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I don’t know if I’ll ever go through another day without hearing those words ring through my thoughts.
I tentatively lean forward and replace the hand on his cock with my own. The skin is soft, like velvet, encasing his rock-hard enthusiasm. Something inside of me snaps as I arch toward his member.
I lick my lips quickly before stretching them over his tip. My jaw feels strained at being open this wide, but I push the frisson of pain to the back of my thoughts.
As I inch down further on his dick, I have to hide my teeth behind my lips to keep from brushing them along the sensitive skin of his shaft. I could bite down right now, leaving him screaming in pain as I hightail it away from his mansion. But I bet he’d find me and do worse than lock me in a nice room and force me to crawl on my knees to get my supper.
I don’t know what I’m doing, but Raniero makes sounds as if he enjoys it. He gathers my hair in a fist, pulling it back from my face so he can get a better view of his cock disappearing inside my mouth. I hear a strained curse word slip from his lips.
My tongue feels useless in my mouth as I take him as far back as I can manage. The tip of his cock triggers my gag reflex and I choke on him. My throat tightens around him as the few bites of dinner I had threaten to reappear. But just as quickly as I’m suffocating around him, he uses his grip on my hair to yank my head back.
I linger on the top half of his dick for a few moments as I try to regain my senses. I run my tongue along the underside of his shaft and hear him start praising Mary and Joseph. I think that’s a good sign.
When I feel comfortable taking him in my mouth again, I bob up and down on his member. My movements are shallow at first, not wanting to choke again, but Raniero forces my head down further until I feel him tickling the back of my throat again.
“Fuck,” he swears loudly, the word ringing off the walls of the dining room. A second later, he explodes in my mouth. The taste of his salty sperm coats my mouth and I don’t know what to do. I want to sit back and let him finish elsewhere, but his grip on my hair makes that impossible. Instead, I swallow as fast as I can. He doesn’t taste gourmet like the steak he was just feeding me, but he isn’t bad.
Raniero finally releases my hair and it falls around my shoulders like a curtain. I pull away from him and cum dribbles out of my mouth. What I couldn’t swallow fast enough now drips down my chin and I bring my hand up to surreptitiously wipe it away.
When he gets up, he leans down to press his lips to the top of my head. It is an intimate gesture that sends a shiver down my spine. “Sampson will bring you a plate of food,” Raniero says after a moment, his voice taking on a very serious tone. “Feel free to sit at the table and enjoy it. Good night, my love.” Then he leaves the room, the soles of his shoes echoing through the hallway before he makes it to the staircase.
A second later, Sampson appears with a covered silver tray. “Miss Jackson,” he nods his head at me, “I was instructed to give this to you.”
I get to my feet and my legs feel a little wobbly. My knees hurt, but that’s to be expected after kneeling on marble for the last half hour. I take the seat that Raniero was just in as Sampson removes the first plate and leaves mine in its wake. “Thank you,” I mumble quietly.
Sampson nods his head once before backing out of the room. There’s no one around, but it still feels like someone’s eyes are on me. I grab the steak knife left on the table and the fork Raniero and I both shared. Between the two, I cut into the divine, medium-rare treasure before me. Despite having a belly full of cum and half a plate of steak and potatoes, my stomach rumbles when I bring the tines to my lips. This was definitely worth losing my blowjob virginity over.
As I’m escorted upstairs a few minutes later when I’m too stuffed to keep eating, I take stock of the mansion bathed in gold from the setting sun. Priceless paintings hang on the wall. Every inch of the downstairs floor is covered in cold, beautiful marble. Ornate hardware is everywhere: door handles, drawer handles, cabinet pulls, and more. Everything is coated in a layer of wealth and privilege that, even when I was living with my father, I never experienced.
“What does Raniero do?” I ask Sampson. He holds me by the bicep and for a second, his fingertips dig into my skin. Sampson clears his throat before telling me that if Raniero wanted me to know what he did, he’d tell me.
I sigh with frustration when I’m forced back into my prison. I have everything a woman could want in here: food, drinks, books, a television, a soft bed, a bathroom, clothes, and more. But the only thing I really want is something I can’t have: answers.
I throw myself on the bed dramatically and scream into the high thread count comforter. My anger is muffled in the deep red and black damask pattern.
My father has been an asshole for as long as I can remember. He’s pissed off everyone from state officials to drug dealers on the streets. He’s worked at every station in this county and the one next door, but it was only when he started at the Manhattan office that he started working his way up the leadership ladder.
His actions have gotten me in trouble more than once, but this is the first time they’ve threatened my life. I’ve been cornered by gangs that he arrested and beaten up by girls’ moms he took to jail for selling prescription pills, but they never did more than make a few threats and leave a few bruises.
Whatever my father did to Raniero must have been bad because it’s rare that a traffic ticket facilitates this kind of reaction from a man. What did Grant do to piss off Raniero? And why? If he has enough money to have a mansion overlooking the lake, then why did my father fuck with him?
I roll over on the bed and stare up at the ceiling of my new home. I know that it could be worse, but what if Raniero is telling the truth? What if he really plans to get me pregnant, marry me, and keep me here forever?
The little voice in my head tells me that I could do worse than a rich, handsome man with a big dick.
“A big dick I don’t know what to do with,” I mumble in response even though the voice is only in my head. Who’s going to tell the big bad kidnapper that my mouth wasn’t the only unpenetrated hole at dinner tonight?
When I was in high school, I didn’t have time for boyfriends. I was busy fending off my father’s abusive attacks and keeping my P.E. teacher from seeing the bruises. I learned early on that reporting my dad would only get me into more trouble. He convinced my junior high guidance counselor that I was acting out over the loss of my mother and that I was giving myself those beatings. I couldn’t imagine what he’d do if I tried to confide in the high school nurse.
As I got older, I was too busy fighting to stay off the streets and keep my tent from being broken into. I didn’t have time for relationships when the only place I could bring a man back to was a friend’s couch. I used dating apps to get free dinners from time to time, but nothing ever progressed past a couple of kisses.
When Raniero wants more than a few mouth hugs, who’s going to be the one to tell him that I’m untouched goods?
7
RANIERO
Ispent half the night going back through the Jackson family files.
