25. Chapter Twenty-Five—Carlotta
Chapter Twenty-Five—Carlotta
“Got any weekend plans?” Claire asks me as we work together to thread price tags through the latest delivery of designer clothes before they go out on the racks.
“Uh, yeah.” I nod. “I’ve got a date.”
“A date? I didn’t even know you we’re seeing anyone!”
Not for the first time do I wish Claire and I were closer than just co-workers. She’s a nice enough girl and she never pries or spreads gossip like the other girls; whispering behind their hands when I walk past them.
I’ve had enough ‘friends’ like that to last me a lifetime.
“So, how long have you been going out?” she asks, skillfully threading a tag through the strap of a periwinkle-colored silk gown.
“Oh… just a couple of weeks.”
“And how did you two meet?”
“Through a friend.” I paste on a smile. “One of his friends, actually.”
My stomach swoops at the very thought.
Cassiel told me about the relationship between Rome and him when I’d asked him—the moonlight shining through the open window, the draft of wind kissing our sweat slicked skin after screwing each other’s brains out.
They’d been friends first before their relationship had blossomed into something more. They’d been together for nearly twelve years and although they’d shared women in the past, Cass had assured me I was different.
Why, he wouldn’t tell me, which didn’t qualm my fears about where I fit into their equation seeing as I’ve now slept with both of them on separate occasions.
My anger at Rome still rises to the surface of my skin every time I think of him, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy a little fun while I’ve got it in my grasp.
“A friend of his?” Claire giggles, pressing her shoulder to mine. “I’m surprised they’re not fighting over you.”
If only she fucking knew.
The faux smile playing about my lips, curl in a real grin as I glance up at her. “Why would they be fighting over me?”
Pausing her work, Claire stares at me as if I’ve grown three heads. “Because you’re gorgeous. Don’t tell me you don’t have men fawning over you all the time?”
I shake and pop my shoulders in a shrug.
Maybe I do. I don’t know. I haven’t given a lot of time to other men; not since Rome and I started playing together.
It was never in our agreement to be faithful to one another, but I quickly learned I wasn’t really interested in entertaining other men when I had him to fulfil my deepest, darkest fantasies.
And now with Cassiel in the picture…
Both of them are so attractive that it’s hard to pay attention to anyone else when all I can picture is the two of them.
“Ohhh, you’ve only got eyes for him, is that?” Claire guesses, hitting the metaphorical nail on the head. “That’s got to be why you miss all the other appreciative glances your way from practically every warm blooded, straight male, who walks in this department store.”
“What?” I squawk. “They do not!”
“Yeah, they do! They follow you around the store like a pack of puppies, casting glances when their wives and partners aren’t looking.”
I peer down at a price tag, pretending to fiddle with it while the apples of my cheeks flame red. “If Cass knew, he’d call security to remove each and every one of them.” “Remove their eyeballs, more like,” I think to myself with a smile.
“Cass? That’s him?”
I nod, flushing under Claire’s gaze.
“He sounds protective.”
I shrug again, smirking at her. “I don’t mind. I kinda like it, actually.”
“Look at you! Blushing!” she chortles. “So, what are thinking of wearing? Where’s he taking you, again?”
Peering at myself one last time in the mirror, I smooth the creases forming in my skintight leather trousers and stalk to answer the heavy knock sounding on my apartment door.
“Who is it?” I call through the wood with a sweet lilt.
“The man whose taking you out on a date tonight and then is going to fuck your tight little pussy raw—”
I rip open with door to find Cassiel, one arm leaning on the lintel above his head, dressed head to toe in dark denim jeans, a dark shirt, and a leather jacket.
“I didn’t know we we’re going to a John Travolta look-alike contest for our date.”
Taking two large steps, Cassiel crosses the threshold, slamming the door shut behind him and cornering me against the painted wall. He ducks a finger under my chin, capturing my mouth with his, swallowing my whimper when I part my lips, and he dips his tongue inside to slide against mine.
“Woke up and decided you’d be a brat tonight, huh?”
I gaze up at him, pressing my lips together, feeling the flesh swollen there. My breath comes in quickly, stomach and ribcage expanding, grazing Cass’s toned torso.
“If the shoe fits.”
Molding his hands to my waist, I watch Cass peer down at my outfit, his pupils widening, eating up his pretty hazel irises with each passing heartbeat.
“Do you like it?” I breathe, tipping my hips up to be flush with his and breaking the silence between us.
“Fuck yeah, I do.” Cass’s thick thumb and forefinger reach up to play with the sweet bow I’ve tied between my breasts. “What happens if I pull this?”
I glance down at myself; at the sheer black lace covering my arms and the two thick panels covering my tits, held together by a crisscross pattern, laced up my front like a kinky corset.
The heavy curve of my breasts and my sternum remain exposed, gooseflesh rippling there when Cass strokes the pad of his middle finger over my flesh. “Guess.”
He flashes me a smirk, leaning in for another kiss as his thumb ghosts over one of my hardened nipples.
Beneath my leather trousers, my pussy throbs, a fresh surge of arousal flooding through my core, when I remember the feel of those thick fingers inside me. The press of them against my G-spot. The feel of them playing with my clit, demanding I soak his hand and the mattress and—
“You don’t think it’s too… revealing, for wherever you’re taking me?”
Cass shakes his head no, nibbling at my neck, his third day stubble marking me. “I know how to fucking fight, Princess. No one will dare look at what’s mine, let alone touch it.”
My hips stutter, searching for friction as I murmur, “I’m yours, am I?”
“Of course you are. Didn’t I make that clear enough to you?”
“You did…” I wrap my arms around his neck, inhaling the familiar clove scent clinging to him. “But maybe I need a little reminding?”
Cassiel slides his hand down my body, cupping my core through the heat of my clothes, the heel of his hand pressing right against my clit. I dig my nails into his broad shoulders, tipping my head back on a mewl.
“I’ll remind you tonight when I’m blowing your brains out, leaving you pumped full of my cum and dripping. Is that what you need, Princess?”
Poker hot desire rips through me like an inferno. “Please.”
“Good girl,” Cass hums, tracing the shape of my lips. “I—”
Pressing my palms to his chest, I push a little, knocking him off a keel for just a second before he regains control, caging me against the wall his forearms. “Can’t we just stay in and—”
“No.”
I pout, trailing my hands down his muscular body until I can dip my manicured fingertips beneath the waistband of his denims. Warm, smooth skin kisses my knuckles as I stroke back and forth, eliciting a full body shiver from Cass.
“Don’t tempt me, Lottie.” A lock of his styled blond hair falls in his eyebrows, tickling my nose when he leans down to kiss me again. “God, these lips… I can’t bear to be away from them for a second…”
“Then, don’t.” I rise to my tiptoes to kiss him back, our bodies flush together. “We can—”
“It’s not happening, Princess. No matter how much you beg. I promised you a date, so you’re going to get one.”
“Fine.” I bite my bottom lip to hide my grin, moving to dip out from under his arm and—
A strong hand wraps around my upper bicep, pulling me back into him with a deep groan. “Gimme just one more taste.”
One heavy make-out session later, I smooth down the flyways of my hair and press my freshly gloss slicken lips together as I watch Cassiel rearrange himself in the reflection of the mirror.
“You okay over there?”
He catches me smirking at him, one brow raised and grins. “Got a case of blue balls. But it’s nothing you can’t fix for me later on.”
I roll my eyes, vehemently ignoring the flutter of butterflies in my stomach at the sound of Cass’s laugh, double checking I have my card and phone in my purse, before I make a quick dash to my bedroom.
“Heels? Or no heels?” I call, poking my head out of the doorway while holding up a pair of flat boots in one hand and a pair of black heels in the other.
“No heels.” Cass shakes his head, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got the bike out front.”
I nod, throwing the heels back into my closet and shoving my feet into my boots.
“Okay, I’m ready,” I glance down to retie the laces of my top from where it came a little undone under Cassiel’s wandering hands as I walk back to the kitchen. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
I glance up at him, finding him preening under my gaze, a boyish grin on his face. “Not until we get there.”
His smile is so contagious, I find myself grinning too as I loop my purse over my shoulder and—
“What are you doing with that?”
“With what?”
“Your purse.”
“I’m… bringing it with me?”
Cass shakes his head. “Why? What’s in it?”
“My phone, keys, mints, cash, I—”
“Leave it.”
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t need your purse, Princess. When you’re with me, you won’t be paying for a single fucking thing. So, leave it. Bring your phone and your keys. That’s all you’ll need.”
I blink, unsure. “We’re not going to split halves on everything?”
“Fuck no,” he spits. “What type of guys have you been dating that make you—fuck that, I don’t wanna know about any other guys.”
A giggle bubbles up from my throat. “So possessive… I like it. But don’t you think it’s unfair of me if—”
“Carlotta.”
Hearing the warning in his voice, I unzip my purse, fishing out my apartment keys and my phone only, leaving the rest of my purse on the countertop.
“There. Happy now?”
“Extremely, Princess.”
With a smirk, he ushers me out of my apartment, making sure the key twists in the lock with a click, before he grabs my hand and leads me down the stairwell.
As promised, Cass’s motorbike sits at the curbside, its gunmetal gray color illuminated by the overhead streetlights and the spill of light from the twenty-four hour corner store.
Excitement bubbles up in the pit of my stomach when I remember the unfiltered freedom I felt ripping through my hair, the last time I rode behind Cass. I had never felt anything like it before and never had again after the events that followed…
Behind my eyelids, flashes of memories burst painfully.
The dank basement.
Click.
The lank haired prisoner sat in the corner, the chains attached to his ankles and his wrists clanking in time with my fluttering heartbeat.
Click.
The slump of his body, the red stain across his heart space growing larger and larger as the breath deflated from his lungs.
Click.
The coroner’s photographs of Cristiano’s naked, bruise covered body lying in the freezing cold morgue.
Click.
God, he must have been so cold and so scared…
“You okay, Princess?”
“Yeah.” I wet my lips, suddenly jarred out of my own thoughts by the sound of Cass’s voice. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… spaced out for a second.”
“You’re not nervous about getting on, are you? Maybe I should have bought the—”
I catch a hold of Cass’s corded forearm to stop him rambling. “No, the opposite actually. I’m excited. I just…”
He peers down at me, never taking his eyes from mine. “Just what?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him, but I swallow it down at the last second. Instead, I shake my head. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Will you help me with my helmet?”
I wait patiently while he tightens the strap beneath my chin, places his own helmet on his head and pulls on a pair of leather, fingerless gloves.
He climbs on first, leaving enough room for me to perch behind him, my arms finding a home around his waist.
“Hold on tight, Princess.”