Chapter 20 Estella #2
Slowly, his gaze drifts to my arm. Concern sweeps across his features, smoothing out the last remnants of murderous rage.
He glances down at himself, mutters a dark curse, then drags his hand over the dead man’s shirt in a lazy attempt to wipe off the blood.
In the next instant, he’s on his feet and rushing toward me.
“You’re bleeding,” he says, dropping to his knees in front of me. His fingers brush my arm, warm and steady, sending a ripple of heat through my body. My muscles loosen, my eyelids flutter closed for a heartbeat. “Come on, we need to get you up.”
His arms slide around my waist, lifting me with a gentleness that contradicts everything he just did. He guides me across the room, easing me onto the couch as though I might shatter.
My gaze drifts to the motionless body lying only a few feet away. The corners of my mouth twitch, trembling their way into the faintest, most fragile smile that manages to break through.
A hand comes to the top of my head, and it pulls my attention away from the ruined body on the floor. I look up and find Dante standing over me, his fingers slipping gently into my hair. Only now do I register the state of it—tangled, wild, the strands twisted from that bastard’s grip.
Dante eases his fingers through the knots with slow, careful strokes, guiding each lock back into place. I stare up at him, stunned into silence, every thought in my skull dissolving like mist.
His other hand rises to my cheek, cupping it with a tenderness that knocks the breath out of me. His thumb grazes across my skin in a slow sweep, warmth unfurling beneath his touch, delicate and impossible—like a whispered secret brushing across the stillness of night.
His touch is featherlight, and I feel myself melting beneath it, softening, losing any sense of where my edges once were.
The contrast is jarring, almost surreal—the same hands that just took a man’s life now move over me as though I’m something precious, something fragile, something he refuses to let slip.
The room fades behind him. Everything dulls except the way he looks at me—as if every part of him is reaching, claiming, and unraveling. It feels like he’s pulling the soul straight out of my body with nothing but his stare and the slide of his thumb.
Instinct nudges me before thought can form. I tilt my head, brushing my lips against the pad of his thumb. His breath stutters in a soft, trembling inhale. The gleam in his eyes shifts, deepening as something raw and hungry sparks alive.
Slowly, I bring my hand to his, guiding his thumb between my parted lips. His breath sharply catches again, his chest rising in a shiver that tells me everything I need to know.
He stands over me, unyielding, but the tiniest shift, the faintest move from me, and I could bring him down to his knees.
Slowly, I open my mouth, taking more of him. My tongue swirls across his thumb, and a moan breaks free when I taste the faint metallic tang on his skin.
“Estella,” he says through gritted teeth, his eyes steady on my movements. My eyes flare with challenge, and he holds his gaze, unblinking, his face shifting into a kaleidoscope of expression.
Wrapping my lips around him, I move my head back and forth, sucking on his finger before my hands travel to his legs. My palms slowly trace them up and down, and I feel his muscles stiffen beneath the clothes.
His patience lasts until I let out another moan, this time louder. Snapping, he pulls his thumb out of my mouth, earning a whimper of disappointment from me. But it doesn’t take long for him to fix his mistake.
Dante presses his damp thumb against the side of my upper lip, tugging it just enough to draw a shiver from me, then drags it across my lower lip, repeating the motion. “Beautiful,” he growls, tracing patterns over my lips like an artist painting his masterpiece. “Open your mouth for me.”
I do, obediently following his command. His body shudders, jaw locking, and I sense his restraint tearing at the seams, a feral desire straining to take control.
“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, and I nearly roll my eyes at the sound of his voice. Fragile, quivering, yet so unnervingly low it feels drawn from the bowels of hell itself.
Sticking my tongue out, I look at him, awaiting his next order. The slick, warm sensation spreads from between my legs in a relentless tease, sending jolts of awareness all the way to my skull.
He looks at my tongue as he slightly leans in, feeding off the neediness that seeps from my pores. Saliva pools at the tip of his lips before he spits. Wet, warm liquid brushes over my tongue, sending a pleasant ripple up my spine before he glides two of his fingers across it.
Gently, he smears the saliva, coating his fingers before roughly pushing them further. “Suck them,” he says, those two words trembling on his lips. I gag at the sudden intrusion, my lips wrapping around his fingers in panic. “Now.”
Tears form at the edges of my eyes as he keeps pushing until the tips of his fingers touch the soft tissue of my throat. A soft whimper escapes me as I look up, my gaze shimmering with a plea, and he answers with a teasing smirk.
A smirk like that could chill the devil to his bones.
I push through the pressure, hollowing my cheeks hard and sucking his fingers. My head moves back and forth, and his lips part as he watches every movement I make.
The whole thing feels so… dirty. Forbidden. At the edge of my thoughts, a small voice murmurs, warning me against this—not now, not with a corpse lying so close.
But it only makes me want to crave this more. Waves of warm pleasure crash over me as I do my job while his fingers play in my mouth. He moves them back a little, only to brush them across my tongue, teasing and rubbing the soft flesh.
His other hand weaves through my hair again, but this time, he fists it, grabbing a handful of strands and holding me still. I suck in a sharp breath while he grabs my tongue with his fingers and starts milking it.
Muffled sounds of pleasure keep flowing out of my mouth while he groans in response.
I wiggle my tongue, softly slapping it across his fingers, and he pulls on my hair hard, sending a rush of electric pleasure through me.
A scorching trail of tingles spreads across my scalp, every touch amplifying the grip in my core.
“Fuck,” he mutters before he lets go of my hair.
His hand drifts to my throat, grazing my skin with a whisper-soft touch before sliding lower, lingering, savoring the moment until it finally rests on my chest. Slowly, he pulls the fabric of my kimono aside, revealing my breast. Wetting his lips, he circles my hard nipple with his finger before putting it between his fingers and pinching it.
A sharp yelp escapes me as pain explodes through my spine, each vertebra screaming in protest, forcing my body to jerk instinctively away from him.
But that only fuels him as he releases my tongue and starts mercilessly pushing his fingers back into my throat while his other hand keeps abusing my sensitive peak.
I twitch and shiver from the onslaught of pain his touch gives me. The burn spreads, licking every inch of my skin before diving deep, setting my lower stomach alight.
Unable to stop moving, I squeeze my legs, giving myself a sweet push that pulses through me, a pleasure so sharp and consuming that my veins burn and my mind tips toward delirium.
“Look at you,” Dante’s voice drifts into my ears, a cruel taunt coloring his words. “So desperate, so hungry. Do you want me to fuck this pussy?”
My breath comes in short, ragged bursts as I teeter on the edge, almost giving in to rub against my hand, letting him watch as my composure shatters.
I moan, trying to push his fingers out with my tongue so I can give him a proper answer, but in response, I only get another pinch on my nipple. A storm of violent pain rakes through me, forcing me to squeeze my thighs once again.
“You can’t fucking talk,” he breathes out, slightly moving his fingers in my mouth. “Mumble.”
I attempt to squeeze again, but he catches that, putting his knee on the couch and pushing it between my legs, blocking the way.
I tremble, my saliva sliding down his fingers, hand, and my chin as he pulls the soul straight from my body, unraveling the last threads of my sanity. A shattered mumble escapes me, wrapping itself around his fingers in trembling echoes.
He nods in approval, twisting my nipple, and the harsh touch, paradoxically, drifts across my skin like a feather compared to the agony he’s brought so far.
“Good. Very good,” he approves. “Maybe I should give you exactly what you want, what do you think?”
I push my hips forward, grinding against his knee, the soft fabric of my kimono lifting and baring my pussy. He looks down at it, his fingers hooking under the edge of it as he reveals more of me.
Dante salivates at the sight, his eyes growing hungrier. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispers as he pushes his knee back, his hand slowly reaching my pussy.
He doesn’t push into my throat, just keeps his fingers in my mouth, the tips of them softly playing with my tongue.
Using it, I play with them, licking and sucking as I unravel more.
Each deliberate movement sparks fire in my core, spreading heat that consumes both me and the surrounding space.
I give in, melting into him, caught between the raw roughness and the fleeting softness he grants.
His hand cups my pussy, warm and steady, as he applies a slight pressure onto it. Slowly, he pulls his fingers out of my mouth, and I nearly whimper at the loss of him. A trail of saliva stretches, painting my skin as he moves his hand down, grabbing my throat before I can move.
“This pussy was so patient,” he says softly while looking at my lips. “I think I need to reward her.”
My mouth opens in a silent scream when he plunges his fingers inside me.
Pulses of raw electricity tear through my nerves, shaking me from the inside out as I can feel my walls tightly wrapping around them.
Curling the tips of them, he hits that spot, and my back arches, surrendering to him completely.
“Cum on them, baby, come on,” he instructs, his voice breathy. “Show me how it feels when I fuck you here, with the shadow of death in the room.”
I can’t put into words the weight his words carry. It’s as if he’s seen every shape, every twisted corner inside me—and he knows exactly how to speak, how to unravel me, to pull out the raw, unfiltered pleasure I usually bury deep.
That sick, perverse satisfaction. The kind only the two of us can truly understand.
Shamelessly, I start grinding against his hand, too high on the pleasure to care about anything else.
Waves of euphoria slam into me, relentless and unyielding, each one striking harder, faster, leaving my body trembling beneath their force.
The throbbing in my pussy surges, growing unbearable, consuming every inch of me.
I have no control over the tremors that rip through my limbs, no anchor except Dante’s hand on my throat, grounding me to this world as I shatter, spilling everything over his fingers.
My scream would crack the windows if he weren’t holding me together. Instead, a ragged sound trembles out of me, my cheeks blazing as my eyes roll in dizzy spirals. Stars scatter behind my lids, color smearing like wet paint as the waves drag me under.
I drift for ages before gravity finds me again, silently wishing it wouldn’t. I’d let myself dissolve in that bliss without a fight. Let it rip me apart, burn me clean, because I’ve never felt anything more real than this.
Dante’s hand vanishes from my throat, leaving a pleasantly burning imprint on my skin. The bruise will be visible in the morning, I know that. And now, all I can think about is how to get more of his marks onto my body.
I’m breathless by the time he pulls his fingers out with a slick sound. My thighs clamp shut, greedily swallowing the crumbs of pleasure. Through my half-mast eyes, I watch him as he brings the fingers to his mouth before he sucks them in, his tongue swirling around and licking my juices off.
The hunger ignites instantly, shooting through me like wildfire. Heat floods my cheeks as I edge closer to the rim of the couch, my eyes flicking nervously to the motionless body sprawled nearby.
“I think,” I begin in a whisper, grabbing the waistband of his sweats and pulling them down along with his underwear. My eyes stay on his while I feel the warmth of his cock against my skin. “It’s time for me to give you a proper reward.”