Page 65 of Angel's Whisper

When Massimo signaled to her, gesturing with his hand for her to join him, Isotta’s eyes grew large. This was the moment of truth. This was the moment she feared the most when a real decision would have to be made. Was she strong enough, convicted by her marital vows enough to make the right one? One she could live with?

Isotta’s eyes moved before her mind completely processed all the speculation. It was like she was drawn to him, inexplicably, and she couldn’t help herself. The closer she got to Massimo, the harder Isotta’s heart pounded in her chest. Her knees felt like jelly, but still, she moved ever closer to him. And then he smiled. An open invitation. Isotta paused. Lured by him but afraid. Massimo never stopped masturbating, even as Isotta drew closer to helping him. Massimo removed his hand from behind his head and made undeniable eye contact with her, inviting her to join him. The one-note drum beat in the room from the movie that seemed to be even more distant than it was seemed to get louder, the pace quickening. Isotta didn’t know if it was her heart she heard thumping in her ears or whether it was the staccato beat present in the background.

Without conscious thought, Isotta drew in a deep breath and moved her hand even closer. She was still some ways away, but it was close enough for him to see the trepidation written all over her face and for Isotta to see the sexy turn of his lips, the steel of his jaw, the sultry in his eyes, the natural sheen to his chest. Massimo didn’t rush her. He needed this to be as organic and natural as possible. He wanted Isotta to want to be involved to the extent that she was comfortable with.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him, any part of him, and the trembling she felt in her loins was undeniable. Closing the distance between the two of them, Massimo leaned in and spoke over the pounding bass beat.

“Touch me…”

Isotta didn’t recoil, although her self-accusing spirit said she should have. Isotta’s cheeks heated up again as Massimo withdrew, only enough to bring their faces so close together that Isotta could kiss him. She looked from his dark eyes to the fullness of his lips and then back again. When Massimo closed the distance even more, Isotta relinquished. When their lips met, the kiss was gentle and tender. But the bolt of lightning Isotta felt shoot down her spine made her want to please him. It was for him. And when she tasted his tongue, Isotta lost her inhibition and leaned into what she owed him.

Slowly, Massimo lifted Isotta’s hand and placed it on his chest. The strength she imagined from a distance, she felt up close. His skin was smooth, and she could feel the beat of his heart in her hand. Isotta looked down at her hand against him, and when Massimo moved her hand lower down to his ripped abs, Isotta traced them, each one, and her body tried to respond. She still didn’t feel like herself. Massimo never allowed his eyes to leave hers, even though Isotta’s were downcast, so the moment that she looked up, he would be waiting for her. It would have been so easy to lose herself in that moment, absolutely, if she felt up to it. If she didn’t feel slightly repulsed by it, even though she knew she shouldn’t.

But Massimo wasn’t done with her. Naturally, her feminine touch caused his nature to rise. It would be so easy for him to lose himself in the moment. He could see in Isotta’s eyes and in the tremble of her touch that she had some reservations. But he needed her to participate. It was the least she could do since he was being respectful enough not to take what he really wanted.

When he placed his hand firmly on top of hers and eased their collective grasp on his manhood, her initial reaction to pull back was quelled by his hand being on top. Massimo didn’t stop kissing her, and Isotta tried to keep herself from bristling. Massimo closed his hand over hers, and together, they stroked his thickness. She felt every inch of him. She was still repulsed by the action, but she knew he got some satisfaction out of it. But when he pressed her hand harder, and she felt his member grow underneath her touch, that feeling of repulsion came back over Isotta.

She just wanted it to be over. She wanted it to come to an end. Isotta started to feel sick again, but she knew it was from touching him the way she was being made to that caused it.

“Ahh, come on,” Massimo uttered as he felt his veins thicken, warning of a massive release. He pressed her hand even tighter on his penis, and their collective stroke got even faster. Isotta turned away. She couldn’t look. She didn’t want to be a part of it even though he stood up for her. Was it a part of her wifely duty to please her husband even when they couldn’t? Isotta was sure it was, but a part of her hated every minute of it.

“Uhhhh,” he exhaled when he released. But he didn’t release her hand, though, even though Isotta tried to pull away. He dead-eyed her again, even at the height of his climax. He forced her to stroke him until his dick went soft. When it did, Massimo kissed Isotta on the cheek and left. He left to get something to eat.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“There’s nothing more we can do for you here,” the discharge nurse advised.

“Come on,” Ricardo whined. “I need to be here,” he replied. “I need to stay here. Don’t you understand?”

Nurse Diallo heard his pleas, but she had her orders. “I understand that all of the medical treatment we can provide for you has been provided. You can continue to recuperate in the comfort of your own home, and when it’s time to take off your casts, you can come to the outpatient clinic and have them removed.”

“But I can’t leave! They’ll kill me!”

Nurse Diallo’s brow lightly furrowed, and she took a step back. “I have my orders, and you are slated for discharge no matter what you predict will happen,” Diallo reinforced. Then she thought about what he said. “What do you mean? Who’s going to kill you?”

Ricardo blew out loudly. “It doesn’t matter their names, but they’re going to kill me if they have the chance. And by discharging me from the hospital, they will have their chance.”

She saw how upset he was. “I’m sorry to hear about your circumstances, but an order is an order.”

Are you serious right now? He thought to himself.

“Oh, forget it,” Ricardo hummed. “You have your orders,” he continued. “Even though it’s going to lead to my death. What difference does it make to you? I’m sure you see death all the time.”

Nurse Diallo contemplated apologizing again, but he had already dismissed her. Ricardo turned his head and peered out of the window.

“You have two hours until your final discharge papers are signed.”

Ricardo threw up his hand, the one that wasn’t cast, and sighed heavily. It was his fate. He had no choice but to accept it. As she exited, he contemplated his last will and testament, what he could leave to the people who loved him so they would remember him. Ricardo wanted to be remembered in a good way, not because he ambushed a system but because he mattered. He at least mattered to them.

“I mattered,” he uttered aloud as his eyes started to mist over with fresh tears.

Ricardo had done everything he knew to do to reason with the people who threatened his life. He not only had one set of oppressors but two distinct groups of people who wanted him dead, both for what he did and did not do. They were unreasonable in his meager request to have his life spared. What good would it do to kill him now? What good would it do? Ricardo had done what he originally did to spare his life. Then he undid what he’d originally done to spare his life. What was wrong with trying to save his own life?

Then, Ricardo flopped his head back on the pillow, and his eyes drifted from the window to the blankness of the ceiling. He stared at it for what seemed like an endless amount of time, thinking, pondering, and contemplating his end because he didn’t know of a way to save his own life.

Ricardo had two hours to figure it out. That wasn’t much time.

Well, compared to eternity, it was, Ricardo morbidly thought to himself.

---