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“O-one…” He coughs up, just as a softer pair of hands grabs my arm.
“Stop, he gets the point,” Camilla tells me hesitantly, still drawing close to me for some reassurance that she’s doing the right thing. I’m surprised. He’s insulted her, called her dirty, but she goes and begs on his behalf. This girl is really something else.
If it’s left to me, I won’t stop until I’ve drilled into his head that what he did was wrong. We don’t allow just any other thug into our organization, so why he’s here is beyond me. Some of my most trusted men don’t even speak to me that way, and he thinks he can walk like he owns the place and speak to my girl as though she’s nothing? I can only assume he doesn’t have one functioning brain cell.
What am I saying? I run this whole fucking thing.
I give one more, forceful kick directly to his middle with as much force as I could muster, Camilla gripping at my arm, shaking like a leaf. He lets out a massive groan, retching slightly as he attempts to cough and breathe, likely sustaining enough injury to put him somewhere for a few days out of commission while everyone else finds out about what he did.
No one insults my girl and lives to tell the tale. He’s lucky she’s pleading his case.
“And you.” I turn to her, who’s still looking at me with equal parts disbelief and horror. “You’re going to get something special. You should take notes.”
4
Camilla
Cassio has taken me back inside, quickly putting up his jacket and double checking to make sure that he has no blood or other bodily fluid on his shoes. My feelings adjust themselves to what I’ve just seen—enjoying the sheer force of power that I’ve just witnessed pushed on to someone else but still slightly fearful of what Cassio is capable of. He doesn’t strike me as a particularly violent person, but as a car dealer or repo man… What was he talking about? How could he be that forceful to someone he knew? Why did people know him like that?
“Cassio?” I call out, watching him as he walks deeper into his home. I once again have a lingering uncertainty as to whether staying home would have been the better choice. The kiss and embrace we shared earlier was overshadowed by a random guy who didn’t recognize Cassio as his boss. Now look where that got him—bloody and severely injured.
Are these the kind of people that he surrounds himself with? Is this something he does on the daily? Violence rolls off him in waves, but weirdly, I don’t feel scared. On the contrary, I feel safe, and what does that say about me?
“Alright.” He sighed, huffing a heavy breath. He brings in a chair from one of the other rooms, setting it directly in the middle of what appeared to be the center of his home, a staircase on the right side leading up to the second floor with marbled white and black tiles underneath in a circle. Each direction has an arch opening to another set of rooms in the house, including the foyer where I stand, quite a beautiful architecture for a building like this. I don’t expect anything less from a person who probably gets millions in commissions for selling cars. Something tells me this is just a sneak peek into his wealth.
“Why don’t you take a seat here?” he suggests, gesturing to his legs, spread open slightly. The fabric of his pants grips rather tightly around all of him, the suit well fitted but ever so slightly a fraction of a size smaller than it should have been, leaving next to nothing to the imagination.
“Um… would you care if I ask why?” I’m puzzled as to what exactly he wants me to do. Is this how we’re supposed to have conversations? My heart is racing. I’m nervous because I’ve gotten a glimpse of his power. There’s no fear, just a slight intrigue about this hulking man before me. It’s only been a few hours since I left my house and even so, I feel like I already know him really well, despite the nature of our agreement.
“Just come here.” His voice is emotionless. He remains welcoming despite what happened before. Add confusion to the list of emotions I’m currently feeling. There’s this obviously dangerous man who, somehow, treats me differently and is actually considerate and kind to me. The way he flips his personas is driving me crazy. It’s like his violent side is reserved for everyone else except me.
Without delving deeper into the whys anymore, I take a few steps forward, still trying to understand what he’s asking of me.
I stand before him in the main vaulted room, looking into his eyes. He motions for me to come a bit closer.
It’s not like I have a choice, but to be fair, I’m badly attracted to him. I mean, I kissed him first.
His hands gently press against the sides of my body, guiding me down and forward. My shoulders and torso rest on his knees. Because he’s so tall, my legs dangle to the ground. When I’m in this position, I’m completely at his mercy. I can’t do anything else.
“What are you doing? What is this?” Blood roars in my ears as he gently lifts up the edge of the tattered dress I’m wearing. I’m feeling exposed, and on instinct, I try to wiggle and pull the dress down, but he swats my hand away.
His hand grazes my butt, making me clench my thighs. I let my hair fall to my face, too embarrassed to say or do anything. With one large paw, he cups and squeezes one asscheek. I feel my face heat up, not expecting such an intimate and light touch. His hand is warm against my skin, but he might as well have set me on fire with the way my entire body burns with anticipation.
“I just need to make something clear,” he states, his voice soft and kind, almost understanding in a way. “In the future, you can never put yourself in danger. I don’t quite plan on doing anything like this yet, but I don’t know what I’d do if something happens to you. I’ll look out for you and protect you in any way I can.”
“Like… a father would?”
“Yeah, like a father would.”
I turn to look at him, and he purses his lips, taking a second as he looks me over. His rough, calloused hand still rests flatly on my smooth behind, but he doesn’t do anything more. My breath hitches as I realize I want him to touch me.
“Do you… want me to call you daddy?”
“Yeah, I do.” He smiles, his other hand rubbing on my back, his fingers tracing my spine. I resist the urge to whimper because I’m more than enjoying the comfort that his touch provides, it actually arouses me.
5
Cassio
