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“No! Fuck, stop! It’s drugs! We’re giving him drugs!”
Just for kicks, I slice a little bit of his calf, just next to the tendon. Bonito screams, although I didn’t even cut that deeply.
“Fuck, I’m telling you!” Bonito screams. “Back the fuck off!”
“Are you really in a position to demand that?” I ask in amusement. I’m actually a bit disappointed at how little blood I’ve drawn, so I add another slice to the first, forming a pretty V. Before Victor gets any ideas, I finish it off with another line to create an “A”.
I could lose myself in this, the screams, the way Bonito is struggling, the blood welling up from his wounds. I smear the blood across his skin, then palm myself through my jeans. Yeah, I’m hard, and it’s really, really a shame that Bonito looks like he got run over by a truck. If he were pretty like Lucia or even Saint…
“Before you traumatize him too much...” Victor says. I look up at him, and I notice that his hand has slipped between Lucia’s legs. She’s squirming and glaring at Victor. “Why is Alfonso Ricci in town?”
Bonito lets out a bitter, harsh bark of laughter. “Well, we thought you might be a threat, but if you can’t even work that out on your own…”
“No, I simply wondered if there was a secondary reason. But if there isn’t, I don’t need you anymore.” Victor nods at me. “Kill him.”
My hand slides from where I’ve been palming my cock, down until I can bury my fingers in his hair and jerk his head up at an uncomfortable angle. “Well? You heard the man. Guess this is it for you.”
“You don’t need to fucking kill him,” Lucia protests, grabbing Victor’s wrist and trying to push his hand away. “He told you what you needed to know. Do you really want to provoke my father even more by killing one of his men?”
“Yes,” Victor answers flatly. His hand doesn’t budge. “I didn’t kidnap his daughter because I wanted a nice, amicable relationship between us.”
“Nice and tidy, or do you want me to have some fun with it?” I ask, smirking. I can’t deny the bloodlust racing through me, nearly challenging Victor to get in the way of letting me have my fun.
And watch the horror and terror rise on Lucia’s face.
I want to see her cry.
“Do whatever you want.”
“No!” Lucia shouts, hitting Victor’s arm. He doesn’t even flinch.
I ignore her and drive my knife into Bonito’s leg without warning. Bonito yells and spasms. When I pull the knife out, the blood gushes out, splashing my hand. The smell fills the air, that delicious, familiar coppery scent. My cock throbs in anticipation.
In the background, I can hear Lucia fighting with Victor, but against the sounds of Bonito’s cries, I can’t make much of it out—and I don’t care. She’ll be there when I’m done, when I’m ready to play with her.
Because Iwillplay with her when this is all over with, all while her father’s associate bleeds out onto the carpet.
With his limbs bound the way they are, Bonito’s movements are comical in their uselessness. I place my knife on the back of his knees and laugh at him when he freezes. “I think this one’s going to hurt,” I tell him.
“Angelo! Jesus, stop it!” Lucia screams, catching my attention for the first time.
“What, Princess? I thought you were okay with a little blood being spilled.” She certainly hadn’t flinched when we’d cut off Freddie’s finger. “Close your eyes if you don’t want to watch.”
“No,” Victor cuts in smoothly. “She’ll watch. Won’t you, Lucia? He’s dying. It’s the least you can do. Watch him in his final moments. Memorialize them in the only way he’ll ever have.”
“Fuck you,” she snarls at Victor, and that’s when I realize she’s impaled on his fingers. He has them pushed deep inside of her, and he’s holding her still with his grasp on her cunt.
It’s enough to make me gape, and Victor so rarely surprises me. He catches my gaze and smirks, ignoring Lucia’s futile attempts at trying to get away from his questing fingers.
I wonder if she’s wet, if it was a smooth glide or if he had to force his way in dry. Another wave of arousal hits me, and I’m tempted to simply kill Bonito and take Lucia immediately.
It’ll be better if I take my time, though. The chance for this kind of unchecked, fatal violence doesn’t often come up. I turn my attention back to Bonito and slice across the back of his knees. His screams fill the room, and I bet even all the soundproofing we’ve done around here won’t block all of it.
It’s fine. Screams aren’t uncommon here.
I place my hand over the new wound, letting the warm blood flow over me. It keeps going and going, drenching me. I lift my hand to lick my fingers, licking my lips slowly for Lucia’s benefit.
Her face has gone pale, but she’s transfixed, her gaze firmly focused on my bloody fingers. I can’t tell what she’s thinking, so I lick them again, even more slowly this time.
