by Rina Kent
Just when I think he’s calmed down, his blue eyes focus back on me. They’re cool, but I know what he hides underneath that façade.
“You were trying to escape, is that it?”
I gulp. “I want to see my dad. My family. My home.”
“Well, that’s not going to fucking happen.” His tone turns lethal. “I’m your only family and this is your only fucking home so you better get used to it. Oh, and I’m going to punish you for your pathetic attempt at escape. I’ll spank your ass red until you beg me for an orgasm, and guess what, Pet?”
Tears barge into my eyes as I whisper, “What?”
“You won’t get it. Bad girls don’t have the privilege of an orgasm.”
“I don’t care what you do to me. I won’t stop trying to escape.”
“Be my guest. I’m arranging new guards and this place will be more secure than a military camp. You won’t be able to set a foot outside without me knowing about it. And every time you try to run, I’ll punish you.”
“I hate you.” I hit his chest, a tear streaming down my cheek. “I hate you so much.”
“Hate me all you want, but you’re not leaving.”
Salli appears from the kitchen, carrying a plate full of food. She stops at the view of the scene then smiles and speaks with her strong Italian accent. “Lunch is ready.”
“Grazie, Salli,” he says.
My next idea to escape forms loud and clear in my head.
“I’m not eating.” I stare at Jasper. “Unless you let me out of here, I won’t eat.”
5
Jasper
My little Petal hasn’t eaten for days.
The first day I left her to her fucking antics and ignored her.
By the second day, I’ve had enough of her stubbornness. I had the new housekeeper, Salli, prepare Cannelloni and then I forced Petal to eat.
At first, she threw it away, so I spanked her ass, forced her to open her mouth and then I shoved the food down her throat.
She vomited it back up.
Fuck that.
I stand at the door of the bedroom staring at her as she sits on the balcony, her gaze lost in the distance. She has a book open on her lap, but she’s not reading it.
Her shoulders and cheeks have thinned. She always had beautiful forms and curves, but now they’re starting to lose their usual liveliness.
She is starting to lose her liveliness.
If Petal continues like this, she might lose herself altogether. I can punish her, force her to eat by edging her toward orgasms, but something tells me that will only make things worse.
It might work for a while, but eventually, I’ll break her to the point of no return. She’ll become a shell of herself and I might never be able to find her once I lose her.
So I go down a route I’ve never used before.
With a deep breath, I step inside and sit on the chair across from hers. She pretends I’m not there, her cheeks hollowing and her lips thinning.
Her gaze is still lost in the distance where workers have started cultivating the land. It’s slow, and not many have shown up, but they’ve been doubling and tripling over the past few days.
While people here respect me and my last name, if they know I brought a Costa on their turf, they wouldn’t approve.
Fuck them and Enzo who already figured it out. He’s hell-bent on using her for this war, and that’ll never happen.
“Petal,” I call her name in a soft voice. “Look at me.”
She doesn’t.
“Petal,” I warn.
“Are you going to let me go?” Her usual question is neutral, dead even.
“No.”
“Then I have no reason to look at you.”
“Why do you want to leave so much?” I ask trying not to lose my cool and spank her ass. “You never actually liked your life in Chicago. It’s a place that rejected you and threw you from one foster home to another.”
“It’s still my home.” Her voice is weak but stern as her gray eyes meet mine. “My cats are there, my work, my friends. My life! Don’t sit there pretending like you didn’t kidnap me from everything that mattered to me.”
“How about me? Don’t I matter?”
“No.” She thins her lips in a line and stares in the distance again.
“Come on, Georgina.” I lean closer and take her hands in mine.
Her lips twist, but she doesn’t remove her hands from mine.
She might be on some sort of a strike, but she has missed my touch, just like I missed having her by my side. I didn’t even sleep on the same bed as her for fucking days because since she started this strike, any sudden touch triggers her damn anxiety attacks.
“Georgina…” I coax, my fingers stroking the back of her hand in small circles, making her shudder in response. “I thought we connected?”
I repeat her words from when I first brought her here. We do connect, we did since that fucking day I met her as Joseph, and it didn’t change when I saw her again as a woman in the hospital.
“I hate that,” she whispers.
“You hate what?”
“Georgina,” her voice is barely audible.
“You hate your name?”
“No,” she peeks at me through her lashes. “I hate when you call me by it.”
My lips lift in a small smile. I know that, but I’m a dick and I wanted her to say it aloud.
“I called you by many names since you were a little brat.”
“Hey,” she puckers her lips. “I wasn’t a brat. I was a good boy.”
She’s adorable as fuck when she’s pouting. She always was even when she was a “good boy”.
“Little Joe was a brat,” I insist.
“No, he wasn’t.” She glares.
“We’ll agree to disagree.” Gaining distance, I keep her hand in mine and stroke a lock of hair behind her ear, making her lips tremble. “I liked you then, though, you were soft and innocent and you didn’t let the boarding school’s atmosphere change you.”
“Is that why you protected me?” she murmurs.
“I wanted to protect your innocence, to keep you lively and not kill your light like mine was. You were the reason I remained sane.”
She leans into my touch as I cup her cheek. “Jas…”
“I need you with me, Petal. I need your liveliness and your light.”
“I have no light anymore.”
“You do. We just have to find it again and pull it out kicking and screaming.”
She chuckles, the sound music to my ears. “Is that your method with everything?”
“Probably.”
She sighs heavily. “You can’t keep me against my will, Jas.”
I grit my teeth, but I force myself to speak in a normal tone. “We’ll talk about that, but first, you need to eat.”
She remains silent.
“Georgina,” I warn.
“Fine, stop calling me that.”
I smile, caressing her cheek before calling for Salli. She has prepared her pasta — again. This time alla Norma. Salli even knows how to make couscous but that’s for another time.
The plump housekeeper wishes us a good meal and disappears, closing the door behind her. I pull my little Petal so she’s sitting on my lap and I feed her every last piece of pasta.
My little Petal stares me in the eyes as she wraps those pretty lips around the fork, slightly moaning as she chews. Her pupils are huge, seducing me into their gray depths.
“Are you being a cocktease, Pet?” I push the empty dish away and wipe her mouth with the napkin.
“Who?” Her voice lowers as she rubs her ass against my dick. “Me?”
The traitor hardens in an instant. It’s been so fucking long without her and it might have been torture.
Scratch that. It was fucking torture.
I stand up, and she gasps wrapping her arms around me as I take her into the bedroom and slowly set her on the bed.
She doesn’t even hesitate before
pushing the nightgown over her head and throwing it beside her. She’s wearing nothing underneath, not even panties.
She reaches for the handcuffs, but I tsk, making her pause, brows furrowing.
There’s nothing I want more than to make her fantasies come true, and drive her delirious with pleasure, but there might be something she needs even more than this.
Kicking my pants and boxers away, I yank my shirt open then crawl on top of her.
My body molds to her tits, crushing them against my chest. My lips find hers and I kiss her with abandon.
She gasps, startled by the tenderness of my kiss, but soon enough, she’s moaning against my mouth, her hands getting lost in my hair.
She tastes of the pasta and me. I don’t know at what point she started to taste like me but I’ll do everything in my might to always have me on her.
Still kissing her, I lift her leg and then my dick finds her entrance, thrusting into her so slowly, she moans against my mouth.
“Oh, God, Jasper.”
I don’t hurry or pick up my pace. I continue kissing her as my hips slowly move, my cock unhurried inside her. I savor her and let her savor me in return.
It’s the first time I go this slow with her, the first time I’m not using her, and I can see the realization in her gray eyes as her hips jerk and tears rim her lids.
It’s the fantasy she didn’t know she needed — the one where someone worships her body, makes her feel like a fucking queen.
Because she is.
My queen.
I kiss the hollow of her jaw, her throat, her collarbone. I rotate my hips slow and without urgency.
Soon enough, she’s coming all over my dick. The orgasm goes through her for such a long time as she wraps her arms around me, using me as an anchor.
I follow her, spilling inside her with a force that startles even me.
We’re breathing heavily as we stare at each other, riding our pleasure.
She opens her mouth to say something, but I don’t want her to ruin this moment, so I capture her lips with mine and take her under all over again.
6
Georgina
Jasper is giving me whiplash.
Since that day he fucked me slowly and tenderly, I feel like he’s been pulling down my walls one by one.
The way he touched me, held me, kissed me? I couldn’t even conceive it in my wildest dreams. It’s like a different type of fantasy — the type I didn’t know I had.
I never actually enjoyed normal sex. That’s why I had those videos, that’s why I harbored those fantasies, but maybe I never enjoyed normal sex because it didn’t come with the intensity Jasper offered.
The level of passion he touched me with still lives under my skin. He does spank me and choke me, and I love it, but I find myself craving the other side. The side where he kisses every inch of my skin and worships me as if I’m the only one for him.
Almost as if I’m his queen.
That’s wrong, isn’t it? I’m not supposed to crave my captor, my kidnapper, my tormentor.
It was easy when he used to torture me, to have me beg for orgasms, to strap me with vibrators. At least back then, I pretended I was here against my will, I was forced into this, and he was taking my choice away.
I can handle his harshness, but what am I supposed to do with his tenderness?
Shaking my head, I come down the stairs. I’m not supposed to want to do anything about him or his change of moods, because I’m going to leave.
I don’t care how, but I’m escaping this place and going to my family. I’ll leave Jasper and his mind games and slow fucks behind. I don’t want or need that headache.
Over the past couple of days, he’s allowed me to walk around the house because apparently, he has guards now and I can’t escape even if I try.
He also caressed my cheek and told me to be a good girl. It’s my weakness when he calls me that or pet. His petal. I hate the sound of my full name on his lips. It doesn’t sound right, almost like a stranger — and a twisted part of my brain doesn’t want Jasper to be a stranger.
He never was. Not in the past and certainly not now.
I find Salli in the kitchen. She always asks me to talk slower, but she’s the only person here who speaks English, aside from Jasper.
There’s Enzo too, but I’ve been staying away from him as much as I can. He still scares the hell out of me and looks at me as if he wants to murder me.
“Buongiorno, Salli.”
“Buongiorno, signorina.”
“Georgie is fine,” I smile. She won’t stop calling me that.
Salli is older, around mid-fifties if I had to guess. She’s a plump woman with soft olive skin and hands that look as if they worked the earth.
She’s organizing fresh vegetables into the enormous refrigerator and I step in to help her.
“Wow. Are you preparing food for an army?”
“There’s an important meeting tonight,” she says, her accent less thick.
Jasper and his meetings. They’re almost never-ending. In a short span of time, he gathered so many men. Why does he keep me if he has so countless people who follow him and who’d love to stay with him?
“I’ll help,” I tell Salli.
Not only do I have nothing better to do, but I need to get close to Salli because she might as well be my only chance of escape. If I become friends with her, surely she’ll find a way to get me out of here. I know I shouldn’t bet too much on it considering she’s so loyal to Jasper, but I can at least milk her for information.
“So, how did you learn English?”
“I lived in the States when the late Mr. Vitallio was alive.” She makes a cross and murmurs words in Italian which I assume are prayers.
“Were you there when...you know…”
“No, but my husband was.” A sad gleam covers her face. “Costa men killed him and everyone else in cold blood.”
My heart aches for her loss and I caress her hand. I doubt Salli knows who I am or she wouldn’t be talking to me right now.
A small boy with dark hair trots inside, followed by a silver kitten. “Nonna!”
She crouches in front of him to clean the dirt from his clothes, telling him soft words in Italian. I smile at him and he hides behind her big skirt, peeking at me with curious, huge eyes.
“This is Francesco, my grandchild.” She tells me. “He’s just shy.”
“It’s okay.” I take a piece of ham and offer it to the kitten, my heart aching with how much I miss Mrs. Hudson and Mr. Bingley. I know Dinah and Katya won’t leave them unfed, but I’ve been away for some time. If my friends filed a missing person report and couldn’t find me, maybe they gave the cats up to a shelter.
My heart squeezes. Mr. Bingly is too picky and wouldn’t survive in a shelter.
Damn Jasper. If he kidnapped me, couldn’t he bring the cats, too?
Speak of the devil. Literally.
I lift my eyes just to meet Jasper’s blue ones. He’s wearing a suit without a tie. The rugged look with his styled hair makes me swallow.
He’s so mouthwatering, it’s unfair.
It’s all because of the weird ways he’s touching me, I swear. If he weren’t confusing me with all these feelings, I wouldn’t be looking at him like this.
I wouldn’t want to jump into his arms and kiss him or something.
He’s my captor. My tormentor. Not someone I should jump into his arms and kiss him.
And yet, as he stands there with a hand in his pants and his gaze following my every movement like a hawk, I lean more forward so he’ll get a better look at the cleavage peeking from the opening of my dress.
His eyes darken, and I pretend to only focus on petting the kitty as she nuzzles into my hand.
Salli’s grandson joins me, crouching beside me and taking turns caressing the kitten.
Jasper speaks to Salli in Italian. While I don’t fully understand what they’re talking about, it seems to be about food, so it’s probab
ly about tonight’s dinner.
The whole time, his attention keeps filtering back to me and it’s hard to pretend he doesn’t exist when I’m doing everything I can to not clench my thighs.
Before he leaves, Jasper leans over to ruffle Francesco’s hair then he whispers to me, “Stop tempting me before I fuck you right here right now.”
“I-I wasn’t,” I murmur back, making sure Salli doesn’t hear.
“Yes, you were. You want me as much as I want you, pet, you just don’t want to admit it.” He leans over and kisses my temple with soft lips. “Be good.”
And then, he’s out, leaving me a mess on the floor.
The worst part is that another thought keeps swirling in my brain. I want to be good for him. I want him to come back tonight and hug me to sleep.
And that can’t go on.
I really need to get the fuck out of here before I stop seeing Jasper as my captor and more as someone else.
7
Jasper
The number of people who show up to the meeting is beyond anything I expected.
Men ranging from their late teens to their sixties stand in the grand dining hall that Salli has stuffed with Southern Italian dishes and a copious amount of wine from the cellar.
Enzo and I are at the head of the table, watching the people who answered his calls — or rather, mine.
Guards stand outside as additional security to the meeting.
When I was with the Costas, I avoided such meetings for a reason. They’re business and boring, and I had no interest in those. Killing made more sense than any political antics.
But now, business needs to be done.
These men look up to me — the last Vitallio around here. When Nonno and Padre were alive, they were their godfathers, the reason for their livelihood, and the Costas took that away from them.
Now, they’re searching for a leader, someone to give them hope, power, and more importantly, the life that was snatched from between their fingers.
Emilio and his sons didn’t only shoot my family, but they also hunted down every friend, loyal worker and possible force that could come around and bite them — like Enzo’s family.