“Oh, no,” she murmurs faintly, presumably as pleasure starts to build again. “Oh, no, I can’t. That was… holy fuck.”
But she can. I show her I can. I fuck her gently until she can handle clit stimulation again, then I shove my little fuckdoll face-down into the pillow again and show her just how hard she can come.
When her pussy squeezes my cock again, I let loose. I bury myself deep into the pulsating warmth and release my cum inside her. Fuck, she feels good. She always feels so good, I’m just glad this time, I got to make her feel good, too.
At least, I’m glad until I realize the hitching isn’t her trying to catch her breath—she’s crying.
My head still vaguely hurts from coming so goddamn hard, but I roll her over and frown down at her. She’s curled up in a ball, eyes squeezed closed. What the hell?
Her voice is alarmingly high as she quietly demands, “Oh, my God, what’s wrong with me?”
“What? Nothing’s wrong with you.”
She scrubs at her eyes with the palms of her hands and turns her back to me again, curling up away from me. “I didn’t want that. I didn’t want any of that. I didn’t want you and I’ve never… I’ve never felt anything like that, and after last night? What the fuck is wrong with me?”
“Mia, nothing is wrong with you.” I go to put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugs it off.
“Leave me alone. Please. You like me begging? Well, I’m begging. Please, leave me alone.”
Well, fuck. This isn’t how I saw this going. I mean, I had to be an asshole today, but I didn’t mean to…
I sigh, rolling off the bed and gathering my things. No matter. I only have to get through this one last day of hell, then I never have to leave her broken on my bed again. I can fix this.
I tell myself that more times than a person should have to utter the truth as I get ready and head downstairs to start my day. I cringe when I pass Maria in the hall, knowing the sight she’s about to walk in on.
What a mess.
I head to my study and focus on better times. I shove away the present image of Mia that I just left upstairs and concentrate on tomorrow. Conroy and Hernandez are going to approach her on her way to school, so it will all be over by afternoon. As long as she doesn’t talk, we’ll be okay.
I hope I didn’t make her desperate enough to talk. I need her to keep her mouth shut, but my experience up to this point makes me wary. I don’t want to think about that. I can’t think about it.
Instead, I call up my personal shopper and tell her I want dresses for Mia sent over today. Something white and form-fitting, something black and sexy. She can wear the white to dinner tonight, and then tomorrow after she gets off school, she can change into the black dress and I’ll take her out to a nice dinner. There’s a quiet, classy French restaurant that will be perfect. They have seats by the window with a gorgeous view of the city. I’ll buy us a bottle of nice, French wine and play every card I need to until she likes me again.
“Yes, make sure it’s a private table by the window,” I verify, glancing up as my brother walks into the room.
Dante wasn’t supposed to come over today. I frown slightly as he leans across my desk and hands me a canister.
The man on the phone asks, “And how many for your party?”
I pop the lid on the canister and look inside. I raise an eyebrow at the sight of a bloody finger. Wasn’t expecting any fingers today. “Two people, s’il vous plait,” I repeat into the phone. I cast a questioning look at Dante, but he crosses his arms behind his back and waits for me to finish my phone call.
“All right, monsieur, I have your reservation all set. Is there anything else we can do for you tonight?”
“Nope, that’s all. Merci. Au revoir.”
I end the call and sit forward, lifting an eyebrow at Dante. “What the hell is this?”
“I dealt with Enzo,” he offers.
My expression deadens. This motherfucker. He pushes me to hurt Mia citing family responsibility as the reason, then he has the gall to bring me a fucking finger and say someone has been dealt with.
“Where’s the rest of his hand?” I ask.
“Attached to his body,” Dante replies.
“Is he breathing?”
“Yes,” he says, vaguely annoyed.
“Then he hasn’t been dealt with. I’m not sure what would possess you to think I might be even remotely in a lenient mood today, Dante, but I’m not.”
“He wasn’t aware of the skimming. I killed the guy who stole from us. Enzo… he’s been going through a rough time. I know it’s not an excuse, but his head was fucked up. He’s done good work for us consistently. I think he’ll continue to do good work for us.”