With a shudder of revulsion that he probably took as a tremble of fear, I parted my lips and sucked him in to the hilt, hard and without preamble, before drawing back to roll the soft head around my tongue. He thickened, growing until he filled my mouth, and I had to adjust to avoid hitting him with my teeth. I hadn’t lost them to the drugs, and I wasn’t about to lose them to this dick now.
As he palmed the back of my head and moaned, he sprawled back in the office chair, making it squeak with every pump of his hips. I had barely set my pace with monotonous, repetitive motions that I hoped would eventually get him off, when there was a knock at the door.
"Enter," Rodrigo called out above me as he held my head down, burying my nose in his graying pubes until I couldn't breathe.
The door opened, and a man's chuckle followed my desperate gasps for air when Rodrigo finally let me up.
"So you really did get her," a vaguely familiar voice mused, "and you didn't waste any time putting her to use, I see."
Rodrigo fisted my hair, using it to pull me up and twist my head so I could see who was getting a show at my expense. I didn't give two shits about someone watching, unless it was the guys, but if my reaction was what he’d been after, he got it when my eyes landed on Peter Finelli. My shocked stare lasted an instant before curses poured from my lips.
“You motherfucking traitorous piece of shit!” The smack was immediate, as was the coppery tang of blood where my molars had cut into my cheek.
“That’s not what your mouth is for, whore,” Rodrigo snapped at me before shoving my head back into his crotch. I was fucking pissed I had an open cut in my mouth when I knew he planned on jizzing in it. If I catch something from this bastard...
“She’s a feisty one, isn’t she?” Peter asked, amusement lacing his tone. “You plan on passing her around? I wouldn’t mind taking a turn after what I saw in the video. Have to admit, those Carlotti boys tore that shit up.” Peter’s speech pattern was quick, too quick, and from what I remembered, he wasn’t that excitable. Made me wonder if he’d been dipping into his own product instead of just peddling it. If Edward Finelli’s son had thrown his lot in with Rodrigo, he was unpredictable enough, but add in drugs, and I could be fucked in more than one way. And at least one way was already on the table as far as Rodrigo was concerned.
He never slowed the pace he was forcing on me as he told Peter to go for it. “Actually, stick it in her ass. I haven’t decided whether I’m going to breed the bitch or not. Wouldn’t that be a grand ‘fuck you’ to my ungrateful child? Getting his whore pregnant and replacing him...” Rodrigo cackled at his twisted idea, and my stomach curdled at the thought of him fucking me, let alone impregnating me.
That was not how I wanted to end up being a mother, if at all. I was afraid it would break Santos, not to mention what it would mean for everything else. Hell, if I didn’t wind up dead, it would be a line in the sand that I wasn’t sure we would be able to overcome. And no matter who the father was, I would never willingly leave my own child with a psychopathic rapist. I’d run with it first, then deal with the fallout later.
"Get her up on the desk, if you don't mind, DeLuca." Peter's comment was accompanied by the jangle of his belt as he unfastened it.
Rodrigo grunted, sounding eerily like his son when he did that, and hauled me off of his spit-shined dick. He snapped his fingers at me, and I didn't bother stalling. I wanted to get it over with, so I climbed onto the desk after scooting his laptop off to the side.
It was uncomfortable as fuck with the edge of the desk digging into the back of my neck, but I let my head fall back, giving me the chance to see inside the drawer Rodrigo stored the laptop in. The one where Danny kept all kinds of miscellaneous shit, including the concealed compartment that held all of his USB drives. It was currently open, contents intact. I'd bet anything that Rodrigo had only recently figured out how to get into it and was still going through the thousands of hours of footage Danny had kept. His earlier reference to blackmailing influential men made me sure I was correct. If I could get my hands on those, it would take care of half of my problems, letting me take his ass out sooner than later.
"Condoms and lubricant, if you want them, are in that jar over there. Ol’ Danny Boy had them everywhere, though it's mostly down to the cherry-flavored shit. Man sure did like his theme," Rodrigo drawled as he pressed his dick against my lips, demanding entry.
I opened up to take him in, nearly gagging as he used the new angle to shove straight into my tonsils. Peter made some comment about easy access and my piercings when Rodrigo commanded me to lift my legs and exposed my lack of underwear. I was too busy trying to breathe since Rodrigo had decided to fold me in half, using the backs of my knees as handholds as he railed my throat.
A squirt of liquid hit my asshole before Peter started to press in, not taking much time to let me adjust nor caring that it fucking burned like a bitch. To top it off, I was going to have a cherry-flavored ass and the discomfort that came from using the shit. Fucking Danny. Even dead, the prick was still a pain in my ass. Literally.
As Rodrigo throbbed and came in my mouth, forcing me to swallow his cum, I promised myself to end both of the violating fucks as soon as I could. Preferably without taking out myself and those I cared about in the process. When he pulled out, my jaw and neck screamed from the strain, and the swelling cut inside my cheek throbbed like a sick bird's ass.
"You really plan on getting her pregnant? She made Danny a pretty penny shaking her ass and turning tricks in the backrooms. Hate to lose out on all that revenue, you know?" Peter's speech was interspersed with soft grunts and heavy breathing from his exertions. He wouldn’t quit fucking playing with my piercings either, and I despised that it was marginally turning me on. Thankfully, my biological response was tempered by the utter disgust I held for the man. As he sped up, my body jerked with every thrust, the only thing keeping me from sliding off the other end was where I'd hooked my hands under my raised ass to grip the edge of the desk.
"Maybe," came Rodrigo's reply from the office chair he'd flopped back in when he was finished with me. A click of a lighter, then the pungent smoke of one of Danny's prized cigars filled my nose. I'd kept my eyes closed, making it easier to pretend I wasn't getting fucked in the ass by a Finelli again. Ironic how it had come full circle since the night that Tony and Vanni had carted me out of there.
"I haven't decided yet if I'd rather do that or let the whole crew at her. I’d film it for my son and those Carlotti fucks before sending her back in pieces for a Christmas surprise. She'd keep in the freezer." He said it so nonchalantly that I knew I had limited time to figure shit out.
I didn't want to die like that, or at all, really, but the thought of the guys having to watch it all go down was more than unpalatable; it was fucking horrendous. I'd go nuts if I had to see it happen to them.
I desperately feared that Rodrigo's threats would be my fate if I couldn't destroy his evidence or escape with my men. Finally, the hot, lashing burn of the degenerate emptying into me came. As did a slap to my ass when he pulled out amidst a rush of liquid indicating the cheap condom had broken, deeply searing in the shame that I’d been with three men that weren’t mine in a single night. Not to mention my own broken promise widening the fissures in my soul after ending up back here when I’d sworn I wouldn’t. I wouldn't even be in my current predicament had I listened and stayed home, but no, I had to live up to my promises to Vinnie, and now it could take everything from me.
After I dragged myself, stiff and sore from the night's events, off of the desk and straightened my clothes the best I could, Rodrigo let me leave. Unfortunately, he had me escorted to Danny's old apartment within the club. I was to stay in the bedroom and wait for him. Wanting their mess off of me, I used the shower then huddled on the bed in a t-shirt I'd found in a drawer. Needing to escape instead of dwelling on what had just transpired, I brought last night's memory to the forefront of my mind, hiding in the happiness it evoked while hoping it wouldn’t be the last one to do so.