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Almost.
Angelo comes before I do, his cock pulsing in my mouth. I try desperately to swallow, but some of it slips out of the corners of my mouth and drips down my chin. I close my eyes and focus on Saint’s fingers, finally allowing myself to let go and moan as the pleasure overwhelms me, too.
I feel Angelo stroke my hair as he pulls out. More cum slips out. Saint helps rearrange me to sit on the chair while I’m still breathing heavily.
When I open my eyes, I’m looking directly at Victor.
He has his eyes closed, hands carefully folded across his stomach. There isn’t a hint of an erection in his slacks.
He looks like he could be taking a nap.
I don’t know why it affects me so strongly, but it fills me with rage. How can he want to use me so callously and toss me aside, to act like he wants me then make it clear he doesn’t at all? I shouldn’t care; I’ve already sworn I’m not going to let him touch me again. But his indifference in all of this bothers me more than I want to admit even to myself.
Victor finally opens his eyes, yawning as he does. “Are you done? I only paid the clerk to lock up and go away for an hour.”
Angelo swipes his thumb across my chin and coaxes me to open my mouth to take the rest of his cum. I lick it away, already trying to figure out how I’m going to fix my hair and makeup before the clerk gets back. Fuck. I got lost in them, again, and I don’t understand how it keeps on happening.
“Yeah, we’re done,” Angelo says, tucking his cock back in his pants.
Saint leans down to kiss me—despite how my lips must taste. “Wish we could cuddle for a bit.”
He starts stroking my jaw… with the hand holding the condom. I grimace, ready to tell him off, when something happens. I’m not sure if Angelo jostles him or if Saint is clumsy or if he does it on fucking purpose.
The condom falls from his hand and lands on my chest, spilling across my breasts and bra.
The sensation of cooling cum sends a wave of revulsion through me.
“Oops,” Saint says, although he doesn’t sound upset at all. “I guess you had to clean up anyway, since Angelo was already smeared all over you.”
The severity of the situation starts to settle in, and my anger at Victor starts to pool up until it’s directed at Saint, too. And Angelo, because why the hell not? They’re all in this together, no matter what they might claim.
“Oops?” I hiss. “Do you— Jesus Christ, Saint, are you trying to get me killed?”
“What? No,” Saint says, and he has the audacity to sound confused.
It only makes me angrier. “I’m going to have to fix my hair and makeup because of you two, and I don’t know if I’m going to get lucky enough to shower before Pavone shoves his fingers in me to check for violations. Why the fuck did I agree to this?”
“Princess, calm down. You’ll have time to clean up. It’ll be okay,” Angelo says, but his attempt at reassurance falls flat. Maybe if I hadn’t been strangled so recently, it might’ve helped to soothe me, but the bruising around my neck feels like it’s constricting me all over again.
I pull away from them both, desperately looking for something to clean myself up. I find a box of tissues and start furiously dabbing at the cum on me, on wiping my face, and I don’t know how I’m going to get away with this. I would’ve carried extra makeup on me if I’d known this was going to happen—and why the fuck did I let it happen? What is wrong with me, that I can’t resist them no matter how hazardous they are to my well-being?
This is the Lucia that Vanessa didn’t recognize. The one who would do all this without actually considering any of the consequences. The one who gives in to these monsters and defends their actions.
Saint reaches out to me again, and I slap his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“Kitten… Let me help you with the dress, at least.” He holds up the beautiful, dark navy dress, and my first thought is justthank god they didn’t stain it.
I snatch the dress away from him. “I can do it myself.”
“What are you so mad about now, Princess?” Angelo asks. “We showed you a good time. Better than…” He trails off. He knows exactly what kind of shit Pavone has done to me, and here he is, convincing—forcing—me to fuck him and Saint. He keeps saying he’s going to murder Pavone, but his regard for me doesn’t extend far enough to holding back.
I pull the dress on quickly, edging away from all of them.
My eyes land on Victor. He hasn’t said anything for a while now, but his eyes are fixed on me. “You have something you want to say, Victor?” I snap at him.
“Simply wondering what the point of your tantrum is,” Victor answers in his bored tone.
“My tantrum?” I ask sharply. “Is that what you think this is? I’m going back into a den of sharks covered in blood, and you think I’m throwing a tantrum like a child? No.” I shake my head and jab a finger at him. “I’m just realizing how fucking little you all actually care about me. God. I thought I was going to…” I don’t even know what I was going to say, but I cut myself off anyway. “Just… stop with this. The visits. You’re going to get mekilled.”
