Chapter 11
Diesel
“B everly Hills, huh?” I smiled to myself as I walked into the empty house, feeling absolutely at ease even though I had just broken into this place. With my hands shoved in my jacket pockets and a raised brow, I checked out the place. It was dull and boring, not at all what I’d expect from my Llorón but definitely how I’d imagine Jordan’s house—plain walls and expensive-looking furniture that compensated with quality over what they lacked in taste. I even spotted a gaming console in the living room, which made sense as I imagined Jordan to be the type to like that shit.
Although I wasn’t here for Jordan but for Shay-Lee. To be more accurate, I came here to punish the brat after he dared to wear my gift while fucking— shit . I couldn’t even bring myself to think about it. The idea of another man having his hands over what was mine drove me nuts, which was probably why what I planned on doing made perfect sense in that sick head of mine. Yet, despite being limited on time, I didn’t hurry to go straight to the bedroom and first looked around the house. It definitely didn’t feel like Shay-Lee was living here, until I reached his closet. The high-couture clothes perfectly hung in glass closets with golden frames practically screamed his name, and I grinned before getting closer. I dragged my fingers along the clothes, feeling the shift of textures from one item to the other as I walked farther down his huge closet.
While I wondered where he’d gotten all these new clothes from, my eyes locked on a white suit, and I pulled it out to examine it up close. It reminded me of what he’d worn the first time we met at the Notte Oscura, when he looked like a god. My chest tightened with longing, and I put the suit back before I continued snooping. Opening a few drawers, I saw his watch collection, then a bunch of other jewels that shone so bright they nearly blinded me. He was always flashy with his money. I often found this quality in rich people obnoxious, but Shay-Lee made it cute. I was ready to close the drawer when I noticed a small black box. Curious, I took it out only to see it had a lock on. Twisting my lips, I debated if I should try and open it before deciding to move on. Putting the box back in place, I closed the drawer and went to find what I had come here for.
“Lucky me.” I grinned when I tracked the notable lingerie placed in its box. Looking inside, I noticed my note was missing. He probably tore it apart. Moving my fingers along the items, I bit my lip, then grabbed the lace thong. Fisting it in my hand, I brought it to my face and shamelessly pressed it to my nose. Shay-Lee’s scent was strong and vivid, overcoming the reek of sex. Yeah, I knew how sex smelled, and it was just that— filthy . The scent went straight to my cock, and I groaned with frustration that Shay-Lee wasn’t here because all I wanted was for him to sit on my face and ride me until it went fucking numb. My need to have him, own him , as I once had fumed inside me like lava, so much that it was hard to contain my lust. Clenching the thong harder in my fist, I glanced over my shoulder at the door leading to his bedroom. Without thinking twice, I strolled over there and jumped on their bed. Yeah, this was the bed my Llorón shared with his new lover, which made what I was about to do next a whole lot better. With one hand, I unzipped my pants and pulled out my throbbing length. I was already rock hard as I brought the thong to wrap around my dick. But what was the point if I was the only one to enjoy this moment? Using my other hand, I took out my phone. Making myself comfortable on the bed, I opened the camera and chose video. Hitting Record, I smirked, ready to give Shay-Lee a taste of his own sweet medicine.
Shay-Lee
Deep silence surrounded the conference room as Vito sat at the head of the table with a sour face. He was clearly displeased with the variety of ideas the team had pitched him thus far, and I could understand why. They all sucked. Sitting at the side because I wasn’t a part of the head designer team (for now), I kept my mouth shut while fighting hard against the urge to roll my eyes. This meeting was a disaster, and I couldn’t wait for it to end. It was already evening, so not only was I hungry because I’d foolishly skipped lunch, but I was also tired. Knowing Jordan had classes till late today, I’d have to order takeout, which meant I’d have to choose what I was hungry for, and I had no idea—
“Shay-Lee, what do you think about this?” Vito asked in his strong Italian accent that snapped me out of my head.
For a moment, I was locked under his penetrating stare, which was quite unique, thanks to his heterochromia. While one of Vito’s eyes was blue, the other was pitch-black.
Getting a hold of myself, I looked at the vision board. “Pastels? If we wish to be predictable, why not go for florals, too?” I said, unable to hold in my snort.
Mila, the designer who pitched the idea, glared at me just as Vito burst out laughing. “That is correct, Bello !” He clapped his hands, and all the designers but me shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. Despite being a tiny man, Vito’s personality took up most of the space in the room, making it hard not to be intimidated.
“So, does anyone have an idea that won’t make people say Vito Renieri lost his charms and is recycling overused clichés?” he snarled, addressing the silent room.
Looking around, I saw that no one seemed to be willing to speak, so I did. “What about cultural summer?”
Vito turned to look at me, his eyes narrowed. “ Elaborare .”
I smiled. It was always funny when he switched to Italian. “I mean, every culture celebrates summer in a different way. Greece, Japan, Colombia… all have beautiful festivals. Why not use them as inspiration? Something like a trip around the world.”
Vito’s smile grew before he turned back into the room. “See? This is what I am talking about.” He then pointed at his personal assistant, who he changed on a monthly basis. “Make sure to write it down,” he ordered, then switched to Italian while speaking way too fast for a normal human to catch up with him.
Amused, I looked down at my sketchbook. The only reason I joined this meeting was in the hope of catching a few spare minutes with Vito to go over my ideas with him. He was extremely kind to me, and I often wondered if it was because of my past. After all, he knew my father like most people had. In fact, he’d even designed a suit for him once. I still remembered that day as if it was only yesterday. We were in our summer mansion in Lake Como and were getting ready for an event when my father decided my clothes were inappropriate— too seductive . Those were his precise words. As if to prove his point, he began stripping me out of them, not showing a bit of mercy despite my constant begging. He had me naked and on my knees when Orson informed him Vito had arrived with his new suit. And even though it only delayed my punishment, at that moment, I was thankful for Vito’s timing.
I was only fifteen when it happened.
My phone buzzed, distracting me from thinking about that time, and I pulled it out to check the message, not surprised to see it was from Camilo.
I still haven’t saved his number.
He hadn’t texted me back after I sent him that picture of Jordan and me last night, and I knew it was only a matter of time before he would. Looking around the room, everyone was back to pitching ideas, so I took the opportunity to check the message. My brows pulled into a frown when I saw he’d sent a video, and foolishly, I hit Play. At first, I had no idea what I was seeing, as the film was blurry, but then it focused on a very big, very erect—
“Motherfucker!” I jumped to my feet without realizing I’d just shouted in the middle of the conference room. With all eyes on me, I stood there, rooted to the floor with my phone in hand. Thankfully, I had enough sense to pause the video before others could get a glimpse of Camilo’s not-so-little gift .
“ Bello , is everything alright?” Vito asked with a worried expression.
Smiling like an idiot, I rubbed the back of my head. “Y-yeah. It’s my dog.”
What the fuck? I don’t even have a dog.
“Your dog?” Vito narrowed his eyes at me, and I nodded.
“Y-yes. He ate something bad, and now he’s dead.”
The room gasped, and I quickly waved my hand. “Don’t worry. I didn’t like it. Him . I mean, it was a boy. Anyway—”
Taking a deep breath, Vito frowned at me. “Shay-Lee, Bello , are you alright?”
No . My ex just sent me a video of himself jerking off on my bed. I might have only seen a glimpse from the video, but I’d seen enough to know it was filmed from my fucking bed.
“Yes,” I lied. “But I’m afraid I have to go.”
Vito still looked a bit stunned but nodded. “Of course, you can leave.”
Without wasting time, I grabbed my things and snuck out of the room. Not even stopping at my office to take the rest of my stuff, I ran straight to my car. Only once the doors were locked behind me did I dare to pull out my phone and play the video.
Holding the black lace thong in his hand, the one I wore yesterday when Jordan fucked me, Camilo wrapped it around his hard cock and used it to stroke himself. He smoothly moved his fist along his shaft, giving himself long, lazy strokes from the root of his cock all the way to the tip. My mouth dried at the sight, and I bit on my bottom lip, unable to look away as he increased his pace. He gripped himself harder, the muscle in his arms tensing as he worked his dick, pumping it in his tight fist, the lace standing out against his masculine hand. Just then, my phone automatically connected to my car’s Bluetooth, and Camilo’s heaving breaths surrounded me. My skin grew hot underneath my clothes while my cock pressed hard against my zipper, making it incredibly uncomfortable to sit. My hand moved on its own to my lap, but I resisted touching myself. I still had the common decency not to jerk off in my workplace parking lot. Yet, not enough to stop this damn video, that was only getting hotter by the minute. The dark crown of his cock peeked out from behind the lace fabric as precum wetted the tip. I licked my lips, almost able to taste it, when suddenly, he spoke.
“If only you were here to take this cock.” His deep, gravelly voice broke through my car’s speaker and went straight to my needy dick. “He misses your pussy , kitten, so fucking much.” My throat dried before a low moan escaped me, and feeling like I was losing my mind, I paused the video. Only once the noises stopped did I realize I was heaving. Well, with how fast my heart was pumping blood into my rigid cock, it wasn’t a surprise. Swallowing hard, I put my phone aside while ignoring my raging boner, then switched my car to Drive. Without thinking twice, I sped out of there, heading home. My heart was on a hundred the whole ride, and my dick didn’t calm down, not even for a second. In my head, I could still hear the sound of his deep groans and see the veins traveling along his perfect cock. The perfect cock I used to ride, fuck, and suck and couldn’t stop dreaming about.
Gritting my teeth, I clenched the steering wheel harder, thinking about how I’d cut Camilo’s dick off before I’d murder him because that was exactly what I was about to do. This fucker . Breaking into my house and doing this on my bed? How dare he? At that moment, the only thing stronger than my arousal was my rage. My knuckles turned numb around the steering wheel, and I could hardly hold myself together until I reached home. I didn’t bother to properly park my car and instead dashed out of it. Running the steps leading to the house, I slammed the door open.
“Camilo!” I roared his name, half hoping he was still here so I could have my way with him. “Where are you, you shameless fucker!” Stomping through the halls, I made my way to my bedroom, my vision red with anger. “Come here so I can cut off that dick of yours and feed it to you,” I spat as I opened the door to my bedroom to find it— empty .
Still holding the door handle, I stood in place and looked at my perfectly made bed. There wasn’t a thing out of order, but the lingerie lay on the white sheets, waiting just for me. My fingers lost their grip on the handle, and I took a step toward the bed, then another one and another until my legs hit the mattress. Looking down, I gulped, my heart rate lowering. It was at this moment that I made a decision and gave in to my needs. Getting rid of my jacket, I then took off my shirt and tossed it on the floor. Untucking my pants, I pushed them down my thighs before kicking them off together with my boxer briefs until I was left naked. With my cock so hard it was painful, I reached down and grabbed the stockings from the bed. I slid them up my calves, the same as I did yesterday. Only now, it was Camilo’s hands I imagined touching me. Once I was done with them, I put on the garter belt, then the lace harness and choker. Keeping the thong for last, I first brought it to my face. It reeked of sex and was a bit stiff from dry cum. Fuck did I want to lick it and taste his cum, but instead, I wore it before moving to pick up my phone from the floor. While doing so, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. There, staring back at me from the other side of the room, was my old self. I felt so pathetic with how desperate I was. Humiliated by how deeply I craved him. And yet, my pride had nothing on the lust that burned within me at that moment, so unable to stop myself, I grabbed my phone and lay down on my bed. Hitting Play, I watched it right from the beginning, this time with my hand grabbing my dick. Slipping my cock from underneath the lace, I stroked myself at the same rhythm Camilo had, matching his pace while imagining it was his hand on me. My heavy breath mixed with his own, making it almost feel like he was here. And even though I wanted to close my eyes and allow the pleasure to take over me, I couldn’t bear to look away from the screen.
But just touching my cock wasn’t enough, and I was losing my mind because I needed more. Rubbing myself faster, I squeezed my length harder, but nothing. I was still far from satisfied. Turning to my stomach, I placed the phone beneath me before I got on my knees. Then, while propped up on one arm, I spat into my hand and moved it to my ass, stroking my needy hole with two fingers and coating it with my saliva.
“If only you were here to take this cock. He misses your pussy , kitten, so fucking much.”
I moaned as I slipped my fingers in, imagining it was his dick pushing inside me, filling me like only he knew how to do. My cock throbbed, and I pressed my forehead against the mattress as my lips parted with a throaty groan. I focused back on the video just in time to catch the parts I didn’t get to see earlier. Camilo gripped his cock almost viciously as he stroked himself fast, his huge dick pulsing in his tight fist. I pushed my fingers as deep as I could, not caring I didn’t have lube as I loved the way it burned. The lingerie itched against my skin, but nothing stopped me from pleasuring myself harder.
The need to touch my dick became unbearable, so I shifted to lie on my back, legs bent, and continued to fuck against my finger at the same time I was stroking my dick. My balls tightened when Camilo swore under his breath, and I turned my head to watch him in the video as he exploded in his fist, cum soaking through the thong I was currently wearing. My muscles weakened, and I lost my rhythm just when I, too, came so hard my vision blurred. I continued to finger myself through my release, not stopping until my dick was absolutely drained and dry. Only then did I pull them out and slump my head back on the mattress. I was weary—fucking wrecked from this intense orgasm that had hit me like a truck.
But as the minutes passed and my breath calmed, my adrenaline wore off together with my lust, and with both out of the way, I could focus on how furious I was. This time, it wasn’t Camilo I was angry with but myself because I knew I was starting to fall for his game. And what was better proof of this tragedy if not a wrecked lace thong soaked with the traces of our still very much burning passion?