Chapter One #2
Luca scoops Willow’s dress from the ground, slicing through it and destroying the material systematically until it’s no more than a pile of turquoise ribbons and scattered sequins, which he secures to a wrist or ankle, tight enough to not cut off her circulation, just enough play to give her the illusion she might be able to break free.
There won’t be any escape from what we want. The back of the blade in Luca’s hand glides along her spine, and across her lower back. There’s no risk of cutting her, but in her heightened state, she won’t know that.
“Spread your legs.”
He presses the handle against her asshole until she squirms while I fix her impromptu cuffs to the silken ropes installed on the floor. Collecting her hands gently, I graze them across my mouth and raise them over her head, fixing her in place there too.
Luca stills. We’ve hit a point we agreed to complete.
From here on in, the night goes as we decide in the moment.
I shrug my indifference, tracing my fingers along her sides as he grazes a second blade along the insides of her thighs.
I find her tender spots and leave my touches light until she’s a gasping, writhing mess beneath my touch.
“Be still.” Luca’s whiplash command has its desired effect.
Willow freezes with a whimper while I continue to lightly torture her. Luca holds my gaze as he puts pressure on the handle of his knife where it rests against her asshole and pushes it gently.
Willow’s mouth opens, but nothing—not even a breath—slips out.
Her legs tremble, but it’s not from trying.
I relent, cupping her breasts and twisting her nipples fiercely.
Her cry cuts through the room as Luca assaults her asshole with the handle of his favorite knife.
Willow trembles in her cuffs and heels, striving for balance.
Just because I’m an asshole, I push a hand into the middle of her back, shoving her forward. My wife tips forward, and struggles for balance, only to find she’s impaling herself on Luca’s knife, inching forward in her absence.
“Rafe—” she gasps, the first tears pouring from beneath her blindfold.
I lick away each one with a groan. “You know what your tears mean to me, Raven.”
She nods, sobbing softly. Not from pain, or too much of anything she doesn’t want, just the perfect overload of stimulation, leading her to a breaking point.
Perfection.
“Let’s see how much that turns your pretty slut on,” Luca murmurs softly, his voice cruel, hard and savage over our joint seduction.
He presses the hilt of the other knife against her pussy, and she bears down on the handle, impaling herself with ease. My hands flex on her nipples, begging to coat myself in her dripping cunt, but this is Luca’s playtime, and I can wait.
A small sob escapes her lips, one she tries to swallow, but it’s too late.
Even I can see the slick on the hilt of his blade in the darkness.
Luca has no problem sliding the knife in and out of my wife’s cunt.
Without touching her more I can feel her clenching on it, knowing what her impending orgasm on my cock feels like.
I rub my knuckles hard over the front of my pants.
“Be a good slut and thank your chef for fucking you with his knives. Maybe he’ll let you suck on them when he prepares your dinner next time.
” I force myself not to grind on her, and know Luca is using every inch of his willpower not to do the same.
We will take our pleasure once she’s nicely ruined.
She nods, then stills, her brow dipping when I tip her head back and spit into her mouth.
“Our good little Raven, taking my knives,” he whispers, licking the insides of her thighs coated in her own fluids, his tongue close to the blade’s edge. “Now suck for me.” He tosses the knife away that was in her ass a second before, raising the one from her pussy to her lips.
She kisses the handle. “Thank you, Chef,” she breathes, sticking out her tongue for him to lay the knife on like a fucking platter.
He obliges, breathing hard, his eyes dilating as she licks and sucks the engraved wooden handle, tracing her tongue across his name embedded there, showing his ownership.
His smile widens as she realizes what she’s doing.
“Yes. This is my payment for tonight’s ownership of you, too.”
Willow cries out, trembling as she comes at the mere thought of him claiming her, even for a short time. Her heady scent washes over us, stripping away who we are and leaving a pair of ravenous beasts in our places, ready to tear into her fresh meat.
Her body shakes all over, and I realize it’s not from her orgasm but from fear, though she stays in place and remains silent. That she trusts me—us—not to rip her apart hardens me impossibly at the concept she gives her all to us.
Without being able to see her face, that’s all we have.
I watch her closely, pressing my body, fully clothed, to her naked one.
Willow sighs, letting the ropes take her weight as my hands roam her body.
Luca tosses the other knife at the desk.
It clatters in the silence of the room punctuated by Willow’s soft noises.
I tip her head back as though I’ll kiss her and motion Luca in.
His large hands frame her face as she stills, her ass pressed against my aching cock.
I reach between us to free myself as he kisses her, plunging his tongue over and over into her mouth without sealing his lips around hers fully.
I get it—this is just sex. It’s raw, fulfilling even, but she’s not his submissive.
She’s mine.
I squeeze lube from the desk onto her crack, and she whimpers through Luca’s tongue fucking as my cock presses to her gaping asshole. Her cries are louder and I shove deep, gripping her hips and giving her no way to escape me. Her body convulses around mine and I swear she just came.
“You like being impaled on your master’s cock, little Raven?” Luca asks quietly, all sense of mocking in his voice gone.
“ Yes ...” Her body shudders and I know she has come this time as I thrust two fingers deep inside her pussy, enjoying her clenching down on me.
“Let’s give you something to fill that other hole, pretty slut. Yes?” I kiss her ear, removing my fingers and placing them against her mouth. She sucks her cum off my flesh, moaning as Luca, his shirt ripped off and pants hanging open in a second, plunges into her body.
We work her hard, sawing into her holes that bear down as though they’re made for us. But it’s her scream, that deep, cracked scream as she comes again that ruins us all.
****
W illow sits naked in the gilded bird cage that hangs over my desk in the club. Unlike during our playtime, the lights are on, and everyone in the club can see directly into the room and the woman dozing in her nest. Half of them want her—the other half want to be her.
Neither is happening.
Willow’s only attire is the ragged cuffs Luca tied to her wrists at the start of the night.
We kept fucking her until my thighs ached, and then brought her down to finish her on the desk, coating her sweat-slicked body in our cum.
But when I removed her blindfold and went to clean her, a knife ready to cut the cuffs off, she refused.
That smile she gave me, the one that matched her glowing face—I’ll happily give into that smile for the rest of my life and beyond.
She’s mine in every way, and only if I choose to share her will any of the others get to touch her.
More than one man in the meeting palms the front of his pants, and two are red faced, torn to distraction by her beauty and lack of availability.
“Do I have your attention, Ramone?” I ask softly, twirling the blade Luca gifted to me after fucking her pussy with it again. His name and her juices stain the wooden handle. An apt trophy of tonight’s playtime.
“I– yes.” The man, whose late father was once one of my father’s capos , blinks glazed eyes my way. “I’m happy to run things here for you.”
“Is that what I just said?” I raise an eyebrow noting Dom’s absence hard at this moment. A shared glance, a subtle—or not so subtle—eye roll and the meeting would pass that much faster.
I also miss his judgement in these times. How I came to rely on his was the aftermath of dozens of skirmishes where the stray bullet he took on my behalf would have ended my short life. Instead, he now protects his own family, and the remnants of mine, back home.
Cyprus is home, too.
But the soil that birthed me is no longer the place that holds my heart. Still, I must maintain strength here to keep a hold of all my territories. I refuse to lose them in the first year of my reign after my father managed them for so long.
Trust no one, sometimes not even yourself.
Watch their eyes. They will tell you their secrets.
Give them nothing. Not a smile, nor a familiar glance.
In keeping Dom by my side for so long and developing a united front with Luca, and Willow, I broke all my father’s rules at once.
“It’s not?” Ramone shakes his head as though trying to clear it.
I smile graciously. “Distracting, isn’t she?” I tilt my head to one side. “Would you like to touch my beautiful slut?”
Ramone shakes his head, his senses driving him forward faster than his blood-laden cock. “No, my Don.”
I twirl the knife once more and plant it to the hilt in the old, hardwood desk and lose the smile.
“Good. Shall we focus here, instead?” I tap the old ledger before me and lean back, closing my eyes to listen to everything the man tells and doesn’t about the history of the Cyprus territories, and all their dealings.
Then comes the next man, and a woman, a legacy buy in from her father. Another man.
By the time the sun rises and my wife stirs, smiling dozily at me as she stretches, I’ve learned one thing about my father’s capos .
They’re all full of shit.
I nod to the early twenties boy with dark hair who wears a pair of matte black pistols on his hips and an unchanging expression. Eduardo Kinzali hasn’t moved all night, and I appreciate his service.
“Good to see someone takes this job seriously.”
He doesn’t crack a smile, but nods once. “Sir.”
“Do we have a boy for coffee? Anyone in service?” I frown as I tap my fingers lightly on the desk near the hilt of the knife.
The kid’s eyes track the movement. “I can do that, sir. And arrange breakfast for you and your wife.” He inclines his head in Willow’s direction, but averts his eyes.
Good man.
“I’d appreciate that.” I stretch my shoulders and rise, wiggling my toes as pins and needles assault my legs, though I don’t let the pain show in my stance, my face, or my walk. “Please have someone rouse Chef Luca. He will show the kitchen how the job is done.”
That puts a halt in the boy’s stride. Well, he’s not so much a boy but I’m feeling old this morning.
“My mother runs the kitchen here, sir,” he says quietly, without a drop of reproach.
“Does she?” I roll my shoulders and nod. “Then I look forward to seeing what they accomplish together.”
“Sir.”
The door closes behind my newest ally as I turn to Willow who works her body against the bars, her head tipped back for a kiss. I work us both into a frenzy in seconds, lowering the chain of her cage so her head is at my crotch level, and massage my fingers into her hair.
Her sweet moan roils my blood.
“Open.”