Chapter Twenty-One
Dante
By the time we reach my penthouse, I’m half-mad with worry and desire.
Carrying her inside, I ignore the building’s security and their curious stares, eyeing the dried blood on our clothes. My other soldiers are waiting in the lobby for more orders, but I’m silent. Let Luca handle things tonight, because she’s the only thing that matters now.
The elevator ride is so silent, I almost think she’s fallen asleep. But as the doors slide open, she stirs.
Making my way to the bathroom in my room, I don’t pause.
I’m still holding her in one arm as I use the other to reach inside the shower, turning all the shower heads on full blast. Then, I carefully put her on the counter and begin removing her clothes, starting with her shoes, then her leggings.
As I go to slide her dirty sweatshirt over her head, she seems to be more aware of her surroundings.
“What are you doing, Dante?” she asks, dazedly.
“What does it look like, dolcezza? We need to clean up. I’m covered in blood, and you need to warm up,” I explain patiently as I continue to undress her, removing her bra and underwear. “I’m worried you’re in shock.”
Picking her up again, I carry her into the large, cavernous shower while still in my black cargo pants and shirt, which are covered in dried blood. Carefully, I put her on her feet, making sure she’s stable enough to stand.
“Dante! You’re getting soaked!” She balks, pushing at my shoulder.
“Isn’t that the purpose, bella?” I wink at her, undressing and throwing my soaking clothes outside the shower, not worried about the mess. She’s more important right now than wet clothes and water on my tiled floors.
Turning her to face the multiple shower heads and adjusting them so they aren’t spraying in her face, I pump some soap into my hands and methodically begin to wash her body and her hair.
My shower is stocked with her line of bath products, so soon the relaxing scents of eucalyptus and peppermint envelop us as the room fills with steam.
I kneel, tenderly rubbing her feet, working my way up, massaging first her legs and then her tense shoulder muscles, taking special care as I wash her delicate wrists.
As I rub the lather into her breasts, her tiny nipples pebble and I ache to suck them into my mouth, but getting her warm and clean is far more important than my need to fuck her. My cock, however, doesn’t get the message and is throbbing, long and hard as it bounces against my stomach.
The tiny moans she makes as I turn her, massaging the tense muscles of her back, don’t help my suffering. They are almost my undoing. After I’ve rinsed her hair, she spins, attempting to swap places with me. She doesn’t have much luck as I’m easily two to three times her size.
Chuckling at her attempt to manhandle me, I ask, “You taking charge now?”
She just pouts those beautiful lips and says, “Your turn.” This was meant to be about her, but, damned if I can refuse her anything. So, I surrender to her ministrations.
She cleans my shoulders, reaching high on her toes to rub the soap into my biceps. Lovingly, she cleans my hands. The blood is long gone, but she makes sure each calloused hand is clean and kisses each palm just as I had kissed her wrists when I freed her bonds earlier.
“Try all you want, amore mio, but these hands will never be clean,” I tell her, bending to kiss her head.
“I don’t care, Dante. I know these hands have killed, but I also know they’ve killed for me. They’ve both pleasured me and saved me. Never would I judge you.” She bows her head and leans into my chest, not making eye contact, almost as ashamed.
Grasping her chin, I force her to look up at me, making eye contact. “You think killing him changed anything, amore mio? Made me see you differently?” I hiss, pinning her with my stare. She parts her lips, but I cut her off.
“You’ve ruined me, Evangeline. I probably should have kept you innocent, locked away from my darkness. But,” I say, my voice breaking with want. “…now I can’t decide if I want to worship you or destroy your sweet pussy.”
She bites her plump bottom lip, making me want to choose the latter. But before I can move, she pulls away, dropping to her knees on the wet tile.
I attempt to stop her, but she shakes her head and runs her hands up my thighs, wrapping her tiny hands around my cock.
She strokes it and brings the throbbing tip to her open mouth.
I watch her in amazement and widen my stance, allowing her to lick my hard shaft, letting her explore the length.
When her tongue caresses my balls, lightly sucking, I throw my head back, giving a guttural groan.
Losing what little control I’ve had, I thread my fingers into her scalp, holding her in place.
This woman owns me. Not wanting to come too soon, I loosen my grip, and she licks my tip once again, but this time, attempting to draw my entire length into her mouth.
She gags, her eyes watering, unable to accept all of it.
“Just relax, tesoro. That’s it. Just breathe through your nose,” I encourage her, lovingly stroking her bent head. “You can do it,” I say, pressing her head down so she can take me deeper.
She relaxes with a slight whimper and bobs her head up and down, using long, sucking motions as she does so.
Holy fuck.
I’m sure I’ve never felt such ecstasy. Without a doubt, this is something new to her, but she’s taking my cock like a goddamn pro. It’s so fucking good; I may die right here.
The headlines will read; he died during a blow job in his shower and not by a bullet on the streets as people always thought I would.
My restraint finally breaks, and unable to take anymore, I lift her by her arms off the floor. I drag her up my body and kiss her like a man drowning. Devouring her possessively, not wanting her to even breathe without me.
My need to be one with her is overwhelming.
Evangeline gasps into my mouth, and that desperate little sound nearly shatters me because I ache to mark every inch of her. I want to bury myself so deep she can’t forget who owns her.
My chest is heaving in the humid air of the shower, so I break off the kiss and press my forehead to hers. “You’ll never leave me now,” I whisper. “Even if you try, know I will find you, and I will drag you back to me. You’re mine, Evangeline. Mine until I am dust and long after.”
Her eyes shine with fierce understanding. Just hours ago, this tiny woman was a helpless captive; now she’s something far more dangerous.
“Do you know what you’ve done to me, dolcezza?” I whisper. “You not only saved yourself, but you’ve bound me tighter to you. I’m so fucking proud of you. You’re mine. My queen.”
Her eyes are flooded with tears, but I see the acceptance.
She knows we’re meant to be. My darkness and her innocence woven together by a spell surely cast before we even existed on earth. I was always meant to find her, to protect her, to make her mine.
Picking her up, I stride to the bedroom, not drying off or caring if we are dripping water as I throw her on the bed.
Crawling up her body, I cage her in, looming above her. Then, I take her arms, carefully avoiding her wrists, and place them above her head.
“Do. Not. Move,” I command. “Be as loud as you want, but do not move. Understand?”
She nods, not breaking eye contact.
“Give me your words.”
“I promise I won’t move, Dante. Please ...” she pleads in that sweet voice of hers, and my heart swells. My angel has come so far. From the innocent virgin I took so brutally the first time, to this proud woman who now owns her pleasure.
Using one hand, I run it down her body, starting at her throat then ghosting over a nipple as I reach one breast. She’s squirming, so I know what she wants.
Teasing her, I bow my head and suck the tiny pink tip.
My tongue circles it, then sucks it deeply into my mouth.
At first, just using a light pull, then increasing the pressure.
Finally, biting down on the taut nipple, I raise my head to watch her.
She’s holding back her moans, but I can tell she’s enjoying the brief pain.
“Let me hear you, Evangeline,” I demand, smirking in satisfaction. Deciding to scold her for disobeying, I growl, “Don’t deny me. I know you like the pain, don’t you?”
Once again, she nods.
“What did I tell you?” I pinch her nipple harshly, loving the way her body flushes pink with embarrassment. She arches off the bed, seeking more.
“Yes... yes... I love it. Please … I need you,” she’s trembling now, overcome with need.
“Such a good girl, Evangeline. My good girl. I’m so, so proud of you.”
Sitting back on my heels and grasping the base of my cock, I stroke it from root to tip as she watches me with her hooded eyes full of passion. Taunting her, I continue my strokes as she squirms, desperate longing in her eyes.
“Your pussy aches for this cock, doesn’t it?” I watch as she spreads her legs, being a temptress.
She’s letting me see her sweet, wet pussy. Now, she’s enjoying being the one to tease me. Not surprising, considering she has always been the one in control of this dynamic.
She will always be the one who owns me.
“Yes, Dante... please fill my pussy. I need to feel you inside me.” Her arms are still above her head, but she widens her legs even more. She’s being a brat, knowing the effect she has on me.
I can see the wetness seeping between her ass cheeks onto the sheets.
Cock still in hand, I move to rub the large angry tip on her clit. Slowly circling the little bundle of nerves, I laugh as she locks her legs around me, attempting to pull me closer.
Not able to deny either of us any longer, I grasp both her hips in my firm grip, thrusting inside her tight heat on a long groan.
“Fuck,” I bellow, throwing my head back.
So goddamned good. Like nothing I have ever felt or will feel again in my life.
Her ass is resting on my thighs as I piston her on my cock. I tried making sweet love to her. I tried moving slowly, but my control snapped. Now, it’s fast and hard.
But that’s who I am, and Evangeline knows it. We can do slow and tender later. Right now, it’s about claiming and desire.
Looking down at where we’re joined, I’m hypnotized. Not only can I feel her pussy flutter around my cock, but from this angle, I can see her clenching around me. She’s about to come, so I use my thumb to rub her small clit and lightly pinch it.
She detonates with a loud cry, and it’s fucking beautiful. Watching Evangeline orgasm is one of my favorite phenomena to behold.
It’s as if I’m watching a miracle of nature; she’s so uninhibited and free. Mouth parted, eyes closed, body shaking as she sobs her release.
Feeling like a fucking god because I’m blessed to witness this; I crave to see it over and over again. Forever.
Sharing the moment with her, I finally succumb to my own release, shuddering and violently exploding inside her womb.
When the last tremor runs through me, I collapse on top of her, never having felt so overcome with my emotions.
We’re bound now. Evangeline and myself. By blood, by death, by her poison, and by my violence.
She said in the alley all those weeks ago; it was my spell that brought us together, but I know better.
Evangeline placed a spell on me, bewitched me, bound me to her.
My piccola strega. My little witch.
Not my spell, but hers. And I never want to break free.
THE END