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I start to rub my pussy, but he notices.
"Stop or else I'll fuck your mouth harder."
I can't resist, so I keep touching myself, and true to his word, he goes even harder.
His release comes suddenly, filling my mouth with a taste I've never experienced before. It's intoxicating and overwhelming, and as I drink it all down, I realize how good it feels. As soon as he's done, he flips me back up on the bed and his fingers are inside of me again, pumping me so hard that I cry out.
"Slow down!" I beg, feeling everything building within me.
"Shut up," he says. "I know better than you, so just take it."
"Feels like I'm going to pee," I tell him again.
"Good. I want to see you embarrass yourself that way for me."
And then it happens - the biggest release I've ever felt, water gushing from me as my entire body trembles with pleasure.
The sensation is indescribable, like a tidal wave crashing through my very being, washing away every ounce of control I thought I had. I feel vulnerable, exposed, and yet more alive than I have ever been in my life. As the waves of pleasure subside, I'm left breathless, trembling, and utterly spent.
Barely able to catch my breath, I'm still trembling when a knock on the door yanks me back to reality. Giovanni hastily fixes his clothing and strides out of the room, shutting the door behind him. I strain to hear the muffled conversation outside, but it's impossible to make out any words.
Moments later, he reenters the room, his face stoic and unreadable. "You'll wear one of those pairs of shoes each day from now on," he says firmly, his eyes locked with mine. "I expect you to get my money's worth from them."
I sit up on the bed, confusion clouding my thoughts. What is he talking about? But before I can ask, he turns and leaves the room, the door clicking shut behind him. The spark in his eyes that had fueled my desire is gone, leaving me feeling strangely violated yet utterly satisfied.
I can't deny it - deep down, I wanted what just happened. In fact, I crave more. With unsteady legs, I stand and remove my dress, leaving it crumpled on the floor as I walk towards the front room of my quarters. There, I find multiple carts filled with all of the boxes of shoes I'd bought earlier. My heart races at the sight, a mix of disbelief and excitement washing over me. I'd assumed he'd return them; instead, they're here, a tangible reminder of our twisted connection.
The forbidden thrill of our encounters consumes me, making me question everything I thought I knew about myself. As I survey the collection of shoes before me, I wonder what my next move will be - and if I'm prepared for the consequences.
ChapterTwenty
Iawaken with a sense of relief, stretching my limbs and glancing at the phone on the nightstand. The screen reads 10:17am, and I feel grateful for the extra sleep today brings. No office work for me this Saturday, but I'm sure Giovanni is already there, managing his empire. A dull ache between my legs reminds me of our heated encounter yesterday, and a shiver of excitement runs through me as I recall the intensity of it all.
I grab my phone and notice several unread messages from my mother. My heart leaps in my chest, knowing she must be worried about me.
Hi, Lulu. How are you? Are you safe?
I pause for a moment, thinking about Giovanni and the complex web of emotions that have developed between us. In spite of everything, I do feel safe with him.
Yes, I'm alright. And I am safe.
I'm glad to hear that. It eases my heart to know that someone is looking out for you.
How are you and Sofia doing?
Things are very tense here in Miami, Lulu. El Lobo's grip on the city grows stronger every day, and they're targeting anyone loyal to your father. I'm just glad you're not here in the middle of it all.
Guilt surges through me, knowing my family is suffering while I'm away.
I hate that I'm not there with you. I feel so guilty.
Your safety is what matters most to us, Lulu. We'll be together again soon enough. Once your father is released, everything will be okay.
Love you.
Love you too, sweetheart. Stay strong. Have faith.
I lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts racing a mile a minute. My mother is living in denial. There's no way my father will be acquitted. The authorities wouldn't have made his trial so public if they weren't sure of a conviction. They're making an example out of him, and it breaks my heart to think about it.
