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I round the kitchen island and dive under the red tablecloth in search of the blasted device as the song continues, sending a message to Dante that I’d like him to lick my neck, my back, my pussy and my crack. Kill. Me. Now.
The phone has fucked off to god knows where because it sure as hell is not under this table with me. I should just stay here and pretend I don’t exist. Except my face is inches from Dante’s crotch, which surely adds a cherry on top of the clusterfuck I’ve gotten myself into.
“Alessa.” His strained voice barely reaches me in my little den.
Mortification is not something I feel too often. By now, you might have noticed my penchant for cheap thrills. And let’s be honest, with that comes thick skin and a low embarrassment threshold. But with my cheeks burning so hot I could fry eggs on them, I come to terms with finding said threshold.
I decide I might as well move in under the table. It’s nice and cosy down here. Throw in some cushions and a blanket, and you’ve got yourself a palace. Bonus points, it’s in the kitchen—easy food access.
“Hi.” Dante slides under the tablecloth.
“Hi.” I blush even further as he sits opposite me. His eyes are so intense I can’t take it anymore, so I bury my face behind my hands.
“What’s going on, Alessa?” His large fingers wrap around mine and pull them off my face.
“You must think I’m desperate, but this came out all wrong,” I mumble, trying and failing to explain my horror.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, it looks like I’m trying to seduce you!” I throw my hands up, banging them on the underside of the table in the process. “Ouch.” My face crumbles in pain.
“You’re not trying to seduce me?” He takes my hands into his, cradling them before placing a gentle kiss on each. I shake my head. “Well, it’s a bit of a blow to my ego, then. I was hoping you were.”
“You were?”
“I’ve been walking around with my cock rock hard for you ever since I saw you in your pencil skirt and your lips painted red, Alessa. It’s been the toughest month of my life, staying away from you. The only thing keeping me from giving in was the knowledge that I don’t deserve you and that I can’t give you everything you deserve.”
I bite my lip, my heart hammering in my chest. “Oh.”
“Indeed,” he sighs. “Shall we have dinner?”
I nod, scrambling from under the table.
“So if seduction wasn’t your plan, what was?” Dante asks once we’re standing up. I move to grab the plates off the counter and place them on the table, my lips thin. “Ah, I think I get it,” he chuckles.
“You do?” I sit down, my gaze on my lap as he takes a seat opposite me, replacing the red napkin on his lap.
He grabs a fork from beside his plate and mixes the spaghetti around cautiously. “Do you really think I’m that stupid?” His piercing brown eyes look right into my soul, blazing hot with… amusement?
35
DANTE
The stench of ketchup-based sauce wafts up to my nostrils as I move the pasta around my plate. Alessa bites her lip, her cheeks flushing hot pink, making me think of all the other pink places on her body. My dick stirs in approval.
This past week has been hell. It’s been more and more difficult to keep myself away from her and not give in to every single dirty thought I have when she’s around. I spent as much time away from her as possible. Mostly in the basement, torturing the piece of shit I brought home in the trunk of my Maserati. Today my patience snapped, and after cutting off his dick, I briefly considered raping him with it, just so that he could taste his own medicine, start repenting for everything he has done to Alessa, but also to any other girls his family fostered. And I’m sure there were many others. Sick fucks like him don’t stop at one when they can get away with it. But, unfortunately, the fucker died on me. A shame since I had so many wonderful plans for him. Alas, his heart gave out from the shock of losing his useless, tiny cock, no doubt.
There was blood everywhere, and normally, I’d be feeling the overwhelming urge to vomit up my insides, but this time was different. This time, I couldn’t care less. All I could see when looking at him was red anyway. The absolute rage because he touchedmygirl, hurt her, blinded me to everything but the need to make him pay. To make him suffer.
“What do you mean?”
I chuckle. She’s so fucking cute, pretending like she hasn’t filled my house with my least favourite colour. I have to admit at first, I was confused. The new cushions, paintings, trinkets. I thought maybe she wanted to make my house feel more homely. More comfortable. Make it hers. I thought I’d shrug it off and let her get on with it. But that same night, I found my toothbrush had been swapped to a new one, a shiny red one… As were my towels, which were now fluffy red and monogrammed with my initials.
I was almost able to hold back the chuckle. The little spitfire has balls.
“Well, either you have lost your mind,oryou’re toying with me.”
She blinks innocently. “Me? Toying with the biggest bad in town?”
