Chapter 16 – Renzo
Chapter Sixteen
Renzo
Ican’t violate my beliefs. Lying in bed next to a sleeping Geralynn, I feel a strange tugging at her heart which troubles me deeply.
I can’t remember the last time I had feelings like this.
My first crush when I was a kid was Gabrielle Union from Bring It On.
Angela watched that movie on fucking repeat when she babysat me and Gino.
I had an obsession with her that I didn’t learn was wrong until I was older.
I figured it out pretty quick. Dad and Uncle Pino introduced me to our family heritage, explaining the history of our people and all the different groups that came to New York over the years.
I needed to understand why I needed to kill before they asked me.
I always did what I was asked, telling myself that if Luigi could do it, so could I.
Where Gino was allowed to be softer, I had to pick up the slack so he wouldn’t suffer our father’s wrath.
I can see clearly now how these experiences shaped me.
I became harsher to survive, not because I wanted to.
It’s not like I disagree with how I was raised.
I suppose I’m just wondering about the future life inside Geralynn and what the hell I’m going to do.
We don’t have to work out the custody agreement until two weeks after our baby’s birth according to the contract. I don’t regret signing it. There’s nothing for me to regret.
What I regret is being in this position with Geralynn.
Over the past two weeks, I’ve become strangely attached to her and I suspect it’s only going to get worse.
I never thought she was particularly beautiful before but…
I can’t stop staring at her now. Only when she sleeps, so she doesn’t notice the shift in my demeanor.
Luckily, she sleeps far more than I need to sleep, so I have plenty of time to dedicate to observing the rise and fall of her ample chest.
My feelings have to disappear. I touch Geralynn’s shoulder and she shudders beneath my touch, but she stays asleep.
I want to touch her more. But it would be more helpful if I reminded myself that Geralynn is not precious just because she’s pregnant, always smells like vanilla and fits perfectly against my chest while we both sleep.
She’s beneath me. She grew up with a predetermined destiny.
Just like Italians have always been destined for greatness, Geralynn has always been destined to scrub toilets.
I don’t want the type of problems that Luigi has, or worse, the problems that Michael brought into his life. I don’t believe the rumors about what happened to his father, but if it’s really true, he sinned greatly to make room for his vice.
Nothing but a vice. That’s why I can’t stop obsessively drawing her.
Or thinking about her. Or even touching her.
I kiss Geralynn’s shoulder gently and she still doesn’t wake up.
Does it even matter if my heart softens to her?
It wouldn’t change her mind. She still sees me as a monster and I suppose I’m not perfect.
It’s hard to be up close to her all the time and not rely on her for her warmth.
I feel outraged by the idea that anyone could suggest that Geralynn doesn’t belong to me, or that she can’t. My seed grows inside this sleeping woman. My cock stiffens as I stroke her arm, enjoying the moments of tenderness while she sleeps.
Once she awakens from this little nap I pretended I would take with her, I’ll unleash as much torture as a pregnant woman can handle. Nicki warned me several times after Geralynn’s first doctor’s appointment that excessive stress might cause Geralynn to terminate the pregnancy.
Neither Geralynn or myself have any desire to return to captivity as part of my sister’s demented “breeding program”. I hope this pregnancy remains firmly implanted. But that means allowing myself more closeness to Geralynn than I would have ever allowed myself.
I prevented my instincts from leading me here with a long-term pattern of cruelty towards Nicki’s chubby, Black best friend.
Nicki fucked with the most important part of my consciousness that mediates my self-control and she feels well justified because she made a so-called oppressed person a millionaire.
My sister is the definition of a liberal nut job.
I can’t judge her too harshly. Geralynn provokes me to constant mental unrest, especially as she carries my baby with no interest in clinging towards me at all once she gives birth.
She openly fantasizes about separating the longer we spend together.
The longer we spend together, the more deeply dependent I feel on her presence. I can’t sleep without her, even if the contract allows us to sleep in separate beds. I pretend that it’s because I distrust Geralynn, but it’s not.
Her full-figured body shifts on the mattress and she turns over onto her back.
A surge of arousal travels straight through me.
My cock throbs powerfully against my sweatpants.
I trained myself for years to fixate exclusively on my attraction to a particular frail runway body type.
It’s easy with social media to soak up images of half-clothed women nipped and tucked into one particular appearance.
Without so much access to technology and with only access to Geralynn’s all-natural, discernibly soft flesh…
my desires feel both more primal and more of my own.
I feel this suppressed desire for both breeding a woman in general and a specific body type with ample curves in the most so-called imperfect places.
Geralynn squeals if I put my hand on her tummy chub while she’s awake, but the rolls in her stomach get me instantly hard when I touch them.
She oozes fertility and decadence equally. There’s something quietly graceful about her that I forced myself to feel disgusted by. Her ass is so outrageously large that my dick pulses desperately with the desire to put my cum somewhere else aside from Geralynn’s soaked pussy.
Now that we know for sure Geralynn is pregnant, I can turn my attention to her back door and those perfect ass cheeks.
Her body just makes it so fucking difficult to stay annoyed with her, even when she purposefully tries to get under my skin or rejects me with such fury that it almost threatens my masculinity.
Geralynn lets out a soft noise that’s halfway between a snore and a sleepy moan. My cock jerks against my sweatpants again. I need to fight this. I might indulge this fantasy about putting my dick in her ass, but I need to take my emotions out of the equation.
I can’t have her. But a lingering thought stays in my head.
Breaking the rules. Is it possible that I can’t go on like this?
That I have to break the rules? I want more than what Luigi has.
More than what Michael has as the under boss.
Dad might accept his mixed race grandchildren now, but considering the depth of our family traditions, this might affect Luigi’s legacy in the long-term.
Didn’t my father encourage me to think of my legacy? Being born somewhere in the middle doesn’t mean I’m useless or too irrelevant for family duty. I went to Italy and studied our history to prepare for a life that doesn’t involve ending up with… a Black woman.
I feel like I’ve punched myself in the gut from even allowing the thought to linger. She’s not just a Black woman. Or a janitor. She’s… too much for me. Too much for anyone. But it’s strangely addictive to win her approval in the rare moments that I do.
“What if I wanted something different?” I whisper. “What if I’m done with the old rules, Geralynn?”
She doesn’t wake up. My heart races. I’ll wake her up soon, taking advantage of her deep sleep to confess what I can’t possibly say to this sleeping woman’s face.
“What if I want to keep you and change… everything…”
Geralynn flips over on her stomach and I have to do everything in my power to stop myself from acting prematurely on her ass cheeks while they stick out and beckon to me.
It truly disturbs me how large her ass cheeks are.
It’s incredible to think that such a big ass could sit on her frame.
She has some belly fat and chubbiness to her, but still, Geralynn has a genuinely impressive ass.
My hand wanders over and I squeeze some of the flesh, still careful not to wake her.
My cock jerks forward. I knock my copy of The Love Hypothesis off the nightstand, creating as loud of a noise as possible to wake Geralynn. She makes a sleepy, frustrated whining sound and then she opens one sleepy eye.
“Are you up?”
“What do you want?” she groans, yawning and shutting her eyes again, clearly mistaken about my desire to allow her anymore sleep.
I run my hand over Geralynn’s ass cheeks while she’s fully conscious, putting my possessive desires to claim her completely on display.
Her eyes snap open as she gazes up at me with that signature expression of disgust and incredulity she saves for me.
“This is what I want.”
“I’m pregnant and sleepy, Renzo. I need to sleep.”
And I need to feel those thick fluffy angel cake ass cheeks wrapped around my dick.
Only one of us can get what we want right now and it’s going to be me.
I need to make two things happen at once – get my dick wet in Geralynn’s tight satiny backdoor and push her away from me emotionally by torturing her the second she wakes up from her peaceful sleep.
My feelings for her are beyond complicated right now. She closes her eyes again as if hinting that I should leave her alone and allow her to sleep. I raise a palm precariously over Geralynn’s ass cheeks and land a hard slap on the jiggly mound of flesh tempting my most sadistic urges.
She flies out of bed, armed with her pillow and righteous indignation.