Page 163 of Bitter Poetry
Only he’s not fucking me, is he, and maybe touching is allowed…
He begins to pump his fingers in and out slowly
My twitch is entirely involuntary.
“Ah, ah. The first rule is you take what you’re given.”
“I didn’t sign up for rules,” I say, fighting my body’s response, wondering if speaking at all breaks his rules or if I care either way.
“Neither did I, but I can’t fuck you, and my balls are blue merely by lying next to you. At the very least, you need to suffer too.”
“God, Dante, please don’t make me suffer.”
“That was definitely a whine.”
He pushes a third finger in. It’s too much, and his movements are slow out of necessity, but I also love the overfullness and the slight bite of discomfort.
I groan.
“You’re a wonder, Carmela.” He grinds his cock against my ass. “I want to fuck you so badly. But I guess I’m going to have to make do with getting you off.”
“I’m close.”
“I know.” He rubs the heel of his hand against my clit, keeping me stuffed full of his fingers.
Everything is pulsing with arousal down there. My breath catches, and tension invades me; I’m close. I could die for the taste of it. “I can’t come.”
“What makes you think I want you to come yet? Maybe I’ve changed my mind and decided to torment you instead?”
“Please!”
“Ah, the begging voice.” He sucks lightly against my throat, still rocking against my clit. “I think I like you like this, all needy and desperate. My perfect little captive that I can toy with all night.”
It’s too much and not enough. I cannot bear to hang here a moment longer. He tightens his arms around me, almost like he senses I will try to break away. I don’t remember when I stopped breathing, but all the air is trapped in my lungs. A stuttering sob escapes my throat and sweat breaks out across my skin.
Relief and rapture engulf me as I pitch into spasmodic bliss. “Oh God.”
“Good girl.”
A big grin spreads across my face. He’s hard and pressed up against me. It would feel so nice if he were to slide inside me now. “You know Christian fucked me when you weren’t around?”
“Yeah, I did realize that. And yes, I made the promise anyway. I take it all back. You’re a bad girl, trying to lead me astray.”
CHAPTER 51
CHRISTIAN
Ihaven’t spoken to Dante since I was sent to liaise with him in the search for Carmela three days ago. The streets of Chicago are crawling with our soldiers, and everyone is under scrutiny. Our world has been reduced to a powder keg with a lit fuse burning down fast—an explosion is inevitable.
I’m at Ettore’s club in the surveillance room with Jero, Peter, and Rocco. Ettore is in his office next door with his brother Bosco. Raised voices have been coming from that direction and the occasional thud as Ettore throws shit around. He’s met with all his capos over the last few days. From what I can glean, every one of them got reamed like this was somehow their fault.
He threatened to shoot Rocco yesterday.
I mean, I’d have shot the hapless fuck already.
The atmosphere is tense all around.
The house where I dropped the parcel uses a security company, and its recordings are deleted after twenty-four hours. They had already been wiped before Ettore’s men could get access. The rest of the private cameras on that side of the street were blocked by the trees. But a few hours ago, we got CCTVfootage from a house across the street, the only property with an unobstructed view.
