He growled and kept moving his fingers, pleasure flashing through my body. I grabbed at his chest, my fingers digging into his skin. I tried to kiss him but he pulled me back by the hair, pinning me to the wall, fingers working my clit faster, faster, and I began to pant and moan, rolling my hips along his hand. I groaned, losing my mind, losing myself.
“I like that you’re hard,” I moaned. “I like that you take me. I like that you make me… make me harder… oh, my fucking god.”
I arched my back and he grunted in my ear as his fingers made me come. I came hard and he kept working my clit, sending the orgasm through my skin like fire. I gasped and threw myself at him, kissing him hard, sucking his tongue, biting his lip back. He grunted and finished me off, then slid his hand back out from my shorts and stepped back. I leaned against the wall, flushed and panting, sweat dripping down my skin.
“And I like that you come so easily,” he said, a smile on his lips. “I like how badly you want me, and yet you keep trying to pretend like you’re above all this shit. But at the end of the day, little Aida, you’re dripping wet and ready to suck my cock. You’re just as violent as I am, but you don’t even realize it.”
I glared at him, hated him, wanted to get away from him.
And I knew he was right.
As much as it drove me wild, I was a hypocrite and I knew it.
One second, I was disgusted by him and everything he stood for.
And the next, he was taking his shirt off and I was melting for him, coming on his fingers, panting his name.
I wanted it. God, I hated myself, but I wanted it. I needed him to be hard and violent, to be the killer I know he is. As much as that scared me, when it came down to the truth, I was enamored with a monster and I couldn’t help myself.
“Maybe it’s just time to accept it,” he said, turning away. “Get yourself together, little Aida. I’m going to cook you dinner to celebrate.”
I shook my head, wanted to say something in return, wanted to show him that I was better than all this.
But I was silent as he left me alone in the bathroom, my panties soaked through, my legs trembling and head buzzing from the orgasm he just gave me.
I didn’t know what kind of person I wanted to be.
All I knew was that when Dante was around, I felt good. I felt really, really good. I felt more alive than I ever had before, and I thought that if he never left, I’d always be on that high.
I pushed myself from the wall, walked to the sink, and took a deep breath. I fixed my hair in the mirror then went downstairs and into my room. I changed my panties, tossing the ruined, soaked pair in the laundry, then walked down into the kitchen.
I found Dante with an apron on, a knife in his hand, chopping garlic. He grinned at me.
“Pasta?” he asked. “Wine?”
“Yes, please.” I walked over, sat down, and watched my monster cook.
23
Dante
I filled Aida with wine and pasta. She leaned back in her chair and smiled at me, glowing with contentment. I’d gotten her off already, and I knew I’d do it again soon. The food, the wine, it was just a prelude to what I really wanted, what I really was going to take. Her body, her skin, that was everything I wanted, and every time I saw her, it raged through me like a wildfire.
Sitting there, feeling calm for the first time in days, I realized something. It hit me and I let out a breath, feeling foolish for not realizing it before.
“What’s wrong?” Aida asked.
I tilted my head and smiled. “You can read me really well.”
“You just seemed so content for a second there and now you’re looking all pissed again.”
I laughed. “I was just thinking about you.”
“And that makes you angry?” She pouted. “Rough.”
“No, I mean, I was thinking about you and Vlas. About why I’m so desperate to kill him. I think I might not be so intent on ending that fuck if it weren’t for you.”
She bit her lip. “What do you mean?”
“Vlas has a thing for you right now. He thinks he can use you against me, and he’s going to take any opportunity to hurt you that he can. Even if I cripple him, wipe out his leadership, rip apart his business, he’ll still be out there, he’ll still be thinking of ways to get to you.”
She crossed her arms. “So are you saying you got into a car accident all for me?”
I laughed and shrugged, pushing my fork across the plate. Linguine with white wine sauce and shrimp rolled around, and although it was delicious, I couldn’t eat another bite. “Something like that. I’m just realizing that I won today, that I hit Vlas so hard that it’ll take years for the prick to recover, and I can’t enjoy a second of it.”
“All because of me,” she said.
“All because of him. I let him get into my head. You were just the method he used.”
She frowned, lifted her wine glass, and took a long sip. I looked at her lips, her perfect pouty mouth, and could already taste her pussy.
There was a knock at the door, pulling me from my thoughts. I frowned and stood.
“Are you expecting anyone?” she asked.
“No,” I said.
I walked to the kitchen, opened the cabinet under the sink, and found the gun I had taped behind the garbage disposal. I checked the magazine, the slide, and held it behind my back as I walked to the door.
“Stay,” I said to Aida.
I pressed my eye against the peek hole and looked out. Standing on my stoop were four men,
