10. Gianna
CHAPTER 10
His fingers burn my cheeks, and it doesn’t matter that I’m supposed to hate him. I never want him to stop touching me. I should be angry with him for stalking me, disgusted with these pictures and the way he invaded my life, but all I feel is flattered, cherished, and turned on, knowing that when I was having shitty sex with assholes, someone else was suffering beside me.
And he knows what happened to Dante.
He didn’t do it, and part of me always feared he had, and I can’t explain why my brother's killer meeting justice means so much more to me than my parents’. I can’t explain why I loved Dante so much more than either of them.
Maybe I’m crazy, maybe I’m traumatized, but these things warm my heart like poems and love letters might for a girl less fucked in the head than me.
We were never meant to be together. We should have hated one another from the start, but Niko has always thought of me. More than those who were allowed to love me, supposed to. The only other person who ever stood up to my father for my benefit was Dante.
“Please, Niko. Tell me.”
There’s such conflict in his gray gaze, and it doesn’t seem like a power play when he shakes his head.
“Why the hell not? I deserve to know.” Hot tears spill over my lashes, and my lip quivers. I feel like a damn idiot, but I’m not above begging. I’ll do anything for the information he doesn’t want to give me. He pulls my face closer to his.
“Princess.” The soft way he says the nickname pulls a deeper set of sobs out of me. “I do not want to hurt you. You don’t deserve to know. Dante is gone and wouldn’t want you to suffer.” He runs a finger up and down my cheek, and there’s true sorrow in his gaze.
“He’d want me to know the truth,” I insist, but from the look in Niko’s eyes, I'm not sure he would. Dante always wanted to protect me.
“No, I knew your brother well enough to know he wouldn’t. He loved you.”
There’s a sinking in my chest, a sense that whatever he knows will turn what’s left of my world to dust. Am I even strong enough to take that?
“Dante is dead. It doesn’t matter what he wants. I’ll do anything if you just tell me.”
I drop to my knees in front of him, fingers tangled in supplication. I stare up at him. He’s so tall I have to crane my neck to see him, and instead of using my words, I return some of his silent communication and beg with my eyes, plead for him to do something to alleviate my suffering.
He looks over me with cool detachment, but I’d have to be blind not to notice his cock getting hard when it’s right in front of my face. He places his hand beneath my chin, tips my face side to side.
“I wouldn’t beg like a pet if you don’t want to be put on a leash, Gianna. You’re giving my self-control far too much credit.” A finger trails my neck, and his hand fits around my throat like a collar. He squeezes until my head goes fuzzy from blood loss, but I can breathe the whole time.
“Put me on a leash. Do whatever you want to me. I don’t give a fuck, so long as you tell me what happened to my brother.”
Any remaining pity leaves his gaze. He squeezes my throat, his nostrils flare. I’ve fucking got him. He wants me enough to bargain for it. Or maybe he just wants to humiliate me. Either way, I couldn’t care less.
“You don’t mean that. You’ve never been one to behave.”
“I do. I’ll do whatever you want if you tell me.”
“Take some time to think about what you’re asking me.”
“I don’t want time to think. I want answers.”
“I have work to do. I want you to go wash all the blood off yourself, and then I want you to come back here, kneel in front of me, and beg me to treat you like my pretty pet.”
My cheeks burn, but I surprise us both by not arguing.
“I’ll tell you if you do whatever I want while you’re on that leash.”
The offer takes a minute to sink in, and I wish I could say I wasn’t interested for more than one reason, but I am. I want the truth, but I also want whatever this intensity is Niko is offering me. I turn and leave the room before I lose my nerve.
I was in shock after killing Antonine, and finding those pictures certainly didn’t help my mental clarity. If I had the presence of self, I already would have washed this shit off me. Niko’s intense reaction really has me skeeved out. I don’t want diseases that will make my life even more unpleasant.
I get in the shower, washing myself as thoroughly as possible. I need to get clean, and I’m not sure I want to run back to Niko. The stalking has me oddly flattered; the care he’s put into everything he’s gotten for me, even him not blaming me for defending myself, all soften me toward him.
But what the fuck am I doing? Washing myself to willingly give him my body. What’s wrong with me that I could look at him with anything but contempt? Why am I wet instead of distraught?
I’m doing this for Dante. I tell myself with an emphatic resolve that relieves the worst of my guilt. My parents would forgive me at least a little bit for sleeping with the enemy if it would give us the truth about Dante. Wouldn't they?
I get out of the shower, grab a terry robe, and don’t bother getting dressed any further since I know exactly what Niko wants from me, and clothes aren’t needed. I can’t explain to God or myself why I’m hot and needy as I prepare to be used by him but every step I take back toward his office strokes my swollen clit.
Thoughts of him killing my parents slip further from my mind with the promise of answers about Dante so close. The promise of sex makes me feel connected to the present instead of miserably lost in the past. The fuzziness floating through my belly from him choking me and those pictures clouds my judgment.
I head back to his office and turn bright red when I find him scrubbing the blood off the surfaces with some industrial-grade disinfectant wipes.
“I’m just finishing up,” he tells me with unmistakable exasperation. “But I need a shower too now. So if you’re serious, I’d like you to kneel there and wait without the robe.”
He slides me a glare that tells me he clearly has something to say about his precious stalker pictures. I want to roll my eyes, but that’s not what I’m here for. I’m here to prove I can be a good pet and find out who killed my brother.
I remove the fabric and drop to the floor, where he said.
“I’m sorry it took so long for you to clean up. I really wasn’t trying to make things harder on you.” His eyes snap to mine. He opens his mouth to speak but says nothing. “You look tired. Can I help you?”
“Tired?” He blinks. “Help me? What are you talking about?”
“Pets worry about their owners, don’t they? Or would you rather I just bark?”
There’s an unmistakable flash of disappointment on his face before he controls and covers it.
“Do you regret what you did to my things?” he asks as he steps toward the door.
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
“You won’t like the truth. How about I just lie pretty?” I cock my head to the side and flirt with him. It’s so easy, too easy. All the blood splashes in my head are spreading, hiding the bodies beneath them. I’m lucky if I remember myself.
“I’d rather you be honest so I can teach you to do better. Wait here and don’t move. I have cameras, so I’ll be able to tell.”
He’s taunting me, and I know it. He doesn’t think I can do this, or maybe he wants me to fight. He thinks he won’t need to keep his promise, that I can’t uphold my end.
His hand is on the door when I say, “I’m not sorry about what I did, but I assume I’ll have to make it up to you when you get back.”
The door closes, and I wait, and wait, and wait. I fall asleep on my knees waiting for him.
“Gianna, look at me.”
I snap awake, my chin resting on my chest, and a snore catches in the back of my throat.
I do as he said. He’s so fucking beautiful with his hair damp, wearing a fresh button-down and slacks. He’s my first love. He’s my parents' killer. He’s years of love and hate and pain rolled into one person, and looking at him is like my life ending. Like death and a rebirth.
“You’re the one who looks tired,” he accuses, but I don’t answer because everything about him is too tender right now. “You waited.”
I nod. He’s so much taller than me from this position, and it’s like looking up at a god. I don’t ever remember being this infatuated with him. I loved him at seventeen, and I loved what we could have been for years after, but this obsession that’s developed since he took me is a separate entity, insane and consuming. It's a fist around my heart urging me to do anything to please him.
“Are you going to be good for me?”
And it’s not a lie when I say, “Yes.”
He steps away and pulls something out of a drawer in his desk. It takes me a second to realize the leather straps are a collar and leash.
“I’m not wearing some shit you used on other people, Niko.”
He returns to stand in front of me and pinches my lower lip hard.
“I thought you were going to be a good pet, Gi? The pigs out back are better behaved.”
I turn an extra shade brighter red, and I consider punching him in the balls. I might kill him and feed him to said pigs if I get the chance, but one look at him and I know I can’t. I need him.
“Are you trying to humiliate me?” I ask with a gasp. I’m soaking wet, my body begging for him to degrade and fuck me. I can’t make sense of his mood swings. I never could.
“What, like it’s hard?” He dangles the leather, letting it swing in front of my face.
“I don’t want to wear your used kink gear, please,” I try to adjust my tone, but I already know my request is too opinionated to fit the deal we made.
He grabs my face again and holds me tight. “Are you jealous at the thought of me fucking other women?”
“And if I am?”
He smiles the first real smile I’ve seen since he took me.
“I’ll enjoy giving you a taste of your own medicine. Now hold still.”
He straddles me with his forearms, pinning my upper arms as he puts the collar around my throat and tightens it. I’m sick at the idea of wearing something he used with other women, and I continue to struggle as he clips a lock in place and attaches the leash.
Once it’s secure, he climbs off, both our breaths coming heavy. At least I made it hard for him. My satisfaction turns to regret as soon as he yanks me, tugging me off my knees and onto my hip. The collision aches in my joint, but before I can recover from the pain, he smacks my exposed ass with vicious force.
“It’s not used kink gear. Have a little faith in me. No person or dog has worn this but you, pretty little bitch.”
He yanks the leash again, forcing me onto my hands and knees. Another hard tug and I have no choice but to crawl or be dragged along. So I scurry behind him. My ass sways as I move, and even though he can’t see it, the provocative position demeans me and makes me even more desperate, that I want him to look and he won’t. I’m not even a whore, just his pet.
He takes his place in his chair, curling the leash around his hand until it’s tight to the collar and my throat, and I don’t have an inch to move. He pulls his cock out of his pants and strokes it a few times, drawing it from mostly hard to dripping before he touches it to my lips.
“If I didn’t want you so bad, I’d tell you to fuck off right now.”
“Is this about your pictures? You seem more pissed than you did before.”
“Pets don’t ask questions. Now suck.”
I sweep my tongue across the head and try to ignore how good he feels on my tongue. Why does his cum taste good?
“I said suck, not lick.” He bends over quick as lightning and slaps me on my bare ass. I squeal but don’t complain, sure that pets don’t say “fuck off.”
I wrap my lips around him, applying the pressure he asked for, and he groans as he grabs the back of my head and shoves me onto his cock as hard as possible. I gag, tears springing to my eyes before the saliva pools in my mouth.
My throat struggles to dislodge him, but he holds me down until I can’t breathe. My fingers tingle. Lights burst into my vision. Eventually, he relents, pulling me off his cock, the pressure of the leash around my throat an extra element to the intensity of the sensation. I gag on nothing as I try to catch my breath.
He smiles as he holds the leash above my head, forcing me to dangle. I grab his knees to take the worst of the pressure, and he swats them away.
“What the fuck did I do that you’re this upset?”
“I already told you pets don’t ask questions.” He slaps my tit with his free hand and watches as it shakes.
Another smack and all I can think about is him playing with my nipple. I’m so sensitive, so desperate.
“Pets also don’t ask how you are. Some fucking idiot might confuse that for affection.” He says it like a filthy word.
Did I, did I hurt his feelings?
“That person would have to be an idiot after everything he’s done.”
His cock is in my mouth before I finish pronouncing the final syllable. I dig my nails into his cloth-covered knees as he shoves himself so deep in my throat my nose rests in his pubes. I’d pay good money for him to smell bad, but he’s clean and manly, and his grunts are everything as he uses me.
“You’re right. I am a fucking idiot.”
He savagely pumps in and out of my throat. His hips twitch sporadically, and those unconscious movements, more than anything else, make me crazy. I suck harder, even though he’s fucking my throat because I want more. His groans are everything, and I need more of them. I start sucking him hard, taking over for him.
Instead of letting me, he yanks the leash, pulling me back and off his cock. The suction as he leaves my mouth makes a wet pop. I stare into his eyes but don’t struggle for his cock like I want.
“Pretty little pet?”
He waits for my response, just another excuse to debase and embarrass me.
“Yes, Master.”
“Are you ready to be perfectly still while I fuck your throat? Relax while I come as deeply inside you as I can?”
I want his dick so bad I just nod. He pulls me back to his cock by the leash and tangles his free hand in my hair. I relax while he fucks into my throat, and even when I feel like I could puke, I don’t fight it. There’s intense serenity in surrendering wholly to his pleasure.
His eyes lock with mine, and I’m his completely as he groans long and low, coming as far down my throat as he possibly can. I don’t even taste his release until he pulls his cock out of my mouth, and I take a deep breath.
He touches my face. “There’s a good girl in there somewhere.” He pulls me off the ground, puts me on the desk in front of him, and removes the leash. His fingers slide up and down my pussy, and I wait for him to undo the collar.
“I’d like to eat this for you.”
“Are you asking?”
“This time.”
I consider saying no, but I want it, and the repercussions of disobeying last time weren’t worth it. I’m weighing my options when I reach up trying to get the collar off myself and instead find a locked padlock. My eyes widen in shock and fear.
“Niko, what the fuck?”
“The collar stays on for now.” He sounds almost bored.
“We had a deal!” I shout at him, fury coursing through my veins. “You said you’d tell me what happened to my brother!”
“I will tell you, Gi. When I take the collar off. So long as you behave while you’re wearing it. I just never said how long that might be.”
It’s like he’s slapped me across the face, and I’d prefer it if he had.
“I hate you.” And I do hate him so fucking much for making me think this was something it’s not. That we were something we’re not. I tear at the collar until my skin is torn beneath it, and he just watches.
“Too bad you drank my cum, then.”