31. Dante #2
“Oh, please. Your sister didn’t care about rights when she was on her knees, begging to suck my dick.
And she certainly didn’t complain when I bent her over and fucked her until she couldn’t walk straight.
” I ground his face harder into the rug until he gasped in pain.
“Melissa cried when I was done with her, not because I hurt her but because she knew no other man would ever satisfy her again.”
His body trembled with rage beneath me, but his hips shifted against the ground, seeking friction and relief from his erection.
“You’re fucking lying,” Jace spat.
He thrashed under me with renewed strength. “She trusted you, and you used her to get to me.”
“Of course I did. You deserve to suffer, and what better way to do that than using her to hurt you?”
“You’re a fucking monster,” Jace spat, his voice breaking.
I chuckled in dark amusement. “And yet here you are, hard as a rock while I tell you exactly how I ruined your sister. What does that say about you?”
His body went rigid beneath me. He tried to speak but could only manage a choked sound of denial as his hips betrayed him with another involuntary thrust against the floor.
“I wonder if it runs in your family,” I purred, grinding my hips harder against his ass. “That desperate need to be dominated. To be taken. To be used until you’re nothing but a quivering mess of pleasure and shame.”
“Shut the fuck up,” he growled, but his voice cracked.
“Maybe I should use this opportunity to fuck the homophobia right out of you.” I shifted my weight, grinding my hips against his ass.
“Wouldn’t you enjoy that? Finding out what Shaw pays thousands for?
What your precious sister begged me for?
I’ll fuck you right here on the floor, where no one would hear you scream, except maybe Shaw if he hasn’t left yet. Should we call him in to join us?”
His struggling intensified as his breathing became faster and shallower while he ground his arousal against the floor with increasing urgency.
“I could make you feel so good you’d forget to hate yourself afterward,” I murmured, cruel and deliberate.
“You’d be surprised how many straight men cry with pleasure when I’m done with them.
They always come back for more, desperate and ashamed.
Is that what you’re afraid of? That you’d like it too much? ”
“You’ll regret this,” he snarled.
“Look at you,” I purred, letting my voice drop to that velvet tone I used on paying clients. “Fighting so hard while your cock betrays you. You want this.”
“Fuck you. I don’t want anything from you,” he gasped, but the undercurrent of need in his voice betrayed him as he pushed back against me.
I laughed low in my throat. “Bullshit. I could make you come without even touching your cock. Without even taking off your clothes.”
His entire body shuddered beneath me. “Stop,” he moaned, the word somewhere between protest and plea.
I increased my pace, grinding harder. “Your cock doesn’t want me to stop. Your body knows what it needs, even if your brain won’t admit it.”
A choked sound escaped him as his resistance crumbled. There was no denying he was actively frotting against the floor now.
“Listen to those sounds you’re making,” I murmured. “You can feel that pressure building at the base of your spine, can’t you? The heat spreading through your groin. Your cock throbbing, desperate for release.”
He bit back a moan, but his body betrayed him with another thrust against the floor in search of friction.
“You can feel it, can’t you?” I whispered against his ear. “How close you are. How your balls are tightening. How every nerve ending is screaming for relief.”
His movements grew more frantic. It wouldn’t take much more to push him over the edge. I considered stopping when he was right on the edge, but I wanted the bigot to come, to prove he wanted what he claimed to hate so much.
“I bet you’ve thought about this,” I taunted softly, pressing more of my weight against him. “Late at night, when you’re alone in your bed, touching yourself while imagining my hands on you as my cock pounds you from behind.”
“No,” he gasped, but his denial lacked conviction as his hips kept moving.
“You say that, but you’re fucking the floor with the desperation of a horny teenager about to come in his pants.”
His breathing turned shallow, his movements erratic.
“That’s it,” I encouraged. “Give in to what you really want. Come for me, Jace. I want you to come while thinking about me.”
Jace’s entire body tensed beneath me, a choked cry escaping his throat as he shuddered through his climax, hips jerking helplessly against the floor.
“There it is,” I crooned. “Feel how hard you’re coming. All because of me. All because deep down, I’m what you’ve always wanted and can never have.”
His orgasm continued to rack through him, each spasm a victory I savored. Tremors rippled beneath me as he rode out the waves of unwanted pleasure.
I kept taunting him. “Your cock is pulsing right now, isn’t it? Pumping out cum because of the man you hate. What would your bigoted father say if he could see you now?”
A broken sob escaped him as the last throes of his climax subsided, leaving him trembling beneath me.
“You’ll never forget this,” I continued. “Every time you see me, you’ll remember how I made you come without even trying. How your body betrayed every hateful word you’ve ever said about me.”
Jace lay motionless except for the occasional aftershock that coursed through him. I relished knowing he was suffering from the wet spot spreading across his pants as unmistakable evidence of his humiliation.
“Nothing to say now?” I taunted. “No threats? No insults? Wow, it’s amazing how quiet you get after you come.”
“Get off me,” he finally managed.
Rather than obeying, I kept twisting the knife deeper. “Should we find out how many times I can make you come while you’re screaming my name instead of threats? We’ve still got time.”
“When I get free, I’ll fucking end you,” he threatened, voice strained from pain.
I laughed, the sound hollow and vicious, carrying the unmistakable edge of Gennaro brutality. “Nothing you could do to me would compare to the hell I’ve already survived. This is your last warning. Don’t interfere with me again, Jace. You will lose.”
He shivered beneath me. Whether it was from fear or residual arousal was up for debate. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“You should be, especially if you continue harassing Shaw.”
“What could you possibly do?” Jace sneered.
“I can hurt you in ways that would make death feel merciful,” I promised, my voice dropping to the clinical tone I’d learned from Salvatore interrogating his enemies.
“There’s a reason my last name is Gennaro.
You’d do well to remember that. Our family doesn’t tolerate threats to what belongs to them.
I’ll make you disappear so completely your sister would forget you ever existed. ”
The door to my suite swung open. Two of Salvatore’s enforcers entered, their faces expressionless.
I released Jace and rose to my feet, not bothering to cover myself. “It took you long enough.”
Both men bowed low. “Forgive us, President Dragon.”
I gestured dismissively toward Jace’s crumpled form. “Get this piece of shit out of my sight. Ensure I’m not troubled by his presence again.”
“Yes, sir.” They hauled Jace to his feet, ignoring his groan of pain as they wrenched his injured arm.
“I won’t forget this,” Jace snarled, his face flushed with humiliation and rage.
“Good,” I replied, my voice dripping with condescension. “Then maybe there’s some hope for you after all.”
I watched with immense satisfaction as they dragged him out. The door closed with a soft click that echoed in the sudden silence. Only then did I allow my shoulders to sag, a dark smile playing on my lips. Maybe now he’d quit being such an asshole to Shaw about his sexuality.
But my reprieve would be short-lived. Salvatore would arrive soon. There would be consequences for my actions, but protecting Shaw was worth whatever punishment awaited me. I wondered if he was downstairs now, waiting to confront Jace.
Before I could pick up the towel I had cast aside earlier, the door opened without warning. Salvatore entered with a menacing air.
Bracing myself for yet another painful encounter, I bowed my head, fighting the urge to tense as he approached.
I hated how my naked body betrayed my physical discomfort.
I didn’t dare look up at him until I had permission.
“Father,” I murmured, my voice a calculated blend of deference without weakness.
“You must be quite pleased with yourself.” His tone carried the chill of a morgue freezer. “That was a willful act to antagonize that boy to the point of violence.”
“As if I would let such filth defile me,” I replied with calculated arrogance, eyes still downcast.
His hand shot out, gripping my chin and forcing my face upward. “Your insolence tests my patience. One more misstep and you’ll discover how displeased I can become.”
“Forgive me, Father,” I said, my tone contrite.
“For which transgression?”
My stomach tightened. “Sir?”
“I heard every fucking word you said to that boy.” Salvatore’s fingers dug into my jaw until I tasted blood from my cheek cutting against my teeth.
Shit, I had gotten too carried away in my game of punishing Jace. I had made the cardinal sin of forgetting about the ever-present cameras. Of course Salvatore had been watching.
“Have you forgotten who owns your body?” His voice remained terrifyingly soft as he wrapped his hand around my throat. “Every hole, every drop of cum, every fucking breath you take belongs to me. Did you think you could give away what’s mine?”
“Father, I would never disrespect you in such a manner.”
“Did you put your cock in that girl?” Each measured word fell like a sledgehammer against bone.