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ChapterTwenty
JUNE
Ihaven’t felt so sexually liberated before in my life, not even the first time Marcello and I had sex. He didn’t even need to fuck me to make me feel like I belonged to him, but the endorphins rushing through my body is giving me all the confirmation I need that it’s something I’ve been craving. That sense ofbelongingto someone, to feel like someone else needs you in their life, even if it’s just for sex.
But I’m not supposed to want that.
Marcello grabs my shirt from the floor and wipes his cum off my face with it. The gesture feels shockingly intimate in comparison to how aggressive and domineering he was just moments ago. Marcello’s response to the feeling of my mouth on his dick made me feel more powerful than ever.
“Maybe next time, I’ll do more than just cum on your face if you’re going to choose to tease me like that. I hold the power here, not you,” he says with a knowing gaze as he stands up to put his pants back on.
His cock is still so big even when he’s not hard. I’m shocked that I was able to comfortably have sex with him at all.
He adjusts his belt and leaves the room without another word. In a way, I like that he doesn’t feel the need to stick around and make conversation just because I blew him. I wouldn’t know how to act after having to pull myself together like this, and I’m sure he would get off on it.
Even still, it feels a little bit gross of me to let him use me like this. I don’t know if that’s what he wants entirely. I could be reading the situation wrong, but I can’t let him believe that I’m just going to stay here forever and be his bang-maid.
If I’m being honest with myself, I don’t think I could tolerate Marcello’s personality if I had met him back home in the United States. I would be hooked by his charm and playful rudeness, but the novelty would wear off extremely quickly when I realized that he was this wayall the time. Who can deal with that in their partner?
He’s so dominant and authoritative in everything that he does. It has to be exhausting after a while.
I’m curious why the last girl left. I’m certain it has something to do with his unrelenting, harsh persona. There’s no way he’s actually like that right down to his core, but how will I find out who he really is if I don’t take the time to investigate?
The irony of the situation is that I’ve spent nights fantasizing about this kind of arrangement between us for years now. If you had told me three years ago that I would be sucking Marcello’s dick in his high-security mansion, I would have said that you were being mean and that I wasn’t going to fall for it.
But now that I’ve been around him for just a little too long, things are starting to feel a bit harder to navigate. He’s certainly not the romantic loverboy that I met at the café originally, so where did that version of him go? Even if it’s a rarity for him, it would be nice to see him lighten up a little bit.
When I think about how long it could take for me to reveal every layer of his true self, I feel overwhelmed. Should I really be trying to psychoanalyze him like this? What’s my end game? It’s obvious that we aren’t compatible if he’s just going to be an asshole all the time.
I’m tempted to try and break into his past a little, to find out who hurt him when he was young to make him so hardheaded and mean. I understand that the nature of his work doesn’t allow him to have much of a soft side, but what’s the point of being alive if you can never let go once in a while? All the money in the world isn’t going to make life worth living when you’re always so tense.
I need to learn what makes him click. There has to be a way for me to get him to open up to me. If there’s anyone who can do that, I figure it has to be me. Everyone else in his life is one of his employees, and I can’t imagine that emotional vulnerability is encouraged in his cutthroat lifestyle.
I remove myself from my obsession with Marcello for a split second. What has been going on in my life beyond him? He forced me to quit my job, of course, but I also have two little boys that I need to return to at some point. I’ve been repressing my resentment of Marcello for taking away the income that’s kept his own children from hunger since the day they were born.
Those boys are missing me, and pieces of me are dying every day that goes by that I can’t see their faces or hear their voices. My mother knows I’ll be gone for a while, but she can’t take care of them forever. She has her own life to worry about, and the last thing she needs is to be raising my children when I’m perfectly capable. I promised her that I would do my best not to let my pregnancy become her lifelong commitment, and I feel like I’m failing miserably.
One thing I know for sure is that I can’t let Marcello believe that I’m going to let him use me for his amusement just because I haven’t been able to escape from him. He really does have quite the god complex, and not in the way that he believes he can save everyone.
While I’m here, I might as well try on these clothes.
When I pull the rest of the clothing out of the bag, I’m astonished by how much variety there is. All of the fabrics have their own unique personality, and I have to admit that I’m pretty excited to see how all of them looks on me.
Even though Marcello knows absolutely nothing about my personal style, he’s managed to find clothes that suit me perfectly. I almost want to pick his brain and figure out what went into the design choices because I almost never find clothes I like at any store I walk into. In a way, I’m actually quite jealous that he’s got such an eye for details like that.
The first thing I pull out of the bag is a black dress with a sheer neckline and sleeves. I’ve never been able to find something like this anywhere, but I’ve always seen celebrities and other socialites wearing almost this exact thing. The dress clings perfectly to my hips and waist, and I feel like I could walk into any room in the world and command the attention of each person present. With some red lipstick and smokey brown eyeliner, I’d be the sexiest version of myself that I’ve ever seen.
It makes me wonder what his vision was for each of these outfits. Each piece is pretty unique, even before I put it on. Is he trying to dress me up to find the perfect aesthetic for me? Is he trying to make me the best arm candy that he can find? I feel a bit like a designer Barbie, and I’m not sure what to make of it.
The cruel irony in all this is that I would kill for a boyfriend who chose outfits for me when we were going out together. I’ve never dated anyone who cared that much about taking care of the little things, and it’s something that always made me mad with envy whenever I heard other women bragging about it. Some of them would even complain about their man being overbearing, but it always sounded so ungrateful to me.
Marcello clearly wants me to look good for him, which at least shows me that he wants me to feel good as well. That’s something I can respect even if it feels like he’s treating me like a doll sometimes.
In order to overcome this separation between us, I need to learn to connect with him somehow. So far, the only connection we have is that he feels a sense of duty to keep me safe, but that’s led us to misunderstandings and mutual irritation with each other.
He’s a human. I just have to find the human inside him.
Something I hadn’t considered is that Marcello might never let me go unless he learns to trust me as well. It might take some time, but I need to earn his trust in order to gain privileges likegoing outside.Eventually, I do need to return home to care for the children that he so graciously gave me.
