by Sam Mariano
Her gaze lingers on the folder for a moment as she flips it open. “I like learning things,” she answers. “I wouldn’t say I like school.”
“Do you plan to go to college?”
“Do they have college in Heaven?” she shoots back, raising an innocent eyebrow. “You’re going to have killed me by then, right?”
“Think of all the money I’m saving you on tuition,” I tell her, eyes still on my laptop. Since we’re talking about it, I open up a tab and bring up the site for Northwestern. “What are your grades like?”
I already know what her grades are since Adrian already gave me all her files, but it’s not a normal thing to know, so I ask anyway. She rattles off her GPA, the classes she’s in, the classes she hates, and the classes she likes. She tells me about someone named Lena. I think that’s her shitty friend. Adrian said he didn’t like her, so I adopt his opinion of the girl. Not that they would’ve likely remained friends anyway, but if she couldn’t handle Mia with Vince, she certainly wouldn’t be able to handle Mia with me. They’re not going to be friends anymore regardless.
I mean, if I kept her. I’m not going to, but if I did, Lena would be kicked off Mia’s friendship team first thing.
“You’re in AP biology?”
She nods. “I’m not a big fan, but I was trying to do anything I could to see if I might be able to qualify for scholarships. I did qualify for some, but not enough. I don’t think I’ll be able to go—unless I get the Heaven University tuition rate, naturally.”
I smile faintly, scrolling down the page. “Naturally.”
“At least the campus is sure to be beautiful,” she says. “Pearly gates. Gorgeous courtyard. I’m gonna study out there all the time.”
“It sounds like a nice time.”
“I bet no one ever gets bad grades at Heaven University, either. Even if you don’t do the work and you just nap in the clouds all day long, you still pass with flying colors.”
“Seems reasonable. Too bad I can’t get in; I’d definitely give you a good excuse to skip classes.”
Now she smiles at me. “Yeah, barring some pretty significant changes to your lifestyle, I don’t think they’re gonna let you in.”
“Maybe you should transfer to Hell University. I can visit you there.”
Mia rolls her eyes, drawing a stapled pack of papers from her folder. “Due to my involvement with this family, I probably already have. Heaven University probably yanked my acceptance letter as soon as I walked through your front door.”
“Eh, Hell University has better extracurriculars anyway.”
“Why didn’t you go to college?” she asks.
I regard her, raising an eyebrow. “What makes you think I didn’t?”
“Vince said you didn’t. You seem like someone who definitely should have gone to college.”
“My father went to college. Had an actual career before he got sucked into the family business. When he was younger, he rejected it, insisted he wouldn’t run things, that his younger brother Ben could do it in his stead. It’s not that simple, though. It’s not a choice in my family. If you’re the eldest son, your path is set. That’s the way it’s always been done, and at least in that, my family doesn’t break tradition.”
Mia nods her understanding. “Right, I’ve heard you guys are pretty traditional.”
I nod my head. “My grandfather let my father get his degrees and start his career, allowed him distance from the family business. He thought maybe he’d outgrow it. Only, my grandfather had a heart attack. Died on the table for a minute, but they managed to resuscitate him.”
“Oh, wow, that’s scary,” she remarks, sympathetically.
“I imagine so. After he recovered, he was more aware of his own mortality. He told my father it was time to stop pretending to be something he wasn’t and accept his role as head of the family. My father declined. Still wasn’t interested. So, my grandfather got a little more aggressive, my father tried to leave, and a woman got involved. As women tend to do, she complicated things.”
Mia scoffs. “Women don’t complicate things. Morelli men complicate things. You’re the king of complications, so I’m sure your father was, too.”
He was more like Vince than me, but I don’t want to bring him up, so I don’t tell her that. “Well, anyway, the long story short is that he fell in love with her, but she didn’t fall in love with him. His father used her to control him, to get him into the position he rejected until he bent to fit it. His path was… full of wrong turns and unhappy destinations, though. He didn’t just bend to fit his role; he broke apart and put the broken pieces back together in that mold. I’m told my father wasn’t always evil, but he certainly turned out that way. At any rate, when I came of age, he saw no point in sending me to college where I might get idiotic ideas of some other life path I wanted to follow. He didn’t expect me to take to the business side of things so well, but I think he was concerned that given a traditional background, I would realize I could be successful without his legacy and build something of my own. My brother would’ve run the family then, and he would’ve enjoyed the role, but my father thought a little too much. He was worried Dante would push him out to take over before his time.”
I can’t help smiling a little now. I’m not often spiteful—it’s such a waste of time—but on rare occasion, someone will earn such a high spot on my shit list, I can’t resist fucking with them. Obviously I won’t share with Mia that I did exactly what he feared Dante would do, just so I could give my father the most fitting “fuck you.”
I run things far more efficiently than that old bastard ever did, anyway.
Mia’s gentle voice breaks through my darker thoughts. “But he’s sick now, right?”
I nod, glancing over at her. “Yes, he’s sick now.”
“So you run things for him,” she says, painting this in a much nicer light—as if I’m some dutiful son, instead of the man who unseated the king to steal his throne.
I let her have it and nod once more. “Yes, that’s right.”
Now she smiles, approving of this item she can add to the “not an evil bastard” column on the list she is clearly making. It dims after only a second though, and I’m not sure why until she adds, “Is there any chance of your father getting better, or is it…?”
I give my head a firm shake. “No. There’s no chance of him recovering. It’s just a matter of time until he dies.”
“I’m so sorry,” she says, offering me sympathy I don’t need.
I don’t reject it though. The more reasons she has to feel sympathetic…
Actually, no that’s not what I want. Goddammit, why do I keep forgetting that? This is the opposite of what I should be doing. I’m supposed to be making her hate me. Building up sympathy and understanding is the wrong thing to do. I’m supposed to be performing, playing up my dark side, showing her someone she won’t want to protect. Much as I hate to agree with Adrian on this, right now even I’m not sure she’ll talk. Her heart is soft to begin with, prone to seeking out reasons to understand and sympathize with people. I assumed that my hurting her would turn that off like it would for most anyone, but it isn’t working out that way. She’s still prone to protecting me.
“Have you been abused?”
Her eyes widen with surprise and she looks over at me. “What?”
“During childhood or at any point before you met us.”
Frowning, she says, “Um, no. That’s a random getting-to-know-you question.”
“Well, you said you want to study psychology, correct? So, surely you can see why I wonder if you have a pattern of behavior. From what I’ve seen, you protect your abusers. I just want to know when it started.”
“I don’t protect my abusers,” she says, sounding somewhat annoyed. “I don’t have abusers.”
That makes me trust her denial a little less. “Really?” I ask, failing to keep the skepticism out of my tone. “You don’t think you’ve been abused.”
Scowling,
she says, “That’s not—I don’t… Obviously what you did to me the other day was horrible, but I’m not…”
“I wasn’t just talking about me. Didn’t Vince throw you up against a wall the other day?”
“No.” I’m making her angry. That’s interesting. It angers her that I’m reviewing the abusive bullshit that’s been done to her because she doesn’t want to be a person who was abused in any capacity? Maybe that’s not it. Since she doesn’t seem to think primarily of her own self-image, I’m probably looking at this wrong. How would Mia’s brain process this? It wouldn’t be about her, but about the other person.
She doesn’t want us to be abusers. If she doesn’t accuse us, then we’re not. Maybe even in that, she’s trying to protect us.
She isn’t going to talk. Or, if she does, it’s going to be an accident. They might trip her up and get something out of her, but at this point, she’s not going to talk because she wants to. This girl has no malicious intent, not even after all I’ve done to her.
What if I just kept her? My schedule is self-imposed. There’s no consequence if I change my mind. Beth didn’t hate me to begin with, and neither does Mia. I could keep her for a while. Enjoy her while it feels good. I just won’t make the same mistake I made with Beth, I won’t get so attached that I can’t let go once it wears off. When she becomes disenchanted with me, then I can get rid of her. Why should I get rid of her when I still like her?
I’m not going to.
I’m going to keep her.
Fuck it.
I feel relieved on the surface, but just below it fear bubbles up. I hate that fucking feeling, but flashes of Beth come back to me. That woman fucking destroyed me. Giving someone that kind of power over you… it’s too much trust. It’s like building a castle around a landmine and showing someone where the button is to set it off. It gives her too much power.
Of course, I don’t have to fall in love with Mia. I can just enjoy her. Falling in love is where I went wrong. That was a fucking idiotic thing to do and I should have maintained more control over myself. I was careless and I paid a heavy price. I’ll just be more careful, enjoy all of the perks without giving her any of the power.
I don’t feel good about this decision, but I think I’ll still make it. I need a reminder of why, though. If I’m going to change all my well-crafted plans and cause waves in my own life, this girl needs to remind me why she’s worth it.
I close my laptop, set it aside, and climb from the bed.
Mia glances up at me with questioning eyes.
“Come on,” I tell her.
A bit hesitantly, she puts her papers down on the bed and eases toward the edge. “Where are we going?”
“I need a break,” I say, waiting for her to climb off the bed. “I’m tired of researching Dubai.”
“Dubai? Why are you researching Dubai?”
“Thinking about doing some business there.”
“But you operate in Chicago,” she says, confused.
“Not that kind of business. The other stuff. Maybe I’ll take you there.”
Laughing a little, she says, “What?”
“There’s a mall you’d love,” I tell her, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her close. “It’s an interesting city. The development a single generation can make—well, I can relate to that kind of change.”
Struggling to keep up with my whims, she shakes her head slightly. “We’re traveling together now?”
“I have to go for business anyway—why not take my favorite fuckdoll with me?”
Her eyes narrow at me, but amusement sparkles in the blue depths. “Your only fuckdoll.”
I smile down at her, cupping her face in my hand. She leans into my touch and warmth suffuses my entire being. Everything feels a little bit better now. Something about her is addictive. I don’t just want to touch her, I need to. My fingers skim the smooth planes of her bare body, my blood warming accordingly. She still doesn’t participate, but she doesn’t object to my touch.
I feel like having her mouth around my cock, so I tell her, “Get on your knees.”
She holds my gaze for a moment, then sinks to the floor. I don’t even have to tell her what to do next—she hooks her fingers in the waistband of my pants and drags them down, freeing my cock. She glances up at me again, as if for permission.
Instead of taking her by the hair and fucking her mouth like I want to do, I wait to see what she’ll do on her ow. Her hand tentatively floats up to grasp the base of my cock and she gives it a few soft strokes. Her gaze darts up at me again like she wants direction, but I don’t give it to her. Summoning her own instincts, she grips my cock a little tighter and nuzzles her cheek against it.
Fuck, I like her tenderness.
“Show my cock how much you like it, sweetheart.”
She shouldn’t like it at all, but I can see in her eyes that she relishes my words. Even if my cock should be the bane of her existence, directing her to show it some love makes her want to. My little fuckdoll is very good at following directions.
Flicking another glance up at me, she shifts on her knees and leans her face in, dropping a few kisses along my length. Her tongue follows—a nice, long lick.
“That’s right, just like that. Open that pretty little mouth.”
She does, slowly taking half into the warm, wet paradise. Her soft lips close around me more tightly and she moves her tongue, caressing me as she moves back and forth over my cock. I give her a minute to get her nerve up and take me deeper, but she doesn’t, so I push a hand into her hair and urge her forward. She tries to resist, but not hard. The little sounds of panic she makes send vibrations right to the base of my cock and I groan, letting her pull back to take a breath.
“Sorry,” she says quickly, her eyes watering from her efforts.
“Just relax,” I tell her. “We’re going to try again and I’m not going to stop this time. Take all of it.”
Mia nods her head and I guide her forward again. Now that I’ve warned her, my grip on her is a little firmer as I push my cock into her mouth. She has to commit to it, to desire it. If she’s half-assing, she’s going to keep panicking before she ever takes all of me.
The firm hold works better. Giving her less of a say, telling her to take all of it instead of giving her a choice. Her gag reflex still attempts to stop her, but she has my voice in her head and she chooses to weigh that more heavily than her own body’s natural reflexes. By the time I feel the tip of my cock settle at the back of her throat, she’s stopped trying to pull back. I still keep my grip on her, just in case.
God, that’s fucking hot. I look down and see her mouth against my pelvis. She braces one hand on my hip and one on my ass for balance. It’s not her intention to send pleasure straight to my soul, but she makes a noise and the vibrations of her tight throat do just that. It’s really fucking enjoyable teaching her things.
“Stay relaxed,” I advise her, slowly pulling my hips back and then easing into her throat again. Fuck, that feels fantastic. “Good girl,” I tell her, repeating the same motion with just a little more force. Each thrust of my hips brings a steady hit of pleasure. I’m torn between the desire to pick up the pace and fuck her mouth until I can spill my cum down that perfect throat of hers, and the competing desire to pull out and haul her to the shower so I can fuck her the way I wanted to.
Ultimately, as much as I enjoy her mouth, I stop and pull out. She swallows, taking a few deep breaths and looking up at me.
I offer her my hand and she grabs it, standing and regarding me with cautious curiosity. I keep hold of her hand and haul her into the bathroom. It’s strange to be holding someone’s hand—I’m far from a hand-holder.
“Was that okay?” she asks, not quite confident in her skill level.
I give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Yes. We’ll practice. You’ll get even better at it.”
“So generous of you, volunteering your time to educate me like that,” she teases me.
&n
bsp; “I’m a real saint,” I agree.
I release her hand to shuck my pants, then I step into the shower to turn on the water. Mia’s already naked, but when I turn around she has her arms crossed over her breasts, ridiculously overcome by a bout of shyness. Her gaze jumps away when I turn back, but not before I catch her looking me over. Smiling faintly as I approach her, I place a light hand at the small of her back and tug her close. “You’re allowed to look.”
Her cheeks are already pink, but I’m sure she’s blushing even harder since I called her on it. “I wasn’t,” she says, unconvincingly. “I mean… not on purpose, I just….”
At least she stops her ridiculous attempt to hide her breasts from me. Her touch is tentative, but curious. She runs a hand from my right shoulder, down my bicep. She bites her bottom lip and her gaze drags across my chest. I’ve never had a single shy bone in my body, so her perusal doesn’t bother me, but her cheeks remain pink like she’s a bit embarrassed. If I’m gonna keep her, I’ll break her of that virginal shyness. I like certain perks of her inexperience, but I’m not wild about this one. She shouldn’t be ashamed of her sexuality. Vince probably didn’t help with that the other day, but I can easily undo that damage.
“I’ve never showered with anyone before,” she tells me, like there’s even a chance I might not have known that.
I nod my head anyway. “I kinda figured.”
“It seems super intimate,” she adds.
“Well, I’ve had my cock inside you quite a few times. I don’t think it’s more intimate than that.”
Mia squirms. “No, I guess not.”
I intend on having it inside her many more times, too. There’s no point telling her that—I like to make her squirm a little. As long as it doesn’t upset her like it did a couple days ago, I’ll keep her enrollment status at Heaven University to myself.
Thinking of Mia’s joke causes a fond smile to tug at my lips and I can’t help leaning down to give her a kiss. “Get your little ass in my shower.”
“Yes, sir,” she says lightly enough, stepping out of my embrace to walk ahead of me. I take the opportunity to admire the back view, the slight bounce of her perfect ass. Jesus Christ, her body.