When I pull out of her and my cum leaks down her thighs. I reach across on the nightstand and grab the box of tissues to clean her off. When I start she glances back at me with that same flicker of surprise dancing in her eyes.
She doesn’t fucking belong here. None of them do. Not even the ones who get paid to fuck.
I’m boss but I don’t usually interfere with business, unless I have to. It’s practically the law of the underground that a man has a right to take payment in whatever ways he sees fit when a debt can’t be repaid.
That doesn’t mean I agree with it and I most certainly don’t agree with beating a woman. Even a beast like me knows that beating a woman near death is wrong. Lucca has a temper on him. From the second Megan said she tried to escape and I saw the marks on her back, I knew he dealt the blows.
Megan would have been down for days with the wounds I saw. They were lacerations that, yes, were healed, but they’ll leave a mark on her. It will be years before those marks fade. Maybe never.
I leave her and make my way into the ensuite bathroom to take a leak and clean off my dick properly. Quickly I do so and go back out to her with a warm rag to clean her too. Again she looks surprised.
“You’re nice to me,” she says. That sounds more like a question of why I’m being nice.
I’m not nice. I don’t do nice or sweet. Those words are nothing that ever described Dante Marchesi. That is who I am and as that guy, I do what I need to do depending on who I’m dealing with.
If that appears in the form of nice to her then it is what it is.
I guess I was what she needed me to be.
“Surprised?” I ask. I know she is. I just want to hear her talk.
“Yes. You’re a Marchesi like Lucca. I… did not expect nice.”
“You’re right. Don’t expect nice from a Marchesi. We aren’t nice. I’m not like my cousin, however. Lucca is very different from me. As the boss of the family, I have to be a little different.”
This doll knows nothing about being subtle. It’s a dead giveaway that she’s not from our world.
Twice now she’s been obvious in showing fear. Not even fear, terror, and she’s still doing it. If I was as fucked up as some of these sick fuckers that frequent this whore house I’d get off on it.
She swallows hard, still afraid and I smirk.
“Didn’t I tell you I wasn’t going to hurt you?” I remind her and start wiping between her thighs. Her cheeks flush pink when my fingers flutter over her sweet pussy.
“Yes,” she breathes.
“Then why would you be frightened because I’m the boss, doll?”
She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Sir…Like fuck… that should sound like music to my ears. Not like this though.
“My name is Dante. You call me Dante, not sir.”
“Dante.” She says my name like she’s trying out the sound.
“Go to sleep.” She needs to.
She rests her head against the pillow and continues to stare at me.
She blinks once then when her eyes close again she’s gone. The still movement of her chest suggests she’s drifted into a deep slumber. I get in next to her and pull the covers over us both. I then sleep but not fully. I never fully sleep. Pa always told me to sleep with one eye open and your gun at the ready.
My gun is always near me and not falling into a deep sleep is my rendition of being aware.
I wake late in the morning and that bitch Belinda knocks on the door to come and clean the place.
One hard look from me and she knows not to press me when I tell her she doesn’t need to clean the room today.
I’m dressed and ready to go, and she knows that next to Lucca, she’s my least favorite person here, yet she smiles up at me with her fake as hell smile.