My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 8 Questions

by Marita A. Hansen

  He cupped my breasts and started tweaking my nipples, making me desperately want him to suckle on them. As if he could read my mind, he pulled me down and started licking at my right nipple, then sucked part of the breast into his mouth, the man rough, giving me hard nips, probably paying me back for biting him on his thigh. But I enjoyed every little nip and tease of his teeth.

  I pushed my breast more into his mouth. He jerked his head to the side, making me beg, “Keep going.”

  He laughed low. “Only when you deep throat me without complaint.”

  “So, this is payback?”

  He grinned. “Sì. When you fuck the boss, you do what he says.”

  “You’re not my boss, you don’t pay me.”

  He thrust up. “You should pay me for this.”

  “Then that would make me the boss and you my bitch to do what I demand of you.” I laid down on him and angled myself so my clit was directly over his cock. I started rubbing on him, using his body for my own pleasure.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he said.

  “If I have to pay you, I’m going to make sure I get my money’s worth,” I replied, almost choking as my clit rubbed against his cock just right. “Which means: I’m coming first.”

  “Is this a competition now?”

  “Yes.” I continued to rub on him, the man pure pleasure.

  Wrapping his arms around me, he rolled me and pulled out, then pushed me onto my front. I gasped as he penetrated me from behind, fucking me hard, what he was doing making me want to come instantly. “Yes, yes,” I said, “I’m going to—”

  He removed his cock and bolted off me. “No you don’t, you’re not coming until I say.” He grabbed me and flipped me onto my back, then pulled me closer, placing my ass at the edge of the bed and my legs over his shoulders. He lifted my ass off the mattress and impaled my pussy, then immediately started fucking me again, the look on his face carnal. I cried out as he slammed into me, burying himself deeper than I thought humanly possible. It sent shockwaves through my body, making me almost pass out from the force of my orgasm. He continued pounding me, then, with a roar, he slammed into me one last time, his cock jerking inside of me. I cried out again, coming a second time, the feeling incredible. After a moment, he pulled out and swung me around onto the bed, then lay down next to me.

  “I won,” he breathed out.

  I ignored him as my body kept going, the pleasure below building up again.

  “Are you still coming?” he said, sounding surprised.

  “Shut up,” I muttered, not wanting it to stop.

  He grabbed my pussy, pressing his thumb against my clit. I gasped and arched up, a last burst making me cry out his name, the third orgasm not as strong as the other two, but still fucking great. I shuddered, then fell back onto the bed, my brain cells fried. The bed shifted around me, then I felt his mouth on me below, making me jerk in surprise. I looked down at his head, finding him licking my pussy.

  “What the fuck?” I breathed out.

  He peered up at me with a grin. “I wanted to see what you tasted like after you came.”

  “You’re strange.” I reached down and placed my hand on his head gently, weary of hurting it. “But, keep going, I don’t mind.”

  He licked my clit, then nipped it, causing me to yelp. He laughed, then licked it again, making me wonder if he was up for going again.

  He pulled back with a smirk. “I win.”

  “Nope, I’m clearly the winner. I came three times.”

  His eyes went wide. “You came three times?”

  “Yup.”

  “Then I’m the winner, because I made you come multiple times without even trying, whereas you only made me come once.”

  “No way, I’m still the winner. Not my fault you go brain dead after the first spurt.”

  He bent down and bit my thigh, making me yelp again. “I don’t take losing well,” he said, looking like he was going to laugh. “Or women biting my thigh.”

  I rubbed the red mark. “I didn’t bite you that hard, and you need to keep your teeth to yourself, you big bad wolf.”

  He frowned.

  “What’s wrong?” I said.

  He moved up the bed and laid down next to me. “I’m finding it hard to accept you’re Sophia,” he said, running his fingers through my hair.

  “What brought that on?”

  “Sophia nicknamed me the big bad wolf.”

  “Stop talking to me like I’m not Sophia,” I said, “and why don’t you think I can be her, me, whatever?”

  “I never said I didn’t accept you as Sophia, I said I find it hard to. I thought you were dead.” He took a hold of my head and leaned in, kissing me on the lips. He pulled back, leaving me breathless. “And, now I have you here, I won’t ever let you go.”

  “I don’t want to leave either,” I said, leaning forward for another kiss.

  He returned the kiss, then pulled back again, his face going serious. “You’ve changed so much.” He ran his fingers down my cheek. “It’s why I didn’t realize it was you. You still resemble your younger self, but not enough to say without a doubt it’s you. When you were younger, you were soft and full-figured, now you’re all angles, with tight muscles. Your cheekbones are more prominent too. Maybe it’s because you lost the baby fat; I don’t know, but it did throw me.”

  “Of course I’ve changed, it’s been seven years.”

  “But, your changes are extreme, not only in your body, but your personality. When you were younger, you were such a sweetheart, now...” he sighed. “What happened to make you so vicious?”

  “Vicious in what way?”

  “The way you knocked me out and raped me.”

  “You raped me too,” I snapped, upset he’d brought that up again.

  “I was never a good man, whereas you were such a sweet girl.”

  I shook my head, knowing I was never sweet. “I hid my bad side from everyone.”

  “No, you were definitely sweet,” he said, turning onto his side to face me.

  “I slapped you that first day we met.”

  “I deserved it.”

  “It still wasn’t a nice thing for me to do, and why are you looking at me like that?” I said, not liking his intense stare. It made me feel like I was being cross-examined.

  “You don’t make sense,” he said.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Why don’t you have an Italian accent, even a slight one? If you are Sophia, which I’m not saying you aren’t, you would’ve left at seventeen. That means you would have some accent, but you sound fully American. So, why don’t you have one?”

  “I used to get English lessons and I was fascinated with American television,” I replied, feeling happy I was able to answer him.

  “Why are you smiling?” he asked.

  “I only just remembered that. You seem to trigger a lot of my memories.”

  He sat up straight, looking excited. “Then tell me how you got to America?”

  I frowned. “I can’t remember.”

  “Okay. What about the FBI? Why did you join them if you were mafioso?”

  “I didn’t remember being in the mafia; I don’t even remember my family.”

  “But, you told me you remembered your brother being handicapped.”

  “I meant as a whole. I remember my brother vaguely, but not the others. I think it was because he was with me when I was being drowned.” I covered my mouth, fear now coursing through me. “Did he survive?”

  “Sì, he did,” Frano said, “but he lost his mind and had to be put into a mental institute.” He placed a hand behind my head and pulled me to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

  I slipped one of my arms around him. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault, it’s those Donatelli. They destroy everything they touch.” I let go of him and sat up. “Like Camila will do. If you marry her, she’ll bring nothing but pain into your life.”

  “I need what she offers. The twins have to die alo
ng with Matteo. I also need an alliance, and she’s right, my famiglia is suffering financially. We were on the verge of bankruptcy prior to taking down the House of Whores. We owe a good many people. The sales from the House of Whores will only cover our debts.”

  “I thought you were a wealthy family.”

  “We pretend to be. My father made a grave error of judgment a few years back due to his dementia. We lost millions of dollars because of it.”

  “I understand, but what about my family? We can ask them for help. I will contact them, tell them what has happened. If our two families can link together, we can be strong enough without needing Camila.”

  “Your famiglia left the island seven years ago. I don’t know if they have money, let alone whether they are still in the transportation business.”

  “Transportation?”

  “They transported my famiglia’s slaves until my father had a falling out with yours, which is another reason why they probably won’t help me.”

  “But, if I asked.”

  “I hardly see them talking to me nicely after all the bad blood that has happened between our families.”

  “That was because of your father. You are now the Don and with my help we’ll win them over as allies.”

  “So, you will fight for me?”

  “Of course.”

  He smiled. “Such a faithful lover.”

  I smiled back. “So, I’m your lover now, not your slave?”

  “Sì, and you will get a room regardless of what Camila says.”

  “Which means: you’re still going through with this sham of a wedding.”

  “You said that with such venom.” His smile widened. “Do I detect some jealousy?”

  “You know you do, you arrogant ass.”

  “I truly am an arrogant ass.” Grinning wide, he turned over to show me it, then quickly turned back. “Now I know you have a fetish for male culo, I better not turn my back on you again.”

  I smacked his arm, making him laugh. “I’m not going to stick anything up there.”

  “Because if you do, I’d fuck your culo until you bleed.”

  My eyes widened. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

  “Just insuring you don’t get finger happy.”

  I held up my fingers and wriggled them. “Oh, I’m definitely going to get finger happy, you stronzo.” I reached under his arms and started ticking him, making him wriggle about laughing.

  “Stop!” he cried out, slipping down the bed to get away from me. “I’m ticklish.”

  I sniggered. “The big bad don is ticklish. Who knew?”

  He pushed off the bed and pointed a finger at me. “Don’t make fun of me or I’ll put you over my lap and spank you.”

  “Don’t you even think about it.”

  His eyes narrowed, the evil gleam in them making me nervous. “You just challenged me.”

  I jumped off the bed. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Oh, yes you did.” He shot around the bed and grabbed a hold of me, pushing me onto the mattress. I struggled to get up without hurting him, but he was too strong. He pulled me onto his lap, clamping an arm across my back so I couldn’t get free.

  “Frano! Don’t you dare!”

  “You said dare,” he laughed.

  “You know what I mea—” My word was cut off as his hand came down on my ass, making me cry out, the bastard not going soft.

  “Your skin reddens beautifully,” he said.

  I kicked out with my legs. “Let me go!”

  “Just one more.”

  “No!”

  His hand came down across my other cheek, making me cry out again. I could feel his cock hardening against my stomach, but right now I was more interested in smacking him than fucking him.

  “You stronzo!” I snapped. “Let me go. Now!”

  “Such a poor sport.” He swung me around onto the bed and kissed me before I could tell him off, the man beyond passionate, his kiss melting the anger out of me. I kissed him back, the spanking now worth it.

  The sound of the door opening pulled Frano away from me. I glanced at what had caught his attention, finding Honey standing in the doorway, staring at us opened mouth.

  “Get out!” Frano yelled.

  Looking horrified, she held up a tray of food. “But your breakfast,” she said, casting her gaze downwards.

  “You didn’t knock!”

  “I did, but it mustn’t have been loud enough. Can I just leave the tray and go?”

  He indicated to the other side of the bed. “Hurry up then.”

  She scurried over and placed the tray down on the bedside cabinet, then jumped as he came up behind her. Not only was he butt-naked, but he had a raging hard-on.

  “I’ve put some painkillers next to your coffee,” she said, looking everywhere but at him.

  “Will they make me sleepy again?”

  “No, these ones are non drowsy.” She cast a desperate glance at me. “I didn’t bring enough food for two. Do you want me to get you some food as well?”

  “Yes, thanks,” I answered.

  “Why are you still standing here?” Frano snapped, making Honey jump. “You have your answer, now leave. And, knock louder next time.”

  “I’m sorry, Don.” She sidestepped Frano, and rushed out of the room.

  “Stupid woman,” Frano muttered as the door closed. He sat down on the bed and covered himself, then moved the tray onto his lap.

  “You terrified the poor woman with your hard-on,” I said, giving him a nudge.

  He yelled out as some of his coffee spilt over the side of the mug. “Don’t do that again,” he growled, “because I will kill you if you mess with my coffee.”

  “You’re a coffee addict?”

  “Most definitely.” He picked up the mug, sighing as he sipped the coffee. “So good.” He pointed to the omelet. “You can have that; I’ll wait for the next lot.”

  I grabbed the fork and knife, and started eating, shoveling the egg into my mouth, the food a Godsend. I hadn’t eaten properly for days now.

  He stopped sipping his coffee and stared at me.

  I froze mid chew. “What?”

  “You look like you haven’t eaten in days.”

  “The Donatelli basically starved me.”

  His amused look dropped. “Bastards.”

  “You didn’t feed me much either.”

  “That was—” He blanched, then turned his head.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head.

  I placed a hand on his arm. “Frano, tell me what’s wrong.”

  “That was Alberto’s job.” He moved the tray onto my lap and got out of bed. “Stay there, I won’t be long.” He headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind him, the mention of his brother without a doubt hurting him. Alberto may have been a monster, but Frano had grown up with him, loved him, and for him to have to kill his own brother—I couldn’t imagine how much pain he was going through.

  Realizing he wanted to grieve in private, I stared at his food, my appetite now gone. The shower went on. I moved the tray off me and placed it on the bed, then leaned back against the headboard, thinking about my own brother. He was older, had auburn hair, different from my rich red-brown, but he looked just like me and … my mother. An image of my mother looking at me with concern formed in my head. She was scared for some reason, but I didn’t remember why.

  A knock came from the door, pulling me out of my thoughts. Honey’s voice followed. “May I come in?”

  “Yes,” I called out.

  Honey entered, stopping as she saw me. “Where’s the Don?” she asked, still appearing uncomfortable.

  “In the shower.”

  She nodded, then scurried to the bed and placed the tray down on Frano’s bedside cabinet, her glances at me seemingly disapproving.

  I frowned. “What’s your problem?”

  She let go of the tray and straightened. “What you did to the Don…” She blanched. “I’m sorry, I sho
uld leave.” She turned to go.

  “No, finish what you were going to say,” I said.

  She stopped halfway across the floor and turned to face me. “You raped him.”

  My face went stiff. “Who told you?”

  “You admit it?”

  “Yes.”

  Her eyes widened. “Why would you do such a thing?”

  “I wanted revenge, and I lashed out in the worst possible way,” I said, the pain in my chest at what I’d done to another lover returning.

  “Then you shouldn’t be in the Don’s bed.”

  “He raped me too; in fact he raped me first.”

  “That’s no excuse,” she snapped. “Camila was kidnapped by the Don, yet she would never do something like that to him.”

  “And, you have known Camila for precisely how long?”

  “She’s still a good person.”

  “Her family tortured Jagger.”

  “That was the priest, not the others.”

  “Her brothers beat Frano, while her father imprisoned me and Jagger.”

  “Camila isn’t responsible for what her family does.”

  “What is this conversation even about?” I asked.

  “That Camila is a good person and she deserves to be with the Don, not you.”

  I laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” she said, scowling at me.

  “You are so naïve and gullible.”

  “No, I’m not!”

  “You are. You fell in love with a man who kidnapped and tortured you, forgetting about your husband, the same man who begged me to save you. Then you fall for Camila’s manipulations, and she is manipulating you. Do you think she told you about what I did to Frano out of the goodness of her heart? No, she had ulterior motives. Did she ask you to spy on me and Frano?”

  “No!”

  “Did she ask you to watch Frano, so I didn’t hurt him again?”

  She pressed her lips together, not saying a word.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “No.”

  “So soft with that no. You can’t lie very well, Sarah.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Why not? It’s your name.”

  “You don’t have a right to call me that,” she snapped. “I would still be Sarah Phillips if you’d gotten me out sooner. Now I can’t leave.” Her gaze moved to the phone, then back to me. “Will you let me call home?”