to fulfill a lifelong wish, after all.”

  I beam back, my eyes jumping to Dante’s, who’s standing with a knowing grin on his face.

  The man puts the key in the door and unlocks it, and I stare at Dante confused, but the door is opened, and I’m ushered through, still unsure about what’s happening.

  We walk through the massive, beautifully decorated, albeit empty space, and Dante just keeps that damn smirk on. My head swings around taking in all the details of the room as we walk. He leads me inside the dark theater, where all the seats are completely barren, and I look at him again.

  “Dante, what’s going on?”

  He holds up a hand. “Patience.”

  Footsteps gather on the bright stage flanked by deep crimson curtains, pulling my attention. Person after person begins to file out, all dressed in jaw-dropping colorful costumes, with feathers, jewels, and makeup.

  It’s magnificent and absurd.

  “Dante,” I laugh, “what is happening?”

  He leans down and kisses my forehead. “I thought you’d like to meet the performers.” My eyes grow wide as he pulls away. “Tonight’s show is for you. And only you.”

  My hand jumps to my mouth. How?

  I’ve been shocked into silence as we walk down to meet all the lovely people who will give me something I’ve always wished for. Scratch that—this blows my wish out of the water.

  Dante leads me to a set of stairs that carry us up onto the stage as people begin to greet me by name, and my head spins. I politely thank them for making time for this extravagant gesture by a crazy man, pulling a laugh from Dante and the crew.

  An eccentric man dressed in what looks like a jester costume motions to the seats behind me, speaking in a very thick accent. “Where are you sitting, goddess?”

  I open my mouth to answer but look at Dante and shrug with a laugh. “I don’t know.”

  Dante smiles and turns me to face out from the stage. The lights are dimmed, and the house lights are turned up, illuminating the room, and I gasp. Rows and rows of seats lead up to boxes that jut out from decadent walls of fabric. It’s breathtaking.

  Leaning down to my ear, he whispers, “Choose.”

  “HOW WAS THE SHOW LAST night?” Antonio asks, seated at the booth in Mama’s Ristorante.

  Visions of Sarah mesmerized, leaning onto the ledge of the box seat she chose, jump into my mind, only to be quickly taken over by the sound she made when I pretended to tie my loafers and slipped under her dress, spread her legs, and ate her pussy while the music drowned out her own high notes.

  “Good.” I grin. “Tell me about last night.”

  “Like I said—” Antonio shrugs. “—there’s nothing to tell. Other than they’re long gone. Looks like they skipped out a few days ago, probably right after the brother called Sarah at her place. Our guy has eyes on them in Boston. Said it doesn’t look they’re trying to make a move. Everything’s quiet.”

  “Maybe they got spooked, recognized some of us?” Vin throws out.

  I don’t like it. They’ve been after her for too long to just walk away. If they were afraid of us, we would have heard rumblings, talk spreading. But nothing? I don’t like it.

  “Keep an ear to the ground. I wanna know if they start talking with the O’Bannion crew.”

  “Got it,” Antonio answers. “You gonna tell her the coast is clear?”

  “I’m not sure it is,” I say with a shake of my head.

  His eyes narrow as if he isn’t buying my bullshit, but I’m not having this conversation with him.

  I rap my knuckles on the table and nod. “I gotta run and pick something up for Sarah. I’ll handle taking her to Church tonight. I’m hoping to see that asshole who keeps hitting on her.”

  The guys laugh and look at each other.

  I chuckle and Vin looks up. “Are we gonna need to hide a body or bail you out tonight?”

  Smiling, I button my jacket and give a thoughtful look. “The future is unknown, boys.”

  “Shit.” Antonio laughs, smacking the tableclothed surface, and Vin gives me a two-finger salute as I walk away.

  I stop at the front to speak with the owners, Mario and Sophia, and listen to reasons why I need a wife, promising to start my wife search soon. Turning to make my way
outside to the car, the chill hits me like a brick the moment the restaurant door opens. The driver stands waiting, as I rush inside, closing myself in.

  Shit. Chicago winter is no joke.

  “Where to, Mr. Sovrano?” I hear from the front as I shrug off my jacket, already warm in the car.

  “The jewelers off of Sixth. I need to pick up a package.”

  The car pulls out slowly as my driver speaks over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on the road.

  “I’m happy to run in and get it for you, sir. It’s nasty today.”

  “No, no. This one’s special. I’ll get it myself.” I stare out of the window, trying to envision how tonight will go.

  I’ve never wanted to hear her say yes, so much in my life.

  I step inside the walk-in closet and lean against the frame, watching Sarah slink the white dress down over her body, her hips giving a shimmy as she does. The dress is completely backless, dipping down dangerously low. It hugs her curves all the way down to the ground.

  I like her in white. I grabbed this dress the same day I bought the red one. But not even my imagination did her justice.

  There’s a slit that leads up to the top of her thigh, and it makes me think how easy it’ll be to slip my hand inside the dress to her pussy. My fingers itch to try it out, but I have another mission, and it’s weighing on me like an unkeepable secret.

  I walk inside, setting the large black velvet jewelry box down on top of the cherrywood valet that takes up room in the middle of the closet.

  “Let me help.” I come up behind her and take the small straps that fasten around her neck.

  My hands run down her bare arms when I finish, enjoying the feel of her, and I press a kiss to her shoulder.

  “Thank you,” she says, turning and smiling. “Is this a thing now? You buying me a dress every day?”

  I grin, taking a step backward to grab the box. “No. The dress isn’t the fun part.”

  “What’s in the box?” She slyly tries to peek around me as I hold it behind my back.

  “Something non-negotiable,” I answer, furrowing my brow.

  She crosses her arms over her chest and looks at me with a serious face. “I can’t agree to that until I see what’s in the box. You’re a fucking tyrant, and I’m not an idiot.”

  I laugh and nod my head. “I agree. But hear me out?”

  “Okay,” she agrees, suspicion all over her face.

  “When we’re at home or in the world, it can be your choice.” I bring the box to the front. “But when we’re at Church, this stays on you. Without question and hopefully with pride.”

  I tap the box hesitantly before lifting the lid. Her eyes grow wide as her fingers dart out to touch the diamond-encrusted choker and matching wrist cuffs that shine in her eyes.

  “They’re gorgeous… Are they…” she whispers, stopping before she finishes, so I say it for her.

  “They’re real.” I wink. “I thought it was elegant and beautiful, but not in a flashy way. It’s unexpected. Like you.”

  She steps in close, poring over the pieces. Her hand runs over the sparkly extravagance but pulls away as her eyes shift back to mine, the realization setting in.

  Sarah’s hand travels to her throat as her eyes lock to mine. “It isn’t just jewelry, though. Is it?”

  “It can be, but not at Church. There, it would be your collar”—a spark in her eyes makes me hopeful as I continue—“and the wrist cuffs have been made with a reinforced metal, so I can hook them up to the chains downstairs.”

  Her tongue runs over her plump bottom lip as she drags it between her teeth. “You want to own me.”

  The way she says it, so matter-of-fact, without judgment or disregard—it makes my dick jump. Because hell yes I want to own her and fuck her…and love her.

  I’d lock her down in my fucking house for life if I thought I could get away with it.

  “Do you want me to own you?” I ask, tilting my head, watching the way her chest is rising up and down. “I know you like when we play, Billy. You like when I dominate. When I allow you the space to be vulnerable. I want that. Not all the time, not in our day-to-day life, but wearing this just means that others who play won’t cross the line… Think of yourself as a walking lifesaver. Because there’s nothing I hate more than someone trying to take what’s mine.”

  Those gorgeous blue eyes lift to mine, and I see my answer. A smile grows across my lips, wanting to hear her say it.

  “Answer me with your words, Sarah. Do you want to belong to me?”

  “Yes,” she breathes like it’s the first breath she’s ever taken.

  I turn and set the box down, taking out the bracelets first. When I turn back, she’s biting her bottom lip with her arms extended in front of her, wrists up.

  “Good girl,” I growl, wanting to fuck her on the spot.

  I take my time placing the diamonds around her wrists, bringing each to my lips and pressing a kiss on her skin as I fasten them. When I finish, she gives them a little shake and smiles.

  “They’re beautiful. Thank you.” She beams.

  She’s fucking perfection.

  I reach out and grab her waist, pulling her flush to my body, and lean down to brush our lips together.

  “Thank you,” I whisper. “Good luck getting away now.”

  “Good luck getting rid of me.” She smiles back.

  “Turn around.”

  She does as she’s told, and I pull the piece from its place on the velvet inside the box, lifting my arms around and placing the cold choker against her skin. She pulls in a breath, and I give a small laugh.

  Sarah brushes her hair over her shoulder, and I fasten the piece, locking it in place. She can remove it herself, but it’s designed to need assistance.

  I feather kisses over her neck, hearing her moan as my hands roam her body.

  “You look good as mine.”

  She turns around and levels a look at me. “Where’s your choker?”

  I laugh loudly, and she squeals as I pick her up by the waist, bringing her to eye level. “Billy, I think everyone knows who the fuck I belong to, and since women tend to be smarter than men…it won’t be an issue. Nobody’s trying to be on the other end of your temper.”

  She shrugs as I lower her down slowly, her hands wrapping around the back of my neck. I let her drift down my body, and she plants kisses on my face as I do. Setting her to her feet, I squeeze her ass and smirk. “Let’s get you to work and show you off.”

  The moment we walk into Church, eyes dart to her neck left and right. But Sarah doesn’t fidget or seem concerned. She’s undeniably comfortable with the meaning, the vow that’s been said between us.

  And I’m in awe of her. This girl was meant for this. Meant for me. I don’t know what that says about how I feel, but I’m past the point of falling. I’ve fallen.

  We walk into the main room from the entry, and I see Matteo sitting at the bar. Pulling her to a stop, I lean down and kiss her cheek. “Go work, I’ll be at the bar with Matteo. I have to speak with him.”

  She gives me a nod and starts toward her office, looking back over her shoulder.

  “Don’t miss me too much.” She winks.

  I smile and make my way over to the large mahogany bar. The bartender notices me and begins to make his way over.

  “Hey,” I greet, taking a stool next to Matteo.

  “Hey?” he questions. “That’s what you’re starting with?”

  The shit-eating grin across his face is almost too much to look at as he swigs his drink. He and I share this lifestyle in common. Not the one we’re born into, rather the one we’re sitting in. So I know he gets exactly what the shiny new additions on Sarah mean.

  “Whiskey,” I say to the bartender and face Matteo. “Hey is a typical greeting. I don’t know what the fuck you’re looking for…Merry Christmas?” I laugh, pulling my cigar case out from the inside of my suit jacket.

  “No way. Come on. That’s a lot of shine on your girl�
�s neck. And it looks suspiciously like something some people use to claim a person they want to keep. Tell me I’m fucking wrong,” he says, his face lighting up with a challenge. “You can’t because I’m not fucking wrong.”

  Matteo takes too many allowances with me, but he gets away with it because I can’t help but love the dipshit. And he’s not wrong.

  “I’m not telling you anything, prick. But yeah, she’s mine. And yeah, I’m fucking keeping her for as long as she’ll stay.” I pick up my drink from where it’s been placed in front of me.

  “Well, goddamn,” he replies, holding up his glass and clinking it against mine.

  I open my cigar case and pull one out, running it past my nose and inhaling the scent of tobacco. I place it between my lips. I fucking love the taste of these things.

  There’s a no-smoking rule here, but none of those apply to me. Matteo twists, angling his body toward mine.

  “Are those the Cubans that Antonio got? They’re too dry, they don’t light well. You have to get them really wet,” he complains, continuing his motion and turning his back to the bar.

  His eyes have landed on the blonde who’s owned his attention for the last few months. She’s gonna eat him for breakfast.

  “You’re out of your league with that one,” I say with the cigar in my mouth.

  He nods, focused on her. “I like a challenge.”

  I laugh as I pull the cigar from my lips and roll it between my fingers, but my amusement fades as the dirty thoughts grab me with both hands and shake.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  He answers with a nod as I walk back past the bar and toward Sarah’s office, giving the door a rap before I push it open.

  She smiles from behind the desk as I walk in, looking up from a stack of paperwork in front of her.

  “Can’t get enough of me, huh?”

  I close the door behind me, turning to lock it. “Something like that.”

  Pivoting back, my lips tug upward at the ends as she leans back in her chair, waiting for my move. Get ready, Billy.

  “Come here,” I demand in a low gravelly voice, walking to her desk and sitting back against it to sit.

 

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