The invitation entices, and I cannot tell her no. I untuck myself from beneath the leather, and I feel her lips surround me. Sucking my erection inside of her voracious mouth, she uses her lips as a sheath without hesitation. She doesn’t toy or play, getting down to business—the business of sucking my cock. My fingers twist in her gorgeous curls, but they're sticky and crunchy from too much product. But it doesn't matter. All that counts is the tip of my dick is in the back of her throat, and we’re rocking away into the oblivion. The place I want to go. I must go to find the salvation I need.
She's crazy on these blowjobs. She takes it all deliberately and without shame as tears spring to her eyes, smudging her make-up. Slobber and pre-cum drip from her mouth. It's a spectacle, and I can't say it doesn't turn me on. I’m a bastard to admit this, but I like it messy. I like it dirty. And I love women filthy as fuck.
She is swallowing my rod like I'm the best thing ever, and I’m taking full advantage of it. Bucking my hips, I transport to a higher plateau where nothing matters. And Georgia, of all people, is my escort as she downs every inch of me. I never believed I could get so lost in one tiny little fragment.
If there were an award for the best blow job, George Wills would win. She doesn't stop and start back up or need to talk. She goes for it like a man with one goal in mind—my blissful ecstasy.
She pushes closer to the edge, speeding up and tightening down. I know I'm going to come soon. But she isn't asking for anything more. All she wants is this moment with my dick in her mouth. If she wants my come on her tongue, I’m about to give her that.
She cups my balls and her finger slips back to my ass. It's a dangerous place back there. I should come with a warning sign—you touch me there, I explode like a savage. The magic takes over as I involuntarily start thrusting between her taut lips. I want her to take it all—me and my cock. And when I finally spit, she does.
Panting and sweating, she says, “Holy gee…”
I want to smirk, but I can’t. So, I lift a finger for her to wait as I recover. Finally, I say, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s quite alright. I needed to talk to you,” she says, picking up where we left off like I didn’t just come like a damn madman in the back of her throat. “You know you asked me to do some research on Kaci’s connections, and I wanted you to know this popped up,” she mutters, eying my cock. “… On the Chicago Project.”
My initial embarrassment shifts to a serious, calculated tone. “Iris?”
“Yeah,” she says, handing the printout of phone records to me. “This is so much bigger than you first thought. They didn’t just know one another. Kaci and Iris are at the very least close friends.”
“Is this her…”
“That number,” she says, pointing to the one on the left. “Is Kaci’s agent line. That’s why they are all the same.”
“And this side, which if you will notice all match as well, is Iris’ number, but not listed under her or her husband.”
With a stunned gaze, I ask the obvious, “Did you run the records?”
“Yeah, the number is actually owned under the guise of a conglomerate funded by none other than…”
My heart skips a beat as my eyes close. “Don’t say it, please.” Though weak by Kaci’s display of affection for Jack Kerris in the cabaret, I’ve been completely knocked out by what I’m speculating. “Are you sure?”
“Sal,” she gently says, scooting up her chair like she is preparing for me to hit the floor. “Cesario Raniero owns the front.”
The weight upon my chest is like a mountain as my mind attempts to play catch up. “… My wife and my dad…”
“Are in some way working together, but I have few details yet,” Georgia comforts with a sincerity. “I’m still researching, but at the very least I can tell you Iris Kettles has a connection with the Raniero family. I think it comes in the form of this,” she says, handing the birth certificate to me. My mouth drops open as I attempt to dodge the unexpected curveball.
“Tennessee played me.”
Breaking away, I back up, no longer caring if Georgia is getting an eyeful or if Jack and Kaci are in the middle of a heavy session. The knowledge vibrates through my soul as I know my dad is involved in some way with my biggest secret—Iris Kettles and my partner—Jaid Chambers.
The fallout is so much broader in scope than it appears. If he knows about Iris—he will use her—to get to me because he will not stop until I’m playing the role of good prince mafioso and sitting by his side. I’m his only son. I’m the heir to his throne. And it is apparent; his reach knows no bounds.
I refuse to come out of hiding. Not that my dad doesn’t know where I am, in fact, quite the opposite. But he won’t set foot in Texas for one reason—it is out of his jurisdiction on the criminal map. I may be safe here, but if he dares to cross the border, one man will hunt him down.
One very sick, twisted, son of a bitch. One very brutal monster. One—Delarte Cristos.
And he just so happens to be Jaid’s Daddy.
In the middle of the dungeon, Sal built for me, Strapped to the bed, I'm not waiting on my husband. I'm waiting on my Dominant—my one original teacher. I understand he doesn't see it that way. Sal thinks the title of husband automatically makes him my Dominant, and while it should work that way, it doesn't work with me.
Jack will always be my Sir.
“There are one million reasons you shouldn't be here, Kaci,” Jack says with a smirk from the cabinet.
I dart my gaze to him. “And one reason I should.”
His sigh fills the space, a giant bubble, buffering with protection like an airbag. He is in the mood to fight with me—or teach me something. “You're playing roulette with his heart.”
“Not intentionally,” I fire back.
“He won't see it that way,” Jack replies.
Pulling against the tethers, I argue, “I have a limited number of days left. And I want to spend one night with my Master in this room.”
“I realize that, but in doing this—you are creating a train wreck. You will ghost from the mass destruction, but not everyone gets that privilege. Sal has to stay in the carnage and debris. He’ll stand in shock for days, months, hell maybe even years until he can figure out how to clean it all up,” Jack mutters, locking his fingers together. “I don't know if we can get him to boomerang back or not.”
With a fixed stare, I point out, “… You act like this is going to destroy him.”
“You don't seem to think it will, but I think you're wrong,” he says with growing irritation. “But what does it matter? You’ll be dead; you don’t get to know.”
The surprise attack catches me off guard as I think I need my own airbag. “You think I'm selfish?”
Pacing in front of the cabinet, he snickers, “Correction, I think you're being selfish. I know you're being a bitch.”
“That's not a nice thing to say when someone is dying.”
“You think I fucking care, Kaci?” Jack spews, raking my ass over the coals. “You don't get to use that as an excuse for everything you do wrong.”
With a huff, I sass, “What do you want me to do? Call Sal and have him come in here?”
His harsh body language spares no punches. “It’d be a start.”
“I don't know if I can do that.”
He quickly rebukes, “Because it's just too much for you to bear…”
“No,” I declare as the emotions bubble to the surface. “Because Sal's the man I created. I wanted him perfect. I built him. I lured him to Juliet. I had him trained properly. I sent him off to be an assassin. He's fucking perfect, and I'm dying. If you don't understand the pain that comes with that equation, I can't fucking help you.”
Jack bridges the distance between us and skims his fingers over my bare leg. “Maybe you need to rethink your math problem.”
“I was never very good at numbers.”
“You're destroying him,” he fires one direct hit. “So, let me help you. Sal will b
e destroyed. He wants to make you proud more than anything in the world. If you take that away from him, I'll never forgive you.”
“You won't have a scene with me…”
“I can't,” he whispers, gripping my fingers. “If I do this with you tonight, Kaci, I may not walk off the train. I'm going to have to watch Sal try and recover from all of this. If you don't think that's going to hurt me as much as it hurts you, you're wrong.”
Holding back the tears, I mumble out, “I hate this.”
“Yeah, I know you do. And I know it's not fair, but you have to think about how you’re leaving things. You have to understand, not only am I going to lose you, but your actions are risking losing him, too. And I don't wanna lose both of you.”
I close my eyes, refusing to let the tears emerge. “… Can you find him?”
“I can call him and get him here, but you have to be willing to let your emotions out. You have to be willing to share and show yourself and be vulnerable and trust him,” he says, lowering to my face. “Sal has you, Kaci.”
“I love you,” I say.
“I know you love me, and I love you, but I'm not your Master.”
A smile erupts on my face from the nerves as I continue to suppress the truth. “Did you bring me here just to tie me up and bring him here for me?”
“It is my job as your Dominant to be your teacher first. And I will keep teaching until your last breath to make you better. If that means tricking you into coming to a dungeon, so I can tie your ass up and leave you for Sal, I'm going to do that.”
“You’re a real fucker sometimes, Kerris.”
He grins. “You wouldn't want me another way, babydoll.”
“He's going to be a monster,” I admit, realizing the magnitude of the man I created.
“That’s a given…”
“And if we fall apart?”
“There's no way you're going to fall apart,” he assures, pulling his phone from his pocket. “He's too good. You give him the slightest crack, and he will inch his way into your heart and never get out.”
“He already is, but pushing him away is so much easier,” I excuse, knowing how foolish I sound. “Why do you have such faith in him?”
“We picked and crafted him for a reason.”
I nod. “Sal was the ideal candidate,” I concede, “Do you think he will forgive me for my stupidity?”
“I don’t think he has a choice.”
I sigh as the answer enlightens. I accept the responsibility for my behavior, enabling this quandary, but I close my eyes as the reality of my actions hit home. “I’ve brought Sal to a place of zero choice.”
5. Heart of the Matter
Sunday, December 12
20 days before…
I got the call from Kerris as I stumbled out of the main offices of Juliet. Kaci is in our dungeon. The problem isn’t topping her, but knowing if we have come to a place without training wheels – the assistance of a lead Dom – we are getting nearer to the end at a rate faster than my brain can handle.
Even without the health struggles of my wife, I’m overwhelmed by the knowledge that my father is somehow involved with Iris and Kaci. I’m not sure how to handle it or what to say. I was contracted under the table by Iris’ husband – Chance Ballister – to keep an eye on her when I went for training at Sibyl. He believes she is in danger. I theorize maybe he is the danger. He showed up as a Janitor in my cell one day, dropped her files on my desk, and my fascination ignited with one spark. I’ve been watching her for months.
I don’t trust anyone as the secrets display out like a puzzle. Pieces are missing, and it is my job to find them. Keep working and cracking down on the trafficking when we can. It’s not easy to juggle, but I’m doing it. The new intel on my father is disturbing because I know better than anyone the lengths he will go to have me beside him.
Kaci chose my ass because she wanted to play with the big boys. Her dream of taking down the serious players of the game was snuffed out by a test. It wasn’t fair, and I understood why she was so angry. She wanted more than anything to save women and children from being used as slaves, yet she is willing to admit her dependency on the dynamic.
But a word exists that differentiates the two with such a sufficient clarity. It is undeniable—consent. And consent proves what we do at Juliet is acceptable—but at the hands of men like my father—it is criminal. While I know he has been involved in prostitution and porn, the idea of him trafficking contaminates my blood as I acknowledge I’m his son.
I would never.
But he would—for power and money.
He’s been lucky to evade the law with strategic payouts for years. He loves blackmail and uses it like most people use a toothbrush. It’s disgusting. I’m always reminded of why I’m here dealing with this shit with Kaci. I’m running with a focused determination from a life I do not want.
If Cesario has connections to Iris and Kaci, then he must also be aware of my new status. I didn’t bother to update anyone. I keep my job low and don’t share except with those in the loop. I’m many things, but a snitch isn’t one of them.
Busting into the door of our dungeon, I see my bride, waiting and willing for a session with my Dominant, but I’m not in the mood—yet. “You’re dying.”
Her eyes roll as she says, “If this is your grand gesture, you are failing already.”
“We only have so much time left,” I implore as I move to the end of the bed and wrap my fingers around the frame. “I need complete and total honesty from you. No more lies. No more betrayal. No more deceit. You play for one—me. And if you cannot do that, I walk, right fucking now. So, what is it going to be?”
“Since you are acting all big and bossy, I’ll grant you three questions.” I spin away quick, but before I can take a step, I hear, “… Wait.”
“Are you ready to trust me?” My demanding tone echoes through the room, and I can tell by her reaction how she never expected this new and improved me to show up. “I need complete transparency with us—in the dungeon and with Sibyl. And I need it fucking now.”
“Three questions and you give me a scene to remember,” she bargains with a serious, almost stern look. “You want answers; I need a Dominant to carry me to the end. If you want to be the one, prove it.”
“I already have.”
She giggles and shakes her head. “Not like you are fully capable. You keep giving me a watered down, edited version. I want unfiltered and X-rated. I need to see how well I have trained you because if I have fucked up, I need to correct it before I expire.”
“Fine,” I say, pulling out a smoke and lighting it. I exhale a giant cloud of nicotine over her body as my jaw clenches repeatedly. I’m pissed. I never imagined playing with my wife. She has a hell of a poker face, but I won’t fall prey on my feelings of love for one reason alone. After she dies, I will still be here. I need all of the intel in her mind to be mine to survive. And with that, I suppose her negotiation is fair. She yearns to soar to the sky with a Master in her mind. “Explain the connection to my father.”
“I came across you by accident at fourteen.”
“I don’t want my history. I know my fucking history, Kace.”
She sighs with an irritation. “Will you shut the fuck up for once and listen? I mean really listen, Raniero. Stop being some know-it-all, hot young thang, and give me a damn minute!”
I puff the cigarette and stare at her with a fury. “Go…”
“I was researching the big crime bosses, and I came across you by accident. You were the only boy, and I knew what that meant. You were supposed to take the whole Eastern Seaboard over from your father. He had the money, the men, and the means. I watched him grow, doubling every year. At the same time all that was going on, I found Iris. She wasn’t from a crime family, but a broken family. Even though her parents were still together, her mother was having an affair with the Chicago king.”
“… Angelo Gennaro.”
“Yes.”
“Dominic’s father,” I mutter, moving to take a seat on the bed.
“The one and only. He was screwing Lydia Kettles, Iris’ mother, and all the while grooming Iris to be some sort of…” she pauses, searching for the words. “Tension relief specialist…if you get my drift.”
I snicker and breathe. “Angelo was grooming Iris to be an informant using sex.”
“You got it,” she says with excitement. “I felt sorry not only for you but for her. So, I reached out in both directions and did what I could without blowing my cover.”
“You got me here,” I point out. “But what did you do with Iris?”
“Gennaro had her working Chance Ballister because he wanted a hand in the society.”
“Of Sibyl?”
“Yes,” she replies, stroking my arm. “And he wanted her working on forging a relationship with the Raniero clan.”
“Please tell me she hasn’t fucked my dad.”
“No, but she has managed to get close enough for trust to form. You have to understand one thing, Sal. She’s as good as you are, even if she doesn’t approach things like you do.”
I rub my lips together as I contemplate the game. “Iris is in danger.”
“That’s nothing new.”
“My dad finds out she’s a goddamned spy for the opposing team and he will have no trouble slitting her pretty little throat.”
“That’s where Cristos comes in,” she confides.
“I was going to ask.”
She smiles. “I know you were. I have Cristos’ goons watching her ass.”
The thing about these Gods of atrocity is none is any better than the other. And swapping one for another is just another list of unreasonable demands. They are bullies and showmen who like to one-up each other. “But do you trust Cristos?”
“It doesn’t matter if I do or not, Cristos’ expanse is bigger than both of them combined. He’s got worldwide connections.”
“Why did you never tell me Cristos was Jaid’s daddy?”
Her eyes impart a devious gaze. “Why would I give you all the pieces? I wanted to see how well you could research on your own. I figured if you could unravel out Jaid’s parental lineage, we were going places.”
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