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“Angelo would not like it if I fucked you.”
“No… he wouldn’t.”
“But I think you would,” Bobby flashes a smile which promises all kinds of unholy things.
I don’t know if I would. I don’t know what to think. My stomach is in knots, and my lower belly is tight and…
“What are you doing, Bobby?”
I’ve never been so relieved and simultaneously disappointed to be interrupted. Mark turns the main lights on, flooding the room and making whatever moment was happening flee with the shadows under the bookcases.
“Nothing,” Bobby says, taking half a step back from me. “Don’t worry, your precious princess is still safe, Mark.”
“She better be. Angelo will skin you if you hurt her.”
“Angelo will, or you will?”
“Both of us.”
“Bye, princess,” Bobby winks as Mark ushers me out of his presence. I feel another one of those dark tremors running through me. There was intention in his eyes, and in his lips. Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe I think he’s hot.
“Are you alright?” Mark is concerned. He’s fatherly, in a way. A way my own father certainly never was. The moment he laid eyes on me, he designated me as someone to protect. It’s sweet. Sweetness is the last thing I expected to encounter here.
“He really didn’t do anything,” I assure Mark.
“Good. I’m sorry. I should have made sure you were still with Angelo.”
Mark cares about me, though I’m not sure if he cares about me, exactly, or if I’ve just become the focus for all his good and sweet impulses. There’s nothing innocent in Angelo’s world. But he thinks I’m innocent.
“I put a movie on in my room. Care to watch with me?”
I feel sorry for Mark. I don’t think he wants to sleep with me. He just wants companionship outside the madness of his lovers. He deserves better than this place, and these people. He deserves better than me.
“Sure,” I tell him. “I’ll watch a movie.”
Chapter 17
Days later…
It’s the middle of the night, and suddenly I’m wide awake. I went to bed alone, but I am not waking up alone. There’s somebody in the room with me. Someone lurking near my bed.
I try to scream, but before a sound can emerge, a hand is slapped over my mouth.
“Shhh. It’s me.”
It’s Bobby. That does not make me feel any better. The last time I saw Bobby, he was looking at me the way, well, the way any number of predators look at prey.
Is this how it ends? In the dark of night, silently in my bed, nobody to save me?
His hand loosens.
“What are…”
“Be quiet,” he whispers.
“What…”
“We’re going to have sex.”
“Are we?”
“I think we should. Angelo would hate it.”
“Is that a reason to have sex?”
“Maybe not,” he says. “But this is.”
He kisses me roughly, and passionately, he kisses me so deep I can taste his darkness. In the darkness of my bedchamber, he’s a force of nature, a demon incarnate, drawing my disobedient desires out of me with every twist of his talented tongue. He cups my head in both his hands, keeping me still for his surprisingly talented oral ravishment until finally he lets me go, and I fall back, panting with breathless desire.
“Wow,” I whisper.
“I want to fuck you,” he growls against my lips, before bowing his head and running his mouth along the side of my neck, kissing and nibbling until I throw my head back and submit to the sensations he is creating inside me.
This is wrong.
Is this wrong?
His big hand is sliding between my thighs, running up the length of my sensitive skin. His fingers stop just short of my pussy, the very tips of them brushing against the fabric of my underwear. I would never have thought Bobby sophisticated enough to tease and seduce, but that is what he is doing.
“We’re going to get in trouble,” I whisper.
“I know,” he whispers back, his grin broad and shining in the darkness of the night. I can tell he lives for this, that he is enjoying the rebellion of our connection as much as he is touching me.
He moves his hand forward just a fraction, and I let out a gasp as he starts to rub the gusset of my silken panties against my slit, back and forth until he finds the hidden button between my netherlips and then he focuses the little circles there, round and round until I am clinging to him, panting with soft desire. He is making me so very wet with this handling which leaves me weak.
“It feels good to be bad, doesn’t it, Tilly. You’re not such an innocent little thing after all. You won’t be when I’m finished with you.”
To emphasize the point, he presses his finger against the slick material between my lips almost entering my pussy, pushing the material inside me a little ways before letting it spring free again, tight over my sex.
