“Alessandro, are you all right?”
He didn’t answer, the man obviously still asleep. I stared at his beautiful face, his features almost regal. I smiled, thinking he was my prince in shining armor, the man always saving me. I just wished I could return the favor. I looked down at the knife on my lap, knowing I would kill my nephew and uncle if they touched Alessandro sexually. I didn’t care for those two perverts. Despite what I’d said to Alessandro, I hardly knew Matteo, while I’d always found my uncle Michael revolting. Plus, no one was going to hurt Alessandro like I had been, the attack still leaving me waking up in a panic, those men’s hands forever imprinted upon my body.
Alessandro shifted once more. I covered his cock yet again, the ring taunting me. Needing a distraction, I pushed out of my chair and walked to the door. I stuck a different chair under the door handle, needing something to warn me if anyone entered, especially after I’d fallen asleep earlier.
I rounded the bed and resumed my position by his side. Like a magnet, my eyes were drawn back to his body, his nipple rings shining under the light. I didn’t want to turn off the light, since it would be harder to stay awake, but looking at his body like this without being able to touch it was pure torture.
I averted my gaze, wishing I had a book, or anything to distract me from him. He breathed out, making the most adorable sleeping noises. It drew my eyes back, making me think of his porn videos. He’d been magnificent. I knew the women in them were actresses being paid to do a job, but they looked like they would’ve paid Alessandro for the privilege of having sex with him. He’d made them moan so loud, and shout his name as well as God’s. They’d withered and keened under his touch, looking like they were in ecstasy. And the way he’d kissed and touched them ... no man had ever done anything like that for me.
And again, that body of his.
Unlike my uncle Michael, who was too bulky, Alessandro was perfect. Dio! All I could think about was his body. It was becoming repetitive. But every time I looked at him, I noticed something new, like how wide his shoulders were or how he had a V-shaped torso, which tapered down to a delicious waist. Then there was his powerful chest and those big biceps covered in colorful tattoos, depicting terrifying images of Hell, all beautifully rendered.
He turned his head my way, causing me to close my eyes. Even though he was fast asleep, I still felt guilty for staring at him, and anyway, I needed some sleep too. Maybe I could catch a wink or two. The chair jamming the door would warn me if anyone tried to enter, plus I had my knife—ready to protect Alessandro if my horrible relatives went near him.
I leaned back in the chair, falling asleep within minutes, Alessandro soon filling my dreams.
3
THE PADRE
I brushed the sleeping boy’s hair back, wondering whether Thierry was pretending to like me or was being genuine. He willingly had sex with me, and never complained, even when I thrust myself upon him. He even appeared to enjoy it, my sweet Thierry always coming. I frowned, wondering whether I should just keep Thierry and forget about Gabriel.
Gabriel’s beautiful face came to mind, one so similar to Brando Santini’s. My frown deepened, the thought of the Santini man filling me with a mixture of anger and remorse. It still pained me over what Alessandro’s brother had done to himself. Brando had scarred his back with a whip at the age of seventeen so I wouldn’t touch him. I wished I could forget the first time I saw those scars. Brando had walked into my church with a pained expression. He didn’t say a word, just removed his shirt and turned to show me what he’d done. I breathed out, wishing I could purge the memory from my mind. Blood had still colored the boy’s back, the whip marks fresh and uncovered, a true horror to behold. Then he’d spoken, telling me he would continue to whip himself, so that every time I raped him I would see nothing but ugliness. I’d gone wild, beating him to within an inch of his life, wanting to destroy the devil for tainting his beauty. But, by the grace of God, the church bells had rung, pulling me out of my enraged actions. And what I saw had horrified me even more. Brando had been lying still at my feet, looking dead, his blood staining the aisle’s floor. Luckily, no one had seen what I’d done, so I picked him up and took him to the hospital, lying about finding him in his beaten state. I left the hospital fully expecting to be found out, but to my surprise Brando kept it a secret. A few days later he phoned, telling me he would continue to keep it a secret as long as I left the church his famiglia went to. I could’ve threatened him back, using his famiglia against him, but instead I decided to respect his wishes.
I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing the Devil hadn’t put this sickness inside of me. Brando had been so beautiful, yet due to my actions his back was forever scared, while his soul was filled with nothing but anger and hatred. He’d grown into a hitman, someone who cared nothing for the sanctity of life, other than to destroy it. And Gabriel—I’d broken him completely, the man no longer sane, his mind lost forever in a sea of madness.
I opened my eyes and looked down at my disfigured curse. My cock was vulgar to look at, a thick mess of scars. That was one thing that Thierry had lied about. The boy had said it wasn’t ugly. But it was, and not only in appearance. The monstrosity had destroyed lives—mine included, making me wish the surgeon hadn’t sewn it back on. I should never have punished Gabriel for cutting it off, because it had been a fit punishment for everything I’d done to him. I was the guilty one, not him, so maybe I should let him live the rest of his life in peace, instead of stalking him like a nightmare.
I refocused on Thierry. He was still fast asleep, his slim body lying naked on my bed. I ran a hand down his face, again wondering whether I could be satisfied with just him. The boy was talented in bed, and always made me feel desired, his hard cock proof. Brando and Gabriel had never gotten hard for me, and they definitely hadn’t come like Thierry did. Instead, they had flinched away from my touch, looking at me as though I was a repulsive monster.
I brushed my lips over Thierry’s forehead. He remained asleep, his youthful face so perfect. Although he was eighteen, he looked younger, the boy’s innocence and placid nature adding to it.
“Do you love me?” I asked.
Thierry didn’t say a word, only his gentle breathing reaching my ears.
I shook him. “Do you love me?”
Thierry moaned, but still didn’t wake, what we’d done prior to Alessandro’s arrival probably having worn him out.
I started stroking his brown hair, the waves so soft. “You respond to me how I wished Brando and Gabriel had. I wanted their compliance, but they never gave it to me. But you ... you give me everything.”
“He’s pretending.”
My back straightened at Satan’s voice. “No, his body doesn’t lie. He comes.”
“That’s a bodily function, you fool.”
“I’m not a fool! He shows me affection, and says kind words to me.”
“Only to survive. He’s an intelligent boy. He knows what to do and say to get by.”
“You’re just saying that to upset me!”
Thierry’s eyelids fluttered open, my shouting having disturbed him. A smile followed a second later, my angel happy to see me.
I smiled back. “You do love me.”
He blinked at me, looking as though he wasn’t sure what I’d said.
“Tell me you love me.”
“I love you,” he replied softly.
“He’s lying,” Satan hissed.
I ignored Satan, knowing he was the one lying. Thierry didn’t have sex with me; he made love to me, my beautiful angel always complying. I bent down and kissed his lips. He returned the kiss, making me even happier. Sì, Satan was the liar. He was always enticing me to do the wrong thing, playing me like a harp, the evil vermin knowing which strings to pull. He’d encouraged me to pursue Brando and Gabriel, even Matteo, and all those boys hated me. Yet, he warned me against Thierry, someone who spoke words of love to me.
Thierry moaned as I ran my hand up his slender, p
erfectly formed cock, which responded so well to my touch. I pushed my tongue inside of his mouth, taking what I wanted. My nose bumped against his, causing me to yelp, that Devil’s spawn in the next room having broken it.
Thierry sat up, looking concerned. “Are you all right, Master?”
I gingerly ran my fingers over my bandaged nose, furious with Alessandro for attacking me. My flesh was bruised, while my body ached from his vicious kicks, the man an animale.
“Not really,” I said. “The pain relief didn’t work very well.”
“Would you like me to apply ointment to your wounds?”
I pushed to my feet. “No. I’d rather make Alessandro pay for what he did to me.”
Thierry’s eyes widened. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not?! Is it because you lust after him like Matteo?”
“No, no,” he said, shaking his head vigorously. “I only want you.”
“Liar! I’ve seen the way you act around Matteo.” I sat back down and grabbed his face, making him cry out. “Your eyes follow him every time he passes by.”
“I haven’t touched him, because I love you.”
“He’s lying,” Satan whispered. “He’s saying what you want to hear.”
“Tell me the truth!” I yelled at Thierry, because right now I was starting to believe Satan.
“I-I am,” Thierry said, his voice trembling. “I-I love you.”
Satan’s breath brushed my neck. “You know it’s not true.”
I squeezed Thierry’s cheeks harder, making him cry out again. I wanted to believe him, but couldn’t ignore Satan, especially since nothing but fear filled Thierry’s eyes right now.
“That’s because you’re hurting him.”
I went still at the sound of Saint Michael’s voice, my namesake rarely talking to me. He’d shunned me for listening to Satan, the evil he’d cut down with his holy sword.
“Unhand the poor child,” Saint Michael growled. “You do not want to damage him like you did to Brando and Jagger.”
“It’s Gabriel.”
“No, his name’s Jagger now. You made certain of that when you ruined him. He’s no longer an angel; he’s a devil in disguise. He hurts people because you hurt him. Abuse reaps abuse, so don’t start the circle again with Thierry.”
I let go of Thierry’s face. “Please forgive me,” I said, kissing his reddened cheeks.
“Fool, don’t listen to him,” Satan hissed. “He’s filling you with guilt so you don’t punish the lustful boy.”
I ignored Satan, preferring Saint Michael’s advice, because I didn’t want to ruin Thierry. The boy was still pure, no insanity or evil tainting him.
I pulled back. “Do you forgive me?”
He nodded, his eyes shiny with unshed tears.
“Say it.”
“I forgive you, Master.”
Smiling, I kissed his forehead. “You’re such a good boy, and I should never have blamed you. It’s Matteo’s fault for tempting you. Has he touched you since that day on the hill?”
Thierry bit his lip.
“Tell me, Thierry, so I can learn to trust you more.”
He nodded. “Whenever he walks past he runs his hand over my...” He blushed, not needing to say the word. “That’s the reason why you find me looking at him when he passes by. I’m terrified I’ll get punished for what he does to me.”
I brushed his hair back again, his French accent always giving me chills. I loved it, like I loved the boy. “I will never punish you for his actions, and I will make sure he stops.”
“Merci,” he responded softly.
I smiled again, the boy’s politeness and compliance making me happy. I kissed his forehead, then pushed off the bed. “I’ll go tell him now.” I walked over to my robe and pulled it on over my bandaged ribs, then headed out of the bedroom, closing the door behind me. My eyes went to the couch. Matteo was sitting next to the FBI agent’s handicapped brother. Lucan had similar features to his sister, his eyes the same maple color. Though, his hair was a lighter color, the long auburn waves making him resemble a hippy.
Matteo looked over his shoulder, his blue eyes going to me. A sneer formed across his handsome face. “Guess what I found out, Fucktard?”
“Don’t speak to me like that!”
Lucan jolted. He grabbed for Matteo, pushing his face into my nephew’s shoulder, acting like a child. To my surprise, Matteo put an arm around him, pulling Lucan closer, looking like he was protecting him. It was a softness I’d never seen in my nephew before, the man usually too self-serving.
“Keep your voice down around Lucan,” Matteo said. “You know raised voices scare him, not to mention he’s terrified of you.”
“Then don’t provoke me when he’s here.”
“I kept my voice down, plus it’s not my fault your name is Fucktard. You should’ve told your mother to call you something else.”
“You’re a disrespectful boy who deserves to be punished.”
“I am being punished; I have to look at your ugly face without planting my fist in it.”
“I’m not ugly, unlike the brutes you like.”
“I think Alessandro’s attractive, and you said so too, so I know what’s hot and what’s not.” He grinned. “Guess which category you fall into?”
“The good one, otherwise Thierry wouldn’t say he loves me.”
Matteo shook his head. “That kid really deserves an Oscar.”
“He is not acting around me,” I hissed. “He truly loves me. His body shows it when I touch him. He doesn’t recoil like you do.”
“Because he’s a whore.”
“He is no such thing, and you’ll stop treating him as one. He told me you touch him when you walk by. That will stop immediately.”
“Why? He loves it. Yesterday, when I ran my hand over his small cock he moaned—in ecstasy.”
“Liar!”
Lucan jolted.
“You’re still raising your voice,” Matteo said, shaking his head as though I was a naughty child. “So, I will punish you with sweet, sweet information. Did you know that Thierry was brought up in a whorehouse, where men paid for his services?”
“You’re lying.”
“No, he’s not,” Satan cut in. “He’s speaking the truth. Go on ... ask Thierry, or even Saint Michael. He cannot lie like the boy does.”
I gritted my teeth. “Get out of my head.”
“Not in it,” Matteo replied, then realization crossed his eyes. “Oh, are you talking to your buddy the Devil? Well, tell him he’s a cunt for not replying to my messages. And to think I offered him my soul to have you brutally butchered.”
I tensed, wishing I could slap the smirk off his smug face.
“Oh, I almost forgot to pay Thierry for the blowjob he gave me earlier.” Letting go of Lucan, Matteo reached into his pocket and pulled out some money, holding it out for me to take. “Tell him he did a fantastic job, and that I wouldn’t mind going for another round in an hour.” He leaned over the couch, waving the money at me. “Go on, take it. I’ve popped in a little extra since he swallowed.”
“Stop lying!” I yelled, ignoring the handicapped man’s cry.
“Why would I lie?” Matteo batted his eyelashes.
“Because you hate me.”
“Really? I didn’t know that, thanks for telling me,” he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. He threw the money on the floor. “And one more thing; when Thierry sucks your cock next, just think about all the cocks he’s had in that lovely mouth of his.” Matteo started laughing. “Hey, maybe that’s why you were scratching like crazy yesterday. He gave you an STD.”
I stormed towards him, beyond furious. Matteo leapt off the couch and went into an attack stance, the glare on his face telling me he wanted to rip me to shreds. Lucan pushed out of his seat and ran for Christo’s room, screaming for my brother. Ignoring him, I moved around the couch, having had enough of Matteo. I no longer cared about my promise not to touch him, because no one spoke to
me like that and got away with it.
“You will pray for my forgiveness once I’m done with you, demon,” I said.
“No, you will pay for raping me.”
Knowing I needed to act fast, I rushed at him. He whipped his leg around, kicking me in the side of the head. Yelling out, I stumbled to my right. A different kick connected with my stomach, sending me crashing into an armchair. Winded, I raised my hands to defend myself, Matteo looking like he was going in for the kill.
A blurred figure bashed into him, knocking him to the floor. Matteo yelled out as my brother landed on top of him. Looking in pain, Christo pushed to his feet, his health growing worse by the day. “I told you not to touch my brother!” he yelled at Matteo.
Matteo jumped up, his anger now directed at Christo. “He attacked me first!”
Christo’s eyes shot to me. “Is this true?”
“He attacked me with words,” I said, wrapping my arms around my sore stomach.
“I don’t care what he says. If you threw the first punch then it’s your fault. So, stay away from him or I’ll be the one attacking you!” Christo spun around and stormed back into his room, slamming the door shut.
My gaze moved to Matteo. He was grinning at me, as though he’d won a battle. I pushed to my feet and ran a hand over my crotch, wanting to beat him at his own game. “Your ass was so tight.”
His smile dropped. He took a threatening step forward, looking primed to kill.
I lifted my chin. “Attack me, demon, and Christo will punish you far worse than the few angry words he gave me.”
Matteo clenched and unclenched his hands, giving me the impression he was contemplating risking it.
I continued, “Though, I do regret one thing about taking you.”
“What? ” he snapped.
Even though I was in pain, I smiled. “I really should’ve worn a condom. Maybe that’s why I was scratching. You gave me an STD instead of Thierry.”
“I did not!”
“Does that mean you’re disease free?”
“Yes! Unlike you.”
“No, I’m pure. So, how about you pull down your pants and bend over for me.”
My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 12 Confrontation Page 3