"I missed you," she whimpers as I continue to massage her flesh. "I missed you today," she repeats, turning those big eyes towards me and fuck me if she doesn't look like a goddess fallen from the sky.
"Did you," I tsk at her, my other hand already moving down her body. "How much did you miss me, sunshine?" I rasp, so much violence inside of me threatening to burst through the surface.
"So much," she says on a half moan as I lift her nightgown, my fingers trailing over the surface of her barely covered pussy.
"Who did you wear these for, Gianna? Who did you want to have access to your pussy?" My voice is rough as I palm her mound, pressing the back of my hand over her clit and making her moan in reply.
"You," she breathes out. "Only you."
"Hmm."
The little liar.
Without any preliminaries, I tug her panties to the side, surprised to be met by her dripping lips.
Either she's mastered full control of her body, or she's horny for every fucking dick. The thought doesn't help as I slide two fingers between her folds, searching for her hole.
A sick thought forms inside of me, and I can't help but wonder if I'll find another man's cum inside of her. A deep and ugly jealousy rears its head at the idea, and I all but jam my fingers inside of her.
"Ah," she gasps, almost jumping in my arms as I push inside of her, feeling her velvety walls surround me—strangling my fucking fingers.
She's tight. Fuck but she's tight.
No wonder those fools would give their right arm to have their cocks slide inside this tight, warm heaven.
"Bass," her hands come to rest on my upper arms, her fingers digging in my skin as a strangled moan escapes her. "That... slower," she whispers, but I'm not about to give her slow. Not when this is the only thing keeping me from turning her around and taking her like an animal.
"Shh, sunshine," I coo, my breath fanning on her cheek. "I have you," you dirty little whore.
"It's too much," she opens her mouth to say something else but her eyes close, her spine arching as she seems to find her pleasure.
I thrust in and out of her, watching in fascination the ecstasy that appears on her face as she comes, even more juices dripping out of her.
She's limp against the door as I remove my hands from her person. She titters a little before her knees buckle, her breathing still harsh.
"Wow," she exclaims, her voice rough. "That was the most powerful orgasm I've ever had," she shakes her head, a small smile on her lips.
"Why don't you show me how grateful you are then, sunshine?" I say just as I unbuckle my belt.
She peers at me from beneath her lashes, and her innocent act is starting to grate on my nerves.
"Show me how you can be my dirty little slut," I tell her as I fist my cock in front of her.
"Your... dirty little slut?" She repeats, her cheeks flushed, her tone unsure.
"Yes," I smirk at her. "That's what you are, isn't it? My dirty little slut," I bring my other hand to her face, gripping her jaw and tilting her head so she can look at me, "my very own fuck toy," I continue, watching a small frown appear on her face. "Tell me, sunshine, aren't you hungry for my cock like the dirty little slut you are?"
For a second, I don't think she's going to reply. Not as she looks at me with those big eyes of hers that even now reek of contrived innocence. She's looking like she's never seen a dick before, much less sucked one.
"I..." she starts, still unsure.
"Tell me how much you want my cock between those lips," I slip my thumb between her lips, urging her to suck on it. "If you don't tell me, I won't give it to you." I smile at the outrage that crosses her features.
Of course, even deep in her acting she wouldn't miss on being a cock slut.
"I want to suck your cock," she finally says, but her voice isn't firm enough.
"And...?" I tease her, bringing my cock to her mouth and brushing the head against her lips, pulling back when she opens her mouth to take me inside.
She's watching me with confusion in her eyes—but oh, so much desire she could burn down a building with the fire in her gaze.
Licking her lips, she's watching my movements closely as I bring my thumb over the head of my cock, swiping some of the pre-cum and bringing it to her for a small taste.
"The words, sunshine, and this cock is yours."
I don't know why this one act makes me so fucking hard I'm about to burst. But there's something to be said about the way she's on her knees before me, forced to beg for my fucking cock. It's the high of being in control of her arousal and most importantly of myself. Because even with my dick so hard, cum straining in my balls to be released, I'm still not giving in and allowing her to put her mouth on me.
I'm not a slave to her.
It might be a small comfort, but it is one, nonetheless. Especially seeing how I haven't fucked or murdered her tonight. I'd say it's a big fucking achievement.
"I want to suck your cock," she says again, with more determination, "because I'm your dirty little slut," she smiles, almost proud of herself for saying it out loud.
"That's a good girl," I smirk at her, finally bringing my cock to her lips and allowing her to take me inside.
I let her play with me for a moment, her attempts clumsy but driving me crazy at the same time.
She'd never get an award for sucking cock, but her enthusiasm earns her bonus points.
When she's had her fun, I hold her hair in a tight grip, my fingers on her scalp as I thrust my dick all the way inside her mouth, instantly hitting the back of her throat and making her gag.
She's making choking sounds as spit dribbles down my length, her lips wrapped around the base of my cock in quite possibly the most beautiful sight I've ever seen.
I grip even tighter as I realize it's a sight everyone's probably seen.
The jealousy inside of me threatens to spill forward, and in turn I keep on thrusting inside her mouth, fucking my aggression on her, ignoring the way tears are running down her cheeks, her entire face a wet mess.
She keeps gasping for air and I keep feeding her my cock until I feel my balls contract, my shaft trembling with the force of my release. Drawing back slightly, I let her take a deep breath just as my cum hits the back of her throat, coating her entire mouth and tongue.
"Show me," I command her, grabbing her jaw and prying her lips open.
She blinks rapidly, but does as instructed, opening her mouth and thrusting out her tongue towards me.
Cum mixed with saliva drips down her chin as she keeps her tongue out on display.
I can't help the smile that forms on my face as I look at her, somehow wishing I could take a picture to immortalize the moment.
"Swallow," I give her the order, satisfied when she does, audibly gulping down all of my cum.
"You're such a good little slut, sunshine. You love being ordered around, don't you?" I ask as I tentatively caress her cheek.
She gives me a small nod, almost as if she's ashamed of it.
"Then how about this," I lean in to whisper. "I want you to crawl to your room and dream of me fucking every single one of your holes," I pause as I feel her whimper. "Because that's what's next on the menu, sunshine. My cock in every fucking hole."
I don't stick around to see her reaction as I get up and head inside the bathroom.
Ah, my dirty little slut, but this is just the beginning.
Chapter Sixteen
The engagement party is quickly approaching, and every time Clark comes to the house, I have to force myself to be in the same room as him.
"Oh, look what time it is," I give him a fake smile. "I need to head for a dress fitting," I say as I stand up.
Bass is by the door, his eyes not missing anything as usual.
He's the only reason I'm able to withstand Clark's visits. Him and the fact that our plans will soon materialize.
He's already told me that he's managed to find us new identities and the itinerary for our escape
is almost done.
"Not so easy," Clark drawls, and before I know it his hand is on my wrist, pulling me back.
Revulsion fills me as the acid in my stomach churns and churns, threatening to make me ill. Still, I keep my forced smile on, not wanting to show him how much his presence affects me.
"Not even a kiss for your fiancé?" He asks, his voice grating. But not more than the way he looks at me, his eyes dipping to my chest.
I pull at my hand.
"After the wedding," I say stiffly.
From the corner of my eye, I see Bass' stance and I know he's ready to act if things escalate.
Leaning down, Clark whispers in my ear. "You won't have your bodyguard forever, little girl." That appellation is somehow the worst as it reminds me what an old pervert he is, "and I can't wait to fuck you into submission when I have you alone."
My mouth drops open, but before I can act, he releases me, heading out the door.
"Are you ok?" Bass asks when he reaches my side.
I nod.
"He's just a dirty old man," I make a disgusted expression. Bass grunts, not offering a reply.
Raising my head to look at him, I take in his imposing frame and cold countenance. Not for the first time, I feel that there's something seriously wrong with him.
Ever since that night when I'd found him covered in blood, he's changed. His attitude towards me has changed. He's colder, more demanding, preferring to order me around instead of carrying a normal conversation.
And it worries me. Because I want to know what brought this one.
Who did he kill?
And why is he so mean to me?
He'd also been rather insistent that I tell him what happened at the event when I'd gotten drunk. I'd answered him honestly, that one minute I was having a great time, drinking in moderation, and the next I'd blacked out, only remembering snippets of the night—like him taking me home and taking care of me.
Maybe my behavior had worried him? Truthfully, even for me it had been odd, since I'm always careful about how much I drink and I pace myself while doing so. That I'd gotten so drunk had been a little disconcerting.
Regardless, I can't let that cloud my thoughts—not when I'm so close to finally be free.
Since being with Bass I've started seeing a new side of myself coming to the surface. Or maybe it's just an old side that has been suppressed for too long. But for the first time, I find myself daring to do a lot of things that would have sent me into overdrive in the past.
I've even started taking my pills less and less, now taking one only if I feel an incoming attack, but not preventively as I'd done in the past.
With this development comes a new type of freedom as I slowly start to feel more in control of my own body.
For the first time, there's hope.
Hope that I don't have to live in perpetual fear, hope that my body is once more my own.
And there's nothing more liberating than the act of giving myself to the man I love.
The more time we spend together, I become increasingly sure that soon I'll be able to take the last step—give myself completely to him. Every intimacy gives me new confidence.
A while ago I would have never imagined myself in this position. Hell, I could have never imagined myself letting someone touch me. But with Bass... I'm letting him do a lot more.
A whole lot more.
A blush envelops my features as I think of his mouth on my pussy, of his hand around my throat as he thrusts his fingers in and out of me...
With my past, I've never thought I'd enjoy being dominated like this—allowing him to subdue me as I give him full control over my body.
But there is only one reason for this.
Trust.
I trust him more than I've trusted anyone in my life. Lord, but I trust him with my life.
For someone who's been let down by everyone since birth, I've never thought I'd ever willingly put my life in someone's hands. Yes, I've had bodyguards over the years, and I'd even had a cordial relationship with Manuello, my previous one. But they had just done their job, while I'd kept my walls up, maintaining a distance between us perhaps even larger than that of an employer and employee.
Bass' arrival in my life, though, changed everything.
He showed me that I don't have to always be alone—lonely. It's ironic that for all my reputation as the queen bee, I've never known true confidence until he made me feel confident.
Confident to be myself, confident to be vulnerable, and confident to proudly wear my imperfections just as my imperfections.
"You're sure everything is set for Saturday?" I ask, needing to have the confirmation.
"Yes. I have our IDs and our travel route set. We leave immediately after the party," he nods at me before ignoring me once more.
I feel a little disheartened at his reaction, since it's not the first time he's come across as closed off. I have to wonder if maybe he's regretting his decision to elope with me. After all, he will be forced to leave his life behind as he knows it, and he will likely be unable to contact any friends or family or risk putting them in danger.
There's also the small matter of his feelings towards me. Sure, he's told me he cares about me, but that's not the same as love.
It's a whole lot different from love.
I should know since what I feel for him goes beyond mere caring. It's this deep need that gnaws at me, threatening to drive me crazy when he's not near. I feel like an addict binging on her favorite drug and wishing the supply would never stop.
It's an entirely foreign feeling, but one that's overtaken my entire being. There's no me without him anymore, and that's a sobering realization.
"Do you... regret it?" I make the courage to ask.
I pull backwards before flinging myself forward, the swing carrying me in the air with a whoosh. We'd relocated to the garden in an attempt to enjoy some of the nice weather, but Bass has continued to keep aloof, standing by me but somehow doing his best to ignore me.
"Regret what?" He asks, his tone clipped—like it usually is these days.
I stop, my feet propped on the ground as I look at him. Bringing my hand to shield my eyes from the sun, I take in his grave expression as he stares forward—as if he can't bring himself to even glance at me.
"Running away with me," I say, noting the slight clench of his jaw. "Leaving your life behind."
"Of course not," he replies. "After all, I'll have you, won't I?" he turns to me, his expression inscrutable.
I nod, reaching out to take his hand in mine. "You know you have me." I bring his hand to my cheek, closing my eyes and reveling in his nearness.
Just knowing he's by my side makes me want to confront all of my demons—make everyone who's ever hurt me pay.
"That's right, sunshine." His entire stance is stiff. "You're mine, aren't you? All mine."
"All yours," I reply, trying to meet his eyes with mine.
"Good. Good," he nods, but why is it that I don't believe him?
I shake myself. I shouldn't question my good fortune when it's been so hard to obtain it.
And because I've gained a new confidence in myself, I know exactly what I need to do.
I need to close that painful chapter from my life—once and for all.
"We need to apply more blush. You're looking a tad too pale, dear," the make-up artist adds as she dusts some of the powder on my face, focusing on my cheekbones and trying to add more definition to my features.
She is right. I am pale.
I'm beyond pale.
Because what I'm about to do will mar me forever. But before I can start a new life, I need to put the old one behind.
"Done. My God, but you look like a doll, Gianna. Your fiancé will not be able to take his eyes off you," she comments sweetly and I force a smile.
That's the goal, after all, for what I have in plan.
The make-up artist soon leaves, and I have some time to dress and get everything ready.
&nb
sp; I quickly put on the gown, fastening it in place. Then, making sure the door is locked, I lift my mattress up, looking for a bag with fine white powder—cyanide.
The quantity isn't much, but according to some sources, enough to kill a person.
Knowing time is of essence, I make sure I'm handling it properly as I take the powder from the small bag and place it on a sheet of paper.
Then, opening my jewelry case, I take out the antique ring I'd bought. From the outside, it looks like a regular ring, and wholly inoffensive.
A small mechanism on top of the ring and under the central stone opens an empty compartment. Historically used in assassinations, now it's all but a relic of the past and thus it ensures that people are never suspicious of a mere ring.
Propping open the lid of the ring, I fold the sheet of paper into a funnel, pouring the white powder inside and snapping it closed. Satisfied that it won't accidentally open, I quickly slide it on my finger.
A knock on the door startles me, and as I open it, I come face to face with Bass.
His eyes rove over my body, his gaze seemingly eating me up alive.
"Like what you see?" I trail my hand over his chest in a seductive attempt. It's hard to believe that a few more hours and we'll be able to leave everything behind.
"When do I not," he drawls, his hand on my jaw as he slips his thumb inside my mouth. I suck on it, hypnotized by his gaze that promises to do wicked things to me.
"A few more hours," I breathe out, the anticipation clear in my voice.
"Indeed," he purrs, his tone sending shivers down my back.
And as we take the car towards the venue, I can't help both fear and happiness from forming inside of me, like a knot waiting to be unraveled, the outcome of tonight's party and our escape the deciding factor.
"We'll talk later," I tell Bass, briefly kissing his cheek before we step out of the car. He grunts, not adding anything else, but I've already come to expect it from him. He's not exactly the most talkative person.
As we step inside the venue, the ballroom is to the right, taking over the half of the entire ground floor.
We'd visited it a couple of times before to approve everything. An old aristocratic manor, the entire location screams expensive. There are different rooms in the house, all put at the guests' disposal for entertainment and photoshoots.
Frivolous: A DARK MAFIA AGE-GAP ROMANCE Page 24