Page 8 of Depraved Lust
“Are you a Cassano?” I ask with force.
“No. I’m not.”
“So why are you going to kill me then?” My heart sinks. I don’t understand. How many fucking people did I piss off?
“I’m not going to kill you,” he says with a hard voice. His blue eyes turn dark, and I can feel the weight of the conviction in his voice. “It took a lot for me to be able to have you. But I bought you from the Cassanos, and now I’m keeping you.” I can’t help that my pussy twitches at his words.
“Why?” my voice asks, without my conscious consent.
He leans forward slightly. “I’ve asked you twice now to come and get down on your knees. You need to learn to listen.”
My feet move of their own accord until I’m standing in front of him. My legs tremble as I slowly kneel before him. I swallow thickly. Finally, I sit on my heels and keep my eyes on the door behind him. I have to do what needs to be done. My heart sinks and I just want to cry.
“Look at me, kitten,” his deep voice commands me, and I look up at him reluctantly. I feel weak, and I hate it. Everyone assumes I’m weak. Now that I’m on my knees without a fight, it’s hard for me to disagree. I look at his gorgeous face with nothing but sadness on mine.
“Don’t be sad. You’ll enjoy this.” He leans forward and places a large hand on my shoulder. I fucking lean into his touch and close my eyes before I can stop myself. “Trust me.”
My eyes harden at his words, but before I can spit back that I don’t even know him, let alone trust him, he takes his hand away and says, “You’ll learn to trust me.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and wait for his next move. My eyes are drawn to his fingers as he reaches for a chunk of what I think is tuna. My mouth waters as he dips it into some sort of sauce and brushes it along the side of the cup until none of the sauce is dripping from the chunk of fish. He brings it to my lips, and I instinctively lean back and move my hands up in front of my face.
The man’s deep voice rings out. “No.” My body jumps at his disapproval, and my heart races as I look into his eyes. Half of me still expects him to be violent toward me, even though he hasn’t yet. “You know what I want.”
He seems to relax some as he registers my fear. “Hands on your knees like they were, and mouth open. You were seated perfectly.”
I obey him even though my fear seems to paralyze my body. I’m simply moving to his commands in order to survive. I have to admit him saying I was “seated perfectly” gives me a small thrill. And I fucking hate that. I wish he didn’t have this effect on me.
“Open,” he commands, and I do as he says. He gently places the chunk of tuna in my mouth and as he does, my stomach grumbles from hunger.
He smiles down at me and dips another piece in the sauce. “I knew you were hungry, kitten.” He looks at me again with curiosity, holding the piece over the plate. “Do you like it?”
My heart beats slowly as I search his face. I wonder if he’s toying with me. If I admit that I like it, he might take it away and make me starve.
“I’d like you to answer me quickly and honestly, Catherine.” His voice holds a note of admonishment, and I feel compelled to apologize.
“I’m sorry, s--” Sir is on the tip of my tongue, but I pause as I realize I don’t know what to call him.
“Anthony,” he says, answering my unspoken question. “No need to be sorry.” His other hand grips my chin to get my attention. “You’re learning. I can be reasonable so long as you’re making an effort to obey. Is that understood?” he asks.
“Yes, Anthony.”
“Good.” His fingers stroke my jaw briefly. “Did you like that?” he asks.
“Yes...Anthony.” It feels odd saying his name again so soon. But I imagine it’s what he wants.
He smirks at me, the fucking bastard. “You don’t have to say it every time.” He holds the fish out and I open my mouth obediently.
It’s so fucking good. It’s not fair that I am fucking loving this fish. It’s sweet, with a hint of spice. I’d eat this every day if I could. My eyes widen. He knew I’d like it. He smirks at me again as if reading my mind.
“Open,” he says, holding out another piece.
I do as he says. And again and again. His fingers brush against my lips more and more. He puts a piece up to my mouth, and I take it and swallow before I realize his finger is still in front of my face.
“A bit of sauce, suck.” My core heats and stirs as I maintain eye contact and open my mouth. His lips part as he slips his finger slowly into my mouth. I gently suck and massage him with my tongue. His eyes go half-lidded, and his breath comes in pants. And that’s when I push my teeth down. Not hard, but enough that they scrape against him as he slowly pulls his finger free from my mouth. I know it didn’t hurt him, but he got the message.
Once his finger is finally released, he grabs my jaw forcefully. He shoves his thumb into my mouth, tilting my head slightly. I'm forced to remain still, with my neck bent at an awkward angle. “Be a good girl, kitten. I know you could hurt me if you wanted to.” He leans in closer and whispers in my ear. His hot breath sends shivers down my back. “Just remember, I could hurt you too, if I wanted.” The threat makes me regret my action. My eyes fall, and tears prick the back of them as he releases me. My heart hurts, and anxiety races through me.
“Open.” I hear him give his command, but I can’t. I feel sick to my stomach. I fall back onto my heels and turn away from him. I can’t. I can’t do this. I back away slightly as he moves to the floor, setting the plate on the metal chair with a clink. Tears leak from my eyes.
