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Probably.
It depends how much she tries to fight me. There’s a fading red handprint on her ass, courtesy of Cassius. Fuck, she’s got a cute little body. The sight of her and the scent of her fear is making me hard.
I grasp her G-string, slice through the straps and pull it free while Chiara chokes out a protest.
“What do we have here?” I murmur, holding the scraps of her underwear aloft and examining them in the dim light. There’s a dark, wet spot where the fabric has been nestled against her pussy.
I show her the underwear, my thumb moving over the slippery patch, and put my lips close to her ear. “Is that for me? Or for one of the others? Who turned you into a slippery mess while you were pretending to be a sheltered, naïve Catholic girl who’s soscared, soconfusedby all these bad men?”
“Please, don’t,” she whimpers, shaking her head, her face creasing like she’s going to cry.
Oh, please cry. Making horny girls cry is my favorite thing.
“Do you like bad men, Chiara? Was it me who made you wet? Please say it was me.” I run my tongue up the shell of her ear, and she shivers against me. That ass of hers rubbing against my cock nearly sends me over the edge. I have only a tenuous grasp on control, and she’s about to shatter it. I press the flat of the knife under her chin and growl, “Wriggle like that again and I’ll fuck you right now while everyone in this house listens to you scream.”
Chiara pants softly, her whole body rigid as she tries desperately to keep still.
I flip the knife in my hand and shove the hilt between her thighs. Her bare pussy is right there as I stroke the handle back and forth across her lips. So wet, so ready for me to shove it inside her.
“Or did you get wet for all of us? Is that what you want, Chiara, for us to line up and fuck you, one after another? I’ll go last. Do you think you’ll still be struggling by the time it’s my turn?”
Horrified, she squeezes her eyes shut. Bet she wishes now that she never asked me to speak.
“Why are you even here? You obviously hate me.”
Hate? To feel hate, you have to be able to love. I run my eyes down her quivering body. I like them innocent and trembling, but the innocent and trembling ones never want me.
“We’re not doing it to you, idiot. We’re doing it to him.”
“My father? But aren’t you all friends?”
“There aren’t friends in our world. There are only allies and enemies, and the two can switch places at a moment’s notice. The mayor wants us as allies, but we don’t like to be used, Chiara. He has to be taught a lesson, and it’s more fun for us making him suffer by making you suffer.”
“But...but he thinks you want to be allies,” she says in a small voice.
I laugh softly. “So you’re fucked, aren’t you? Think of it this way. It doesn’t matter what happens next. You were fucked the moment we stepped foot in this house.”
I put my lips against her ear as I speak softly, twisting the hilt of my knife against her pussy. “You’re getting your juices all over my knife, Chiara. When you go to school and confess to your priest, make sure you tell him what a very bad man did to you, and just how much you loved it.”
I grip the knife harder and increase the pressure, watching her eyes widen as the hilt just presses between her lips.
“Happy fucking birthday.”
6
Chiara
Lorenzo’s weight against my back and the knife hilt pressing on my bare privates vanish at the same time. The searing heat from his body lifts and I listen to his footsteps recede. I stay where I am, huddled against the wall. There’s ashhhksound, like a knife being shoved back into a holster.
Then silence.
Minutes pass, and I don’t dare move or open my eyes. I’m naked beneath my dress. Naked and—how did it happen?—wet. I see again my G-string in Lorenzo’s big hand with its tattooed fingers, his thumb rubbing slowly over the slippery patch. One of these tyrannical men turned me on while they were threatening and tricking me. But which one? Salvatore as he was putting diamonds around my throat and choking me? Vinicius with his smooth-talking trickery? Cassius with his indulgent concern and fiery threats? Or—please god, no—Lorenzo’s sadistic depravity? As I remember each man, I can’t discern any difference in my feelings toward them. Whatever crazy reaction my body had, I hate them all.
In the distance I hear a deep, nasty laugh. Lorenzo as he tells the others what he just did to me? What if they all come back and do what he threatened they would do?
One after another.
I push away from the wall and look desperately around. My hands are fastened painfully tight behind my back and every movement makes them burn. I’m totally defenseless. On my left is a staircase leading down to the kitchen. I head for them with a stifled sob, knowing that there’s safety at the bottom. People who love me. People who’ll protect me.
