by Frankie Love
But I’m lying to myself. There’s something else – something more. He makes me feel it all, the hatred, the desire, and the deep need in my bones. This hasn’t happened before. Not with anyone, even the boy I was briefly seeing at school before daddy found out. Those moments were sweet and clumsy, but this… this makes my head spin.
I look up at Matteo, shivering. He looks troubled, his dark eyebrows knitted together in worry. I’m still in protective mode, shielding my body from the effect he’s having on me.
His gaze drinks me in, and stops between my legs. I feel vulnerable. With my knees pulled up, I suddenly realize my pussy is exposed. My panties aren’t see through, but I’m worried they’re sticking to me, making me more exposed than ever.
“You’re fucking wet,” Matteo says. He’s a safe distance away from me, and he can still see the wet spot blooming on my cotton lingerie. “Why do you want this? Why…”
I don’t want to answer his questions, and at the same time, I want to tell him everything. But I don’t get a chance, because the next moment, the door to the cell slams into the wall.
“Matteo,” a cold voice rings out.
Both of us look up, startled.
I was the girl who cried wolf. I thought I was in the presence of a monster when I was with Matteo, but it wasn’t until now that I stared into the eyes of pure evil.
Angelo Abbate is standing in the cell, his thunderous eyes drinking in the scene before him. He narrows them on me and pure hatred overwhelms his features.
It is then that I start praying again.
4
Matteo
My father appears in the doorway and the color drains from my face. This can't be fucking good. And he's looking at me with a thunderous expression. He only briefly glanced at Bianca, and I could see his disgust from far away.
"Matteo, what the fuck are you doing?" he asks. His voice is pissed, and he looks like he's about to beat me into a pulp on the spot. "Come talk to me outside."
He walks into the hallway and I follow like a goddamned sheep. What man can really stand up to his father, though? I've always been seeking his approval. I won't rest until he's proud of me. Won't fucking budge until he admits I am as much of a son as his children by marriage.
I throw one last look at Bianca before walking out. She looks fucking terrified, her legs now stretched out in front of her. I'm regretting the change of positions. I'm regretting not touching that wet, hot spot between her legs and seeing just how much I turn her on. Fuck knows why.
My father waits impatiently in the hallway.
"She's not dead," he points out in an icy voice as soon as I join him in the hallway. His tone is raised, and I'm fairly certain Bianca can hear him.
"You told me not to kill her," I hiss in response. "That's the only reason she's alive right now." Liar, a voice in my head accuses me. You couldn't kill her now. Not after seeing that looks of lust in her eyes.
My father hesitates, possibly the only moment I've seen him indecisive in my entire life. "She will die," he says, and it hurts. Why does it fucking hurt? I imagine her pretty face roughed up and bloodied, and it makes me want to vomit. Shit.
"When?" I ask instead, the pussy that I am.
"Soon enough." My father's voice is careless. He doesn't give a crap about her. "Don't worry about that. As far as Bianca Da Costa is concerned, you've done your job. Now get the fuck lost."
"What?" I sound about as shocked as I fucking am. "Why?"
"Do I need a goddamn reason?" My father snarls in my face. "You have no business questioning my orders. Get the hell out of here before I let the dogs tear you to pieces."
I stare at him blankly.
"Go!" He barks the command.
I'm about to stand up to my father for the first time. I don't want to leave. I want to stare at the pretty, vulnerable girl curled up in the corner in her cuffs. I want to taste her. And I want to find out just how tight that little pussy of hers is.
"I'm not leaving," I say. I sound a little less imposing than I'd like to be. "She didn't get food, or anything to drink. You can't just leave her to rot down here!"
"That's my fucking business," my father replies. "Did I fucking stutter? Get lost!"
Hearing the words I'd just used on Bianca from his lips hurts. It makes me feel like I'm a monster, just like my father.
The memories come flooding back. Being pumped with drugs, my system barely recovering from their venom. My vicious snarls as I'm led into the fighting cage. Tearing up men, tearing them to pieces. Killing, like a goddamn machine.
And then the relentless pounding of my head, the buzzing in my mind when they weaned me off the drugs. They decided I wasn't fucking worthless when they saw me fighting in that cage. Decided to use me as a hitman instead. I was still killing people, ending lives. I just had a fancier outfit now.
I shake out the sleeve of my blazer. "I'm coming back to bring her food," I tell my father stubbornly.
"You're doing no such thing." He turns his back to me and points for me to climb the ladder. He goes first, and checks to make sure I'm following. It's bizarre seeing a man of his girth and stature in such a dirty environment. It doesn't suit him.
I'm about to step on that first ledge when her small voice calls out for me.
"Matteo."
The word is barely above a whisper, but I hear it. She's begging for me to come back. She's scared right now, scared as fuck. And I'm just deserting her in the middle of nowhere.
I hesitate on the ladder, looking over my shoulder. I need to go back.
"Don't even fucking think about it," dad tells me. I look up, and by his frozen expression, I can tell he heard Bianca's whisper. He knows there's something going on there, and he doesn't like it.
Knowing I'll follow his orders, he climbs up the ladder. He doesn't look to check I'm following him, not even once. And being the dutiful and obedient dog I am, I climb after him. Such a fucking pussy.
We climb outside, and I shield my eyes from the brightness of the sun above us. It's easy to forget what time of the day it is when you're in the dungeon. I almost forgot there's a life up here, as well.
My father is waiting for me on the ground, and he grabs me by the shoulders as soon as I'm out of there.
"What the fuck was that all about?" he asks. "Why do you care about that goddamn girl? She's nothing."
I hesitate, and I know it seals her fate. The moment I admit I'm not completely apathetic concerning her marks the end of her life. But at the same time, I can't say I don't care - she'll die then too, won't she?
"She's pretty," I manage to get out between gritted teeth. Fuck yes, she's pretty. Probably the most beautiful girl I've laid eyes on. That's not fucking it, though.
My father roars with laughter. "That's all you've got?" he mocks me.
I narrow my eyes at him. "I am a man," I respond. "You didn't notice her looks?" Just thinking about my father eyeing Bianca is threatening to make me violently ill. He just chuckles though, and pats me on the shoulder.
"You're still a red-blooded man, I see," he tells me. "Good for you. Now go stick your dick in some pussy, it'll make you feel better."
My lips are a tight line as I nod. I don't want that. I want that spoiled princess who is shivering with fear in her prison as we speak. "Thank you, father," I say automatically.
"Don't fucking call me that," my father reminds me, and pushes me in the direction of the house.
I move away and start walking in the direction of the mansion. There's an unassuming golf cart parked in front of the bunker, which I assume is my father's transportation back to the house. It looks so goddamned innocent next to the fact we have a prisoner underground, it almost makes me laugh.
"Oh, and Matteo?"
My father's voice interrupts my thoughts and I look back at him.
He looks solemn and serious as hell. His eyes lock on mine, and his fists tighten. "Don't fucking go back to see her."
I try to hide the tension inside m
y body. I stare at my father and clench my fists. He is right, of course. I'm already thinking of ways to sneak back inside Bianca's cell and touch her. Smell her. Taste her.
"I won't." The lie falls smoothly from my mouth, and my father turns away, seemingly satisfied. Why shouldn't he be? I've never lied to him before. Always followed orders, even the most brutal ones.
I stalk towards the house with hunched shoulders. I'm already plotting how to get back to Bianca. Sweet, innocent Bianca...
I wonder if her pussy tastes as forbidden as her skin.
I spend the rest of the day cleaning up another one of my father's messes. I have to deal with a man who cheated him out of a large amount of money. My father knows I am his most brutal hound, and I deliver my blows that day with such anger, it even shocks my subordinates.
Hours and a two broken kneecaps later, I’m supposed to be heading back home. Of course I don’t live with my father. I have a shitty apartment where I only sleep and fuck. But before I can head to the dump I call home, I know I have to check on her… Bianca.
Her face has been running through my mind all fucking day long. I’m desperate to see her again, even though I already know it’s a bad idea. My father specifically warned me to stay away from her, yet I’m disobeying his direct orders.
I catch a ride with one of the other hounds, asking him to drop me off at the Abbate mansion. He does as he is told, and when he questions my actions with a worried look, I silence him immediately with my cold gaze.
I don’t feel safe until he’s pulled away from my father’s property, and even then, I’m worried someone will spot me. I don’t know what my father’s plan is for Bianca, but I can’t let him leave her rotting in that cell. She needs some food as well, and I managed to stop at a gas station to buy some cheap snacks and sodas.
Truth be told, I can’t quite believe I’m doing this. Fuck, she’s just a girl. A barely legal, very dangerous girl who could ruin my relationship with my father beyond repair. And somehow, I don’t give a fuck.
I sneak on the grounds of my father’s mansion until I’m far away from the lights of the house. I should’ve brought a flashlight, but thankfully, the stars are bright enough tonight to lead me.
I stop a few feet away from the entrance to the bunker. Someone’s standing above ground – one of my own hounds. I freeze on the spot and my hands form fists at my sides. So he has someone else watching her. One of my most fucking vicious.
I approach Sarge, grinning at him and clapping him on the back. Best to pretend I’m here on my father’s orders, or he could suspect something. He narrows his eyes at me and I play innocent.
I grunt at him and he repeats the same non-verbal greeting. "You watching her?" I ask him in a slow, lazy voice. Pretending like I don't fucking care. Like she hasn't been on my mind the whole fucking day.
"Yeah." He narrows his eyes at me. "Why the fuck are you here?"
"Sent by capo," I reply easily, the lie rolling off my tongue. "I can take over from here."
He gives me a doubtful look and I can tell he's about to tell me off, but I don't give him a chance. I give him a warning look, making damn sure to establish my dominance.
"I said," I snarl. "Get the fuck away from here."
Sarge steps closer to me, breathing down my neck. For a second, I'm sure he's going to kick my ass. Instead, he just stares me down. He's taller and more muscular, but I can fucking take him, and I won't hesitate before tearing his balls off.
"You have a thing for her," he says. Fuck. Am I that easy to read? "Who wouldn't?" Sarge chuckles deep in his throat. "Dream on, Matteo. She's not yours to keep. She's dead meat."
"We'll see about that," I respond sharply. She won't be dead, over my fucking corpse. "Get lost, Sarge."
He shrugs. "Your funeral."
He walks away and I wait until he's out of view, swallowed by the woods on my father's property. I'm shaking, my fingers nervous since I never delivered the punch I've been holding in all day. Finally, when Sarge is safely out of the way, I unlock the bunker door and stare into the dark abyss.
I can hear her cries from up here.
And it fucking hurts.
I climb down hurriedly, locking the latch back in place as I climb the ladder. I turn on the lights. As decrepit as this place is, it's equipped with some essential shit like electricity.
Unfortunately, that doesn't really serve for the comfort of our prisoners, but instead their torture.
Her whimpers stop, and I can tell she's heard me approaching. She's scared, probably trembling in the corner of her cell. I want to comfort her. But at the same time, the beast inside me wants to take her. Ravage her. Explain to her that she was made for me.
I open the door that leads to her cell. It creaks on its old, rusty hinges. Not even fucking locked...
Bianca is curled up on the floor, just like I knew she would be. She's shaking, too. But once she sees it's me, an expression of relief passes her face.
Is she happy to see me?
My dick twitches in my pants despite my best intentions. Fuck, she awakes something primal in me. Something lustful, dark and so damn delicious.
I stalk over to her and she cowers away in fear which only makes me more pissed off. She shouldn't be scared of me. I'm not here to hurt her... I just... fuck. I don't have a reason. I just wanted to see her pretty heart-shaped face again. Touch that silky skin. See if her cunt is still wet for me.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
She's shivering. The cell is freezing and she's still in her lingerie. She shakes her head, a movement I barely detect. On a whim, I take off my leather jacket. Not the best thing for warmth, but it will have to do.
She cries out when I approach her, trying to protect herself with those small dainty hands. I move them out of the way roughly and put the jacket on her, wrapping her ice-cold skin in my musk and cologne.
Her eyes follow mine fearfully, trying to find the reason why I'm being kind. Fuck me if I know. I just can't stand to think of her down here alone.
"Did anyone hurt you?" I ask her. She shakes her head no.
"Did someone come down here?" Again, she shakes her head.
"Do you need to use the bathroom?" This time, she nods, quickly.
A twinge of regret runs through my body, an unknown emotion for me. We're treating her like a fucking animal down here. No water, no food, shackled down to the ground. Fuck, she won't last long. She already has that crazed, lost look firmly set on her face.
"You attack me, you get hurt," I explain to her. She's looking away, and I grab her chin to make her face me. When my fingers hit her skin, I'm shocked by its warmth compared to the rest of her body. "Are you listening?"
"Yes." Her words are weak, barely above a whisper. She's breaking already. We're going to destroy her down here. I can't let that fucking happen.
"I'll unchain you and you can pee there." I point towards the toilet in the corner. "I'm waiting outside. One wrong move and you get hurt."
She nods eagerly and I do as I promised I would. The chains that hold her fall away from her wrists and ankles, and seeing her reddened, bruised wrists makes me ache to kiss them better.
I turn around. It's her first chance to attack me, but I don't let her think about it. I walk outside calmly and speak to her over my shoulder. She's still frozen to the spot. "Hurry the fuck up."
She scrambles for the toilet, and almost falls down. She's dizzy from sitting down such a long time, dizzy and disoriented. I don't make a move to help her. I'm not here to hold her goddamned hand.
I wait outside the door until she's done, and as soon as I hear the toilet flushing, I walk back in. I half expect her to lunge at me, finding some kind of weapon in the grimy cell. Instead, she's waiting on her spot in the corner meekly.
"Will you chain me again?" she asks timidly.
I give it a moment's thought. "Not yet."
I walk over to her, and she cringes into the wall. I hate that she does that. Instead of questioning wh
y, I hand her the bag with snacks I bought a few hours earlier. Bianca looks confused.
"It's food," she says after she takes a look in the bag. "For me?"
"Eat." My order is simple, and she pulls out a soda, popping it open. She drinks in long, hungry gulps, and almost chokes on the bubbles.
I've done this routine plenty of times - it's not the first time we have a prisoner. But this girl... she makes me feel for her. She makes me regret the bad shit that's going to be done to her through no fault of her own.
She drinks a soda and attacks a bag of chips next. She eats everything in the bag and I sit there and watch her like a fucking idiot. My leather jacket overwhelms her small frame, and she looks fragile and young as fuck sitting there.
She licks her lips once she's done, getting every last crumb off her mouth. "Thank you," she says, her voice soft.
I don't reply. I gather the trash instead, not saying a word. I'm getting ready to leave, and I know full-well I haven't chained her back. Fuck me, I just don't want to. I don't want to see her get hurt unless I'm doing it, and she's begging for that beautiful pain.
I head for the door. My cock is throbbing in my jeans, and my mind is begging her to call out to me. Make me stay. Make me touch her, just one more goddamned time.
"Wait."
I exhale after what seems like ages, just as my hand lands on the door handle. I turn around excruciatingly slowly, staring her down. She doesn't shy away from me this time.
Instead, she crawls over to me on all fours.
My cock is enormous, thick and throbbing by the time she's reached me. Fucking hell. Does she even know what she's doing to me?
Bianca Da Costa sits at my feet and looks up at me, her eyes begging me to stay.
"What do you want?" I ask. My own personal brand of torture. I know it's hard for her to say it, but I need to hear those words from her lips. "Tell me, Bianca."
"Stay," she says. Her lashes flutter open, then closed, then open. She's nervous. "Stay for a while. I can't... I can't be alone. I'm too scared."