Page 71 of Hell Hath No Fury

“It feels so wrong,” I respond, shifting on my feet. “You know there’s probably a pay-per-view broadcast. There’s no way she’s doing this for her own private viewing pleasure.”

His hand moves to my hip, massaging soothingly. “Oh, definitely. But if it helps, I wouldn’t have needed the Viagra.”

I frown at his words, leaning down a bit and taking a good look into his eyes. “You’re fucking high.”

He chuckles and shrugs. “Whatever I am, we can’t undo this fuckery now, so we may as well go with it.”

“Get the fuck on with it,” Irina shouts. “We don’t have all fucking day.”

At her words, several people ascend on us, and I’m yanked away, hands pulling at my clothes. I slap them away, punching one man in the face before the others manage to get control of me. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Don’t fight them, Lil,” Antonio says from where he’s now sprawled on his back, two men behind him, holding his wrists so his arms are stretched over his head. “Just get this done nice and easy, and then we can go on to the next thing.”

It’s worse than I thought. The fucker is higher than a damn kite. “What the fuck did you give him?”

Irina’s smile is tinged with evil, and a shiver goes down my spine. “Don’t worry, Lilith. You of all people should know he’ll still be able to get the job done.”

Fury erupts inside me, and I kick and punch out at the men holding me, managing to break free. I take two steps toward Irina, ready to smash her face in, when Antonio shouts, “Lilith.”

I come up short, my entire body shaking with rage. Irina swallows visibly, and I get some satisfaction from the glimmer of fear in her eyes as I’m scooped up and hustled back to where Antonio awaits me.

Heart pounding in my chest, I slap roaming hands away, the twisting ache in my chest a nostalgic nightmare I can no longer outrun. “I’ll do it myself.”

Irina nods to the men surrounding me, and they fall back out of the way.

“Focus on me,” he whispers, his eyes intent on my face. “Only look at me. No one else matters.”

I do as instructed, and at his nod of encouragement, I quickly strip out of my clothes, methodically, until I stand before him, head held high.

He attempts to move his arm, but his wrists are still being held over his head. He cranes his head to look back, yanking both arms. “This is entirely unnecessary.”

The men look to Irina, who responds, “It’s fine,” and they release him, stepping back a few feet. Antonio’s attention shifts back to me, his hand extended, beckoning me closer. My inhalation is shuddering, and I fist my shaking hands, bracing them beneath me as I crawl up onto the mattress with him.

He guides me until I’m straddling his hips, his hands settling on my thighs, his fingers caressing, massaging. Pressing his hip upward, the hard length of his dick slides along my pussy, and my cheeks heat, embarrassment rolling over me as if I’m not a middle-aged woman with decades of experience.

Suddenly, I’m thrown by the overlap of time, of how the past and present collide in the here and now, and I choke back a sob, my eyes squeezing shut. As if being blind to it will protect me.

A tear manages to escape and rolls down my cheek, but then Antonio’s hands move to my head, and he yanks me down on top of him, one hand moving to the back of my head and pressing my face into his neck. “It’s not the same, Lil. This is not the same. We’re not the same.”

I know he’s right. I know deep down that none of this is real. I know this moment doesn’t define us, break us, mold us.

Because this time, he knows.

This time, he leads me, directs me, and keeps me from sliding down into the abyss of shame that taunts me incessantly.

“It’s just us, Lil,” he murmurs against my ear. “No one else exists but us.”

His hands on my bare back soothe me, his palms rubbing gently as I slowly begin to relax. He rolls his hips again, but this time, the slick rub of his cock between my legs has me gasping for new reasons.

He chuckles lightly, his words quiet against my ear. “I love how wet you are for me.”

The sob that escapes is incredulous, and I shake my head as I retort, “For fuck’s sake, Antonio. Focus on getting the job done.”

He laughs again, then clears his throat. “I’m trying.”

“If ever there was a time for you to be a two-pump chump, this is it,” I tease, even though I am entirely serious. We may have to do this, but that doesn’t mean we need to drag it out for anyone else’s pleasure.

“I never want to come before you,” he breathes into my neck, his hands moving to my hips, adjusting me so the head of his dick is poking inside me. “But I’m also vehemently against anyone else watching you come.”

---