Chapter 23 #2
“What do you need?” Marcello is all business. I just hope my request will be achievable. What I was asking him for is not child’s play.
“You have connections at Southmore. I need access to an inmate. Bobby ‘One Fist’ Brown.”
The silence on the other side says it all.
“For how long?” Marcello finally answers.
“As long as you can give me.” While I want to say twenty-four hours, I know that won't be possible.
Bobby was being held in the maximum-security wing and was kept isolated from other inmates, the actions associated with his nickname leaving five prisoners dead and nine others in intensive care.
Those who ‘recovered’ usually never went back to prison but were instead sent to the psych ward, his impact on them long-lasting.
Just the man for the job, in my opinion.
“I need some time to arrange. I will call you tomorrow. Keep him alive till then.” Marcello hesitates, not putting the phone down.
“Have you told her?” His concern for Sienna is comforting. If anything ever happened to me, at least Sienna would have someone looking out for her—a very powerful someone.
“Not yet. I will tell her once everything is arranged. If she wants to be involved, she can. If she doesn’t want to, she won’t. I can carry this burden as easily as I can enactrevenge. For her, I would do anything.”
I can almost hear Marcello nodding his head.
“Show him no mercy, mio figlio. ” And with those parting words, the line goes dead.
Indeed. None will be shown as none was shown toward my rainbow when he had a gun to her head and tried to defile her innocence, snuff her light.
I will not see him tonight. If I do, I fear the events I have planned for him will not see the tip of my darkness. Such is my wrath right now. I may end him before we can have our fun.
Gavin appears, tossing me the keys to the car .
“We can finish up here. The vans will be arriving shortly to collect the items. I’ll keep you updated.”
I nod and then head out, eager to escape this house of horrors that makes me want to lose control, something I need to keep in check until the right time.
Since the night I had planned at the warehouse is now on hold, I head back to Requiem. Maybe a session in my home gym will help burn off this restless energy.
The message from Jordan that Sienna had received another anonymous text message didn’t help. I was growing tired of these games. I detested cowards who hid behind others and used them for their own gain. Just get to the fucking point.
He assured me that Sienna was fine. While I should be grateful, the fact that she is, makes me pissed. It indicated that the frequency of things like thisand situations like this was such that she found them easier to handle. She shouldn’t have to handle them at all.
By the time I park my car and get upstairs, I can only think about my rainbow. Instead of a boxing ring calming my emotions, I think she is the balm I need.
So when I open my penthouse door, and the scent of vanilla and pomegranate lingers, I almost think I have conjured it up.
Noise further in tells me that it is not my imagination.
She is here. Finally. In my space like I have dreamed of since first setting eyes on her.
She has walked into a trap, one she cannot escape.
No one has been in here since I moved in.
It is my most private space—a sanctuary for my secrets, where I can be me.
She is standing in my library, her dainty hand gingerly touching the spine of a book.
Obsession by Eloise Benjamin
One of my favorite books by one of my favorite authors .
A title I could relate to.
Mine stands wrapped in a plain black knee-length cotton night dress, her damp hair hanging down her back and wetting the fabric so that it sticks to her skin. Like a pretty present just for me.
She showered here. Thoughts of her lathering her body, rubbing her tits, and that sweet cunt in my space where I had wanked on numerous occasions to just such a visual makes my cock hard.
She turns slowly, and it is only then that I see she has a book in her hands, now tightly held against her chest. Her eyes hop from the contents on my desk to the wall on the other side, dragging around before meeting mine and flaring with surprise.
When my eyes dip down to the book, which I recognize from the little green and red post-its sticking out of the edging alone, her cheeks blaze with embarrassment.
She clutches it tighter, looking away when my gaze once again meets hers.
I lean against the doorframe and cross my arms, waiting for her. She must do this.
Her thoughts rattle around in her over-analytical mind until, finally, her green eyes meet mine again.
“I have a request, Daddy Damon.” Fuck. Her courage flames her cheeks the sweetest red I have ever seen, and I raise my eyebrows in acknowledgment while another part of me readies itself.
This woman was exactly the perfect fucking woman for me.
“I want to try some of these with you.” Spoken so innocently that one would never guess what she was asking unless you saw the title.
Her eyes dip to the book and then back up again, the white of her knuckles as her grasp tightens, telling me how nervous she is.
I push away from the doorframe and slowly stalk towards her, my eyes never leaving hers. Trapped little light with nowhere to go .
“Red or green?” I keep my voice low, husky, stroking the lust I can already smell coming from her. Wet. Ready. Just for me.
“Both?” Her answer is a question, and when I raise an eyebrow, she licks her lips before confidently restating it.
“Both.”
I stalk around her, my suit jacket grazing the skin on her arm, sending goosebumps across her smooth flesh.
When I am behind her, I dip my head close to her ear, her large intake of breath raising her breasts up while the erect peaks graze the material possessively.
The fibers rub against the little nerves, sensitizing them so that when I lean forward over her shoulder and blow, she gives me number one on my list of favorite things—her moan.
“Show me,” I whisper, my lip grazing her earlobe and drawing a shiver from her.
She releases the book from the cage against her chest and flips it open to a green post-it.
I let my hand graze her ass cheek as she flips to another page, a red one.
She nearly drops the book when I squeeze, lifting the cheek and massaging it in a circular motion.
“Continue,” I instruct as she flips through the pages. When both my hands grasp her ass cheeks and the tips of my fingers edge closer to her center, she drops her head back.
“Damon.” My name whispered from her relaxed lips so sensually strokes my ego.
“Continue,” I demand, as my hands edge around her thighs, squeezing and caressing as I bunch the material up.
She is panting, and by the time I move the material out of the way, she is moaning so loudly, and the pages are no longer turning. No matter. I have already memorized every page she marked, noting its color allocation.
When she spreads her legs, and my hand meets with the bare flesh of her sopping pussy, I smile.
“You’re a naughty girl, Sienna. Where are your panties, mmm?” My finger glides through her folds, making her words come out stuttered.
“U-under your pillow.” My grin gets wider.
“Wet like this cunt of yours?” She nods in response, and I slip two digits in, her body shuddering with the intrusion.
“Sopping wet. Like my hand was earlier when I came all over it thinking of you.”
I grip the book with my free hand and toss it on the floor before spinning her around.
“This hand?” I ask, lifting her right hand as she nods.
I raise it slowly, her hooded eyes watching my every move.
“Which fingers?” She turns a deeper shade of red.
“All four.”
When I have her hand by my face, I inhale deeply, the scent of Sienna's most intimate part lingering on the flesh. She waited till after her shower.
With our eyes locked, I put all four fingers into my mouth.
That taste. Fuck, I am a fucking demon for it. My tongue swirls between the digits, sucking and licking her clean.
“Did you fuck those fingers into your pussy thinking of my cock ravaging that hole?”
I know the answer, but I want to hear her say it.
“Yes,” she whispers, nodding slowly as if mesmerized.
“Were you a messy girl?” Fuck, I hope she was.
“Yes. I came all over your duvet.” I smile.
“Show me, Sienna.” Her eyes widen, and then she turns. I follow her to our room, watching the sway of her ass and the way her hips flare before petering off to that beautiful waist made for my grip.
We approach our bed, the covers all messed up and a damp patch from her hair and her pussy making a beautiful painting on the material.
So vivid I could even imagine her lying there and fucking herself with four fingers as she thought of me, screaming my name to walls that have heard no other voice but my own.
She turns to face me, her cheeks still blazing.
“What do you need from me right now, Sienna?”
Our eyes collide, the tension thick.
Sienna's experience with The Reaper had held me back from doing what can only be described as the final act of giving her my soul. And taking hers. To be inside her was the ultimate step of intimacy. It was the literal joining of two people, something I didn’t take lightly with her.
We were already bound in all other aspects.
Emotionally. Spiritually. The trifecta would be the nail in the coffin, binding us for eternities unknown.
She licks her lips, and I can tell she wants the words to come out clearly and confidently, this moment as critical for her as it is for me.
“I need you, Damon. Inside me.” An invitation issued to the devil himself.
One I cannot refuse.