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“You fucked up everything, Pet.” I grab her hip and slam balls deep inside her, making her scream almost immediately.
I barely thrust into her tight cunt and she’s coming around me, choking me, keeping me where I always belonged.
Squeezing her throat, I ram inside her with all the possessiveness and the hate and these screwed up feelings I have for this girl. “You’re a filthy slut, Georgina. A filthy fucking slut.”
“N-not Georgina,” she sobs, tears falling down her cheeks as she chases the wave. “Don’t call me that.”
“You left.” I slap her ass cheek while ramming my cock inside her. “You fucking left.”
“I’m sorry.” She cries through the tears. “I’m so sorry.”
I come then. Spurts of my cum coat her insides, then trickle down her thighs.
Our chests are rising and falling harshly as she pulls me down and kisses me through her tears and sobs. She kisses me like we were never apart. She kisses me like she won’t live on if she doesn’t do that.
“I missed you, Jas,” she whispers against my mouth.
I wrench myself from her, releasing her throat and coming out of her.
In a second, I’m slipping back into my boxers and trousers.
“Jas…” she calls after me.
I chance a look behind me. She’s still splayed on the bed, but she pulled herself on her elbows. Her nightgown is torn, her tits hanging and my cum streaks down her thighs as she rubs them together as if keeping the feeling of me inside her.
“Stay. No one comes here at night.”
There’s nothing else I want other than to stay the night, to hold her to sleep, to kiss her fucking lips until I get drunk on them.
But I can’t.
Not only because I’ll get caught, but also because whenever I see her face, I feel a deep sense of betrayal.
She fucking left.
Without a word, I throw my shirt and jacket over my shoulder and head outside.
Her soft cries follow me, but I grit my teeth and jump down.
Maybe now, she’ll feel what it means to be fucking stranded.18GeorginaIt’s been days since Jasper showed up again.
Days since he held me down and fucked me.
Days since he left.
He left again and this time I have no way to stop him.
Or find him.
I’ve pretended to leave the balcony door open every night. I’ve tossed and turned in bed, watching the curtains flapping inside and hoping against hope that he’ll show up.
He didn’t.
To say I missed him would be an understatement. Ever since I left Sicily, it’s been the only thing I’ve been thinking about.
He’s the only thing I’ve been thinking about.
After I settled down with Dad, I spent days and weeks getting used to this new life. When I told him I wanted to work again, he said it was dangerous for me in the outside world.
All that time Dad has spent showing me around his property and his restaurants and everything he owns — which happens to be a lot; I couldn’t stop thinking about Jasper.
If he’s okay, if he went back to Sicily or maybe if he’s mad that I disappeared.
I expected him to come to find me sooner, and when he didn’t, I was both relieved and disappointed. It’s not that I want to leave Dad, but I thought that since Jasper didn’t hurt him, we could maybe talk?
How naive could I be to think Jasper and I could talk? He might not have hurt Dad until now, but maybe he would in the future. Maybe he’ll come back to me just so he can use me against my father.
I’m a Costa and he’s a Vitallio.
There’s nothing that can erase those facts.
Still, like every morning, I touch the collar, as if making sure it’s there and to get a feel of Jasper.
Dad asked me what it was and I told him it’s a necklace. And it is — the most precious necklace I could’ve ever gotten.
It’s a reminder of what I share with Jasper and no one gets to take that away.
I go downstairs for my daily walk with Dad in the garden. He has a bad cough and the fresh air helps him clear his lungs. Usually, he’d tell me all sorts of things about Mom and how much he wanted to protect her and me; that’s why he kept us away from this life.
He lost all contact with me when Sarah, the woman who got me into the boys’ boarding school, took me away and he couldn’t locate us.
Dad was looking for a boy but soon after that boarding school, I turned back into a girl and Sarah was good at covering my tracks. She was Mom’s best friend and made it her mission to protect me from the life that killed my mom.
When I asked if I could meet and thank her, Dad said she was found dead. The grief I felt for her reopened the grief I still feel for my mom.
