My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 11 Consummation

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My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 11 Consummation Page 6

by Marita A. Hansen


  “It won’t come out,” Bianca shouted, her panic palpable. Her eyes shot to her window. “They’re going to kill me!”

  I undid my seat belt and climbed over Andriena, the blood coming from her head scaring me. But Bianca was my priority right now, because she was right: the Donatelli would kill her for having poisoned their heir.

  I yanked at her seat belt, the fucker refusing to budge, the buckle damaged. I pushed open her door and climbed out. Turning back, I put my foot on one side of her seat belt and grabbed the other end, yelling out as I wrenched on it. It creaked, but didn’t give way, so I did it again. This time the strap came free from the seat. I quickly pulled her out, glancing over my shoulder to see where the Donatelli were. Men were getting out of the car, one already heading down the hill, treading carefully on the slippery slope.

  I shoved Bianca, yelling, “Run!”

  As she took off, I climbed back into the car and unbuckled Andriena’s belt. I glanced at the driver, who was slumped over the wheel, no doubt dead like his partner.

  I pulled Andriena free and turned around with her in my arms. I looked up the hill, knowing it was too late for me to run, the Donatelli soldiers only seconds away. I glanced over the car, seeing Bianca almost across the field, the woman amazingly fast. Relieved she’d gotten away; I turned back to the Donatelli soldiers as they surrounded me, all of their guns pointed at my head.

  6

  Jagger

  Even though I was relieved that Bianca was gone, I still wished her nothing but happiness. If anyone deserved it, she did, especially after she’d risked her life for me. I headed into the bathroom, wondering whether I should’ve left with her. Not because I wanted her, but because I hated living in this hellhole. Although it looked beautiful, it held nothing but ugly memories. If anything, I wished I had been sent to the Santini after my parents’ murder, instead of the D’Angelos. They were still relatives, plus Auntie Concetta had told me she would’ve adopted me if her husband hadn’t stood in the way. I knew why she wanted me as a son: she’d been in love with my father. I’d spotted them kissing once when I was ten. I’d kept it a secret from my mother, because in all truth, I’d wanted my father to be with my auntie. She’d been so nice to me, often sending me presents even when it wasn’t my birthday. Of course, I wasn’t allowed to tell my mother, which I had no problem with doing—since I hated her. My mother had been nothing but cruel to me, showing me no love, only the strap of a belt or the slap of her hand.

  I got into the shower, knowing my life would’ve been so much better if Don Santini had said yes. Plus, I would’ve fitted right in with the Santini household, because I could’ve easily passed off as a brother. I looked just like Brando, the third oldest of my auntie’s sons. Pity he was the only Santini brother I didn’t like. Unlike the others, he was an absolute stronzo to me. But then again, it was probably because he thought I liked Bella—his sister. He’d yelled at me that I couldn’t touch her because she was my cousin. I hadn’t actually been hitting on her, but he’d annoyed me, so I had retorted that she was only my second cousin. The Santini twins had to yank him off me, the stronzo having been viciously attacking me. He obviously had issues—or presumptions of what I was like, which was hypocritical, considering I’d heard he was a bigger prick with women, taking them whenever he wanted. I had done it for a job, not for the fun of it—like him.

  I turned on the shower, my mind going to his sister. I liked Bella, but only as a cousin. The woman was sweet and easy to talk to. She’d rung me after the incident, apologizing profusely. Unlike most women, she treated me like a human being instead of a piece of flesh. Sí, it was probably because she was my cousin, but I still liked it.

  Noise came from my room, making me wonder whether Camila was back. I grabbed a towel and got out of the shower, still not feeling right in the head. My eyes were blurring every few minutes. I knew I should tell Frano, but he would probably insist on having Honey check me over, and there was no way I wanted that female near me.

  I gave myself a quick dry, then wrapped the towel around my hips and went into the bedroom, finding a glass of juice and a plate of food on my bedside cabinet, the cook’s assistant no doubt having gotten it for me. After Honey’s meltdown, I’d instructed the cook’s assistant to serve me my food instead of Honey.

  I gulped down the glass of juice, my mouth drier than an old woman’s figa. I dug into the pasta next, unusually hungry. As I ate, my mind went to what I’d said to Camila—about maiming her. I wouldn’t have done it; I’d just wanted her to stop pushing me. She was as sex-crazed as her uncle, just not in a sick way. I forced her out of my mind, not wanting to think about any woman, let alone a Donatelli.

  I finished my food, then laid down on my bed, feeling lethargic. I closed my eyes for a moment, opening them at the creak of my bedroom door. Honey walked in, making me shoot upright, angry that she refused to leave me alone. A sudden bout of dizziness hit me, sending me crashing back down.

  “What’s happening to me?” I said, my words slurring.

  Honey sat down on the bed. “You’re fine, I just gave you something to calm you down.” She smiled at me sweetly, although it chilled me to the bone. “You really have been working yourself up far too much lately. I overheard you yelling at Bianca earlier today, someone who risked her life for you. I think you’re purposely trying to push all of us away, because of what happened to you.”

  I went to yell out for help, but it came out as a mumble.

  Honey brushed my hair back. “Don’t be scared, I would never hurt you. I want you to get better. And forget about Camila, she’s a bad woman. She’s just using you like her uncle and Alberto did. I’m the only one who doesn’t use you. I want to protect you from all those bad people, and I know you want me to. After my fall down the stairs, I realized that you never meant to hurt me. You were instead pushing me away because you wanted to protect me.”

  I stared at her, thinking she’d lost her mind.

  She brushed my hair back again, stroking me like an animal. “It’s like when you were training me. You did horrible things to make me stronger, and I am stronger, all because of you. I didn’t think I was until now, until you pushed me so hard that I realized I could take anything you threw at me. And now I have to make you strong as well, to get you better so we can be together.” Her eyes lowered down my body, only the towel stopping me from being naked. She removed it, then grabbed my sheet and covered me with it. “Unlike Camila, I won’t take advantage of you. I want us to make love when you’re better, but until then you need to rest.” She dropped the towel on the floor, then pulled out a syringe from her pocket. “What I put in your food isn’t strong enough, so I’ll give you a little more. It will sting a bit, but don’t worry, you’ll sleep well.”

  I shook my head, not wanting anything. Regardless, she still pushed the needle into my arm.

  “You really are strong,” she said. “I thought the sedative I’d put in your breakfast would’ve knocked you out.”

  I continued to stare at her, my fucked up time with Camila now making sense. The crazy troia! I wanted to yell and scream at her, but couldn’t move. Whatever she’d pumped into my arm had immobilized me, leaving me completely vulnerable.

  Closing my eyelids with her hand, she kissed my forehead. “Sweet dreams, Jagger.”

  Noise came from the doorway, Camila’s voice following. I willed myself to call out to her, but my mouth refused to work.

  “What the hell are you doing to him?” Camila yelled at Honey.

  “I found him lying on the floor when I brought in his dinner. Looks like he took some drugs again.”

  Footsteps approached the bed. “Will he be all right?”

  “Yes, though he needs to stop using.” The bed went up. “And I want to apologize for how I treated you yesterday. I realize now you were just trying to help me.”

  “Really?” Camila asked, sounding surprised.

  “Of course, and if Jagger wants you, I will respect his deci
sion, as long as you don’t mind me attending to him. I’m a nurse first and foremost.”

  “Okay.”

  “Thank you, and I’m happy things are cleared up.”

  “Bene, and you can go now. I’ll look after him.”

  “That’s probably not a good idea. After all the drugs he took, I need to stay by his side—just in case he has a bad reaction. I might need to give him an antidote. Though, I’m sure he’ll be fine tomorrow. You can come back then.”

  “Um...” Camila paused. “Okay.”

  The sound of footsteps receded, then the door closed.

  “Well, that was easier than I thought,” Honey said. “And by tomorrow, Camila won’t cause us any more problems. She really should check her room before opening her mouth to Rita. I was hiding under her bed, hoping to hear something to use against her. And I did.” She laughed. “Apparently, Rita’s going to escape, and when she’s gone, I’m going to tell Frano that Camila set his girlfriend up. He’ll throw her to the Landi, and you’ll be all mine once more.” She brushed her lips over my forehead. “I love you, Jagger, and I will do anything to keep you. Anything.”

  7

  Rita

  Bianca and the others had left a few hours ago, leaving the house quiet. I hadn’t seen Camila or Jagger for a while, something I was happy about. If anything, I wished they had left too, along with all the soldiers, so I could spend what little time I had left with Frano. I didn’t want to leave him, and I most certainly didn’t want to face the nightmare from my past: Christo Donatelli.

  My focus moved to Frano. He was lying in bed, reading a book, looking content. But he wouldn’t be content tomorrow, after he’d found out I’d taken off. Life was so fucking unfair. I’d finally gotten him back, then Christo was going to rip me away from him. I gritted my teeth, knowing I had to outsmart Christo—or die, because there was no way I was going to be kept from Frano again.

  But no matter what, I was going to make the most of my last hours with the man I loved.

  I walked around the bed and slipped under the bed covers. He didn’t stir, just kept on reading, his frown telling me he was totally wrapped up in the story. I stared at his lovely face, committing it to memory, never wanting to forget about him ever again.

  He turned his head to look at me. “What?”

  “Just drinking in your handsome face.”

  He grinned. “It is very handsome, isn’t it?”

  I laughed. “You are so modest.”

  “Indeed.” He looked back at his book.

  I snatched it out of his hands.

  “Eh!” He scowled at me. “Give it back!”

  I hid it under my ass. “Nope,” I said, grinning at him.

  He grabbed me around the waist and yanked me to him, slipping the book out from under me. He then threw it across the room and pushed me onto my front. “You’re going to pay for distracting me,” he growled. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

  I tried to turn around, pretending to fight him, but instead burst out laughing.

  He froze. “Why the hell are you laughing at me?” he said, looking surprised.

  “What you said was corny.”

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  I snorted out another laugh.

  “Stop laughing at me!”

  More laughter broke free, his annoyance cracking me up.

  He planted his arm across my shoulders, holding me down hard. “Well, you won’t be laughing soon.” He prodded my pussy with his cock, then thrust inside of me, making me scream, Frano not having warmed me up. It hurt like fuck, but fuck, it also felt great, exactly what I wanted.

  He started plowing into me, replacing my laughter with groans. I pushed a hand underneath my pussy, putting extra pressure on my clit as he continued to fuck me. The phone started ringing. We both ignored it, the need to come building up with each thrust of his cock and prod of my fingers. He lay down on me, plastering my back with his body, his face right next to mine. Slowing down his thrusts, he sought my mouth. I turned my head to him, getting lost in his kisses, time no longer a factor—Frano all consuming.

  He stopped kissing me and placed his hands on the headboard. He started fucking me hard again, banging the headboard against the wall, the bed creaking along with it. I pushed my ass back at him, meeting each thrust with enthusiasm. It set him off, his cock exploding inside of me. He groaned; the sound a deep rumble in his chest.

  After several seconds, he pulled out and spun me onto my back. He lowered himself down my body, using his fingers to get me off. I cried out, my man always knowing how to bring me to completion.

  The phone started ringing again. He grumbled something, then snatched it off the bedside cabinet, snapping, “Pronto!” into it, obviously annoyed we’d been interrupted. He went rigid. “What?” He pushed a hand through his hair, his expression upset. “I’ll call Pedro now.” He hung up and started dialing.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, pushing up onto my elbows, my mind still hazy from sex.

  “Alessandro and Andriena didn’t make it to the Santini compound. Bianca was found unconscious and with her clothes ripped and dirtied.” He returned his attention to the phone, yelling at Pedro through the line, “You promised Alessandro and the women free passage!” He went quiet, a frown creasing his brow. “Then why were they attacked?” He waited a few seconds, listening to the reply. “Mi dispiace,” he apologized. “Of course it wouldn’t have been you. I was just taken off guard; I should’ve thought of the Donatelli scum. Again, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have accused you. You are a man of your word.” He hung up and pushed out of bed.

  “What are you going to do?” I asked.

  He grabbed his robe. “I’m going to use Camila to get Alessandro back.”

  “I don’t think it’ll work.”

  He stopped doing up his belt. “Why?”

  “Because Christo must’ve known his nieces were here when he killed Pedro’s daughters, which means he doesn’t care about their safety.”

  “He might not have known.”

  “I think he did. I caught Camila phoning him. She hates her uncle with a passion, even asked me to kill him for her.”

  “What did you say?”

  “We’re under house arrest. What do you think I said?”

  He breathed out. “I will still try to swap Camila for Alessandro.”

  “She won’t want to go, she wants you and Jagger.”

  He snorted. “She doesn’t have a choice, and that troia doesn’t want me, she wants my status—which she won’t get. Anyway, I have to go talk to her.”

  As soon as he’d left the room, I went into the bathroom and swiped some of his shaving blades. I stuck them to a role of Cellotape, which I hid under the mattress with Camila’s knife. After a quick shower, I got back into bed, waiting for Frano to return. An hour later, he walked through the bedroom door, looking grumpy as hell.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  He pulled off his robe and slipped under the covers. “Camila couldn’t get through to Christo for a while, and when she did, he told her that it was none of our business and that the talks were only between the Santini and him. So I snatched the phone off her and threatened her life. He laughed at me, then hung up. I hate that fucker.”

  “Me too.”

  His expression dropped. “Mi dispiace.”

  I frowned. “Why are you sorry?”

  “For bringing him up.” He took a hold of my hands. “And don’t worry; I’ll make him pay for what he did to you.”

  I nodded, knowing he might just have to if Christo killed me.

  He kissed the back of my hands. “I promise.”

  I pulled them free and cupped his face, putting all my love and passion into the kiss. I then rolled on top of him, wanting to make love to him one last time.

  No. I would survive.

  I was going to come back and make love to Frano for the rest of our lives, because by the end of the week—my ni
ghtmare was going to end.

  Episode 12

  Coming Soon

  About the Author

  Marita A. Hansen is from New Zealand. She loves writing, creating art, watching and participating in football, and running. She ran her first marathon in 2012 and is now planning on completing many more. For more information on Marita check out these links:

  Author Facebook Page:

  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Marita-A-Hansen/113130742120676

  My Masters’ Nightmare Facebook Page:

  https://www.facebook.com/pages/My-Masters-Nightmare/167338690126962

  Blog Site:

  http://maritaahansen.blogspot.co.nz/

  Artslant Page:

  http://www.artslant.com/global/artists/show/74433-marita-hansen

  Twitter Name: @MaritaAHansen

  Other books by Marita A. Hansen

  Behind the Hood

  Graffiti Heaven

  Behind the Tears

  Behind the Lens

  Don’t Peek (The Diaries of a Teenage Girl)

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episode 1 “Taken”

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episode 2 “Discovered”

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episode 3 “Betrayed”

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episode 4 “Poisoned”

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episode 5 “Escape”

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episode 1-5 (The My Masters’ Nightmare Collection)

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episode 6 “Consequences”

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episode 7 “Connections”

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episode 8 “Questions”

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episode 9 “Crucified”

 

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