Depraved

by Pucci, Trilina

  Sarah stands from behind me and walks around the desk with that sexy-ass hip sway and stops directly in front of me, standing in between my legs. “I’m here.”

  I place my cigar on the desk beside my leg and put my hands on her hips, taking a deep breath. “Thoughts are strange sometimes. The way they connect. For instance, I was drinking a glass of whiskey, and as I did, I thought of how much I enjoy whiskey and how I swear I could taste a hint of honey.”

  She gives a half laugh, her fingers finding their way to the lapels on my jacket. “You came in here to tell me you tasted honey in the whiskey?”

  “Yeah.” I breathe out low, dragging my bottom lip between my teeth.

  She taps a finger against my chest gently and laughs. “Are you drunk already?”

  I take in how flushed her cheeks are and how her breasts push forward slightly as she speaks to me.

  “No.” I answer, dragging out the word. “But you know what else tastes like honey?”

  “No.” She shakes her head, but her mouth stays slightly agape. Sarah’s sucked into our game.

  “You.”

  “Oh.”

  Her eyes blink, and she presses her lips together, excited by what I just said.

  “See. Then Matteo told me these cigars—” I reach down, picking up the forgotten smoke, and bring it between us. “—that these particular cigars are very dry…that they need to be wet to really give the best experience.”

  Sarah shifts her weight, and I know she’s wanting to relieve the ache that’s building inside her. I tilt my head and run the cigar past my nose again.

  “So, I thought, since it needs to be wet, I might as well coat it in honey. And then I’ll have all my favorite flavors with me,” I explain, giving her a half smile.

  “Oh.”

  This time she says it with understanding and not shock.

  I stand, forcing her to take a step back, and look down at her. “Put your hands on the desk and spread your legs.”

  Her breath hitches as I step to the side to give her room. She looks at me as she takes a step forward and places her palms on the desk, stepping one leg out and then the other, as I come to stand behind her.

  “Wider.”

  She steps out again, and I press against her backside, taking one of her breasts in my hand. Keeping the cigar in my other hand, I bend forward and trail it up her leg that’s sticking out of the slit. The tightly wrapped cigar scratches up her leg as her breathing increases. I tuck my hand inside the slit in her dress and down over her bare pussy.

  “Try not to tighten—cigars are fragile,” I growl in her ear.

  A nervous giggle escapes her lips, but she stops almost as quickly. “Sorry.”

  I take the uncut side of the cigar and rub it around her entrance, pushing it in slightly, letting it pulse in and out a few strokes before pulling it back out.

  “Oh shit,” she pants.

  I lean in over her shoulder, running my nose down her neck. “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted. Now I won’t have to miss you.”

  My hand slips back out of her dress, and I straighten, smoothing my jacket. Sarah’s face comes into view over her shoulder, a naughty smile on her lips.

  “Is that all, Mr. Sovrano?” she purrs.

  “For now.” I wink and turn, walking out of her office, leaving her hot and needing with her fingers dug into her desk.

  THIS IS UNBEARABLE. ALL NIGHT his eyes have been on me as I walked around, silently fucking me with every glance. I can barely concentrate. All I want is to be devoured—long and hard and without mercy.

  I arch my back and cross my legs, leaning against the bar, my chin lifting as I wait on the inventory report. My thighs squeeze together for just a small bite of relief. Jesus, Dante’s going to kill me with all his sexy.

  “Sarah,” I hear called out from across the room.

  Holding a finger up to the approaching bartender, I turn, my eyes scanning and landing on one of the seating areas tucked in the corner. An internal sigh runs through me when I see Bill waving a hand.

  For fuck’s sake. I should just let Dante kill him.

  I nod and push off the bar, making my way over, glancing to where Dante is standing and talking to Matteo. He doesn’t seem to notice me, maybe because the conversation seems serious. My gaze drifts to the glass he’s holding by the top, circling it between his fingers.

  As I approach Bill, I see he’s sitting by himself, but there are two drinks on the table. Don’t say it, Bill.

  “Hello. Two nights in a row. Lucky me.” I smile tightly. “What can I do for you?”

  Bill tips his head to the chair. “Sit, Sarah. I ordered you a drink. You look like you’ve been working hard.”

  Would you just give up, already?

  “Yes, but I am working, so I’ll pass on the drink. Thank you though. You should mingle, Bill. There are open couples here tonight and quite a few singles as well,” I add, motioning around the room.

  My wrist pulls, and my gaze shoots to where I see his finger is tucked just underneath my bracelet, pulling it toward him.

  “What’s this?” he asks, staring at me.

  “That’s a bracelet. Please remove your finger from it. Now,” I deliver calmly, feeling less than.

  “So, what? You like sparkly things. I’ll buy whatever you want. Stop teasing me and have a drink. I can make it worth your while,” he coaxes arrogantly as his fingers try to crawl up my arm.

  “Did you just proposition me?” I reply, stunned as I jerk my arm away, but he grips my wrist in his sweaty palm, holding me in place.

  I open my mouth to tell him to go fuck himself and remind him that I will revoke his membership if he doesn’t take his hand off me when my voice is quieted by a stronger one.

  “I’d keep your hands to yourself if you’d like them to remain attached to your body,” Dante growls from behind me.

  Bill’s hand drops from my arm as he swallows hard. “I apologize. We were just talking. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

  Well, that was fast.

  Dante trails his hand around my back as he crosses in front of me to lower himself into the seat across from Bill.

  “Sarah,” Dante calls, patting the arm of the chair. I smile and take a step closer, perching to watch the show.

  Let’s see how you like it, Bill.

  Bill’s knee begins to jump nervously, and I love it. He’s such a slimy bastard. Serves him right to get the shit scared out of him. The thought gives me a small pause as I look to Dante’s face…will he only go as far as scaring him?

  Bill takes an anxious sip of his drink. If he’s searching for courage, he’s going to need a case of whatever he’s drinking.

  Bill wipes the side of his mouth with his cocktail napkin, smiling weakly and trying to excuse himself to Dante.

  “You can’t blame a guy for trying. She’s gorgeous. I didn’t realize you two were a couple.”

  “We’re more than a couple. She’s mine, Bill. And do you know what I do to people who try and steal from me?” Dante leans into me, laying his arm heavily over my stacked legs. “It’s not good, Bill.”

  “Total misunderstanding. She said it was just a bracelet.” Dante’s hand grips my leg, and I know he’s pissed about what Bill just said. Fuck.

  Bill’s groveling continues, but I can already sense the shift in Dante. He’s livid, and Bill is about to get the brunt of his anger.

  “It won’t ever happen again. I’m just going to go now.”

  Bill begins to stand, but Dante shakes his head, so he sits back down. Shit. Bill’s eyes implore Dante to let it go, but I know he won’t.

  Dante’s thumb rubs small circles on my leg through the fabric of my dress as he stares at Bill, deep in thought, as if he’s considering all his options.

  “As of now, your membership is… something I should’ve done sooner, but I didn’t think you would be this big of a prick… revoked. Don’t try and reapply. You’re not welcome here, and don’t ask for a refund,�
�

  When Dante looks up at me, his smile fades, the irritation he has toward me showing. I open my mouth to tell him I didn’t mean to hide the meaning, to diminish it, when we’re interrupted.

  “Hold on. I don’t think so.”

  Suddenly, Bill is pissed; it’s as if a different guy altogether shows up. I can’t help the huffed-out laugh that pops from my mouth as I turn to look at Bill.

  His head pulls back as if he’s angry. “I just paid for next year. That’s bullshit. This is going too far,” he spits as he jabs the table. “That’s a lot of money.”

  Dante sits up straighter, his voice dropping lower.

  “Too far was the second time she told you to leave her alone. By my count, this is the fourth. So, take my generosity and get the fuck out of my club.”

  A sneer grows on Bill’s face. “Generosity? You’re a fucking thief. My lawyers are going to have a field day with this.” He laughs smugly. “Are you sure you want that headache? At the end of the day, this is all over some cheap pussy—”

  Bill doesn’t get to finish because Dante bursts over the table, grabbing Bill by the top of the head and smacking his face down with a lightning quick hard knock against the wood table. He does it again and again, as I scramble to stand, jumping back as the glasses go flying. Liquid sloshes and spills everywhere as the tumblers hit the ground, making a clinking sound before shattering into a million pieces.

  I spin around to see Matteo making his way to us quickly, but the look on his face isn’t calm like someone coming to stop Dante; it’s more like he’s coming to join in. I spin in the other direction and see security ushering guests out—they’re working on his behalf as well.

  Dante throws Bill back into his seat and slaps his bloody face then wipes his hand on the front of Bill’s jacket. “You’ll be fine, you fucking prick.” Dante sits back into his chair, adjusting his jacket, breath pulling from his body like a bull. “But this time, you remember who the fuck you’re speaking to.”

  Bill sputters and begins to wail about his nose being broken as blood gushes over his face and down his shirt, making his words sound unclear and gurgled.

  I start to turn back to the bar to get something to clean up with, but all I hear is “Sit.” Turning back slowly, I take a step forward, Dante’s eyes locked on my movements. I sit back in my place on the arm and take a deep breath.

  The energy is tenuous. I can feel Dante holding on to his temper, trying to strangle it into submission. This isn’t some bar fight or an argument that ends in expletives being hurled around. Fight with Dante and you may not make it to tomorrow. I need to calm him down before this asshole pays a price too big for my crime.

  Before I can reason or think, my hand darts out, bringing my fingers under Dante’s chin to turn his head away from Bill and focus on me. Dante’s eyes lock with mine, and he stares at me, all manner of anger behind his eyes.

  “Punish me,” I mouth, knowing why he’s really so angry.

  He told me I’d be a lifesaver…guess he wasn’t joking.

  Dante reaches for my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing my palm as Matteo comes to stand on the other side of him, crossing his arms.

  “Bill, you’re a jerk-off. You deserved that, but I believe in second chances, right, Matteo?”

  “Absolutely. You’re a saint, Dante,” Matteo answers, and it reminds me of the way a cat plays with its food before it kills it.

  Please don’t kill Bill.

  Bill is shaking and trying to negotiate, but his words are lost between his tears. I look down at Dante’s face to see him smirking.

  He likes Bill’s fear. But what’s more fucked-up is I like Dante’s power.

  Dante stands and cracks his neck before buttoning his jacket. “You need to apologize to my girl. Go on, say you’re sorry, or you won’t see tomorrow.”

  Bill nods his bleeding face and begins to mumble his words. “Please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry. Okay. Please. I’ll say whatever you want.”

  “Consider the broken nose more of a slap on the wrist,” Dante reasons as he takes my hand. “Now, what Matteo is about to do will serve as more of a permanent reminder not to touch those who do not belong to you.”

  Dante’s jaw tenses as he says it.

  He nods to Matteo before leading me past the seated area, my heels clicking in the silence. We get more than halfway to the staircase that leads downstairs, and I start to look over my shoulder, but Dante places his hand on my back. “No, Billy.”

  My head stays forward as I hear a muffled scream come from behind, fading away as we walk down into the silence. The wide hallway is dark, with doors on either side. Behind those doors are fantasy rooms and rooms that cater to those with more particular needs.

  My heart is beating out of my chest as we pass each one, trying to discern which one he’d take me to but already knowing deep down.

  My fingers reach for my choker, stroking over the bumpy surface as my thoughts weigh heavy on me. I knew what these pieces on my body would mean, but what I didn’t anticipate was how much heavier they would feel when I forgot my place.

  “I didn’t mean to call it a bracelet. I mean, I did, but because I didn’t want him to know anything about me, not because I was ashamed,” I whisper into the dark.

  Dante says nothing as we stop in front of an all-black door, a gold plate fixed in the middle with the inscription Ego te Absolvo, which translates into I absolve you.

  This room is for punishing.

  This room is for penance.

  Dante takes a deep breath and places a skeleton key into the door, twisting the lock. He pushes the door open and steps aside for me to enter, refusing to look at me.

  “What’s your word,” he breathes as I stand facing the room filled with whips and floggers that line the wall.

  “Mercy,” I answer, tipping my chin up, intoxicated and drawn into the darkest parts of this man.

  “Will you ask for it one day?” he whispers, bringing his lips to my neck and assaulting the flesh.

  “Do your worst, Dante.” I walk inside the room all the way to the center.

  I hear the door lock, but I don’t turn around. There’s nothing around me as I stand alone, waiting for what he’ll do, the pain he’ll inflict. My body’s begging for it, wetness slick between my legs and my nipples pushing harder against the fabric of my dress.

  His footsteps grow louder as he gets closer until I feel his warm breath on me. Dante’s fingers find the clasp for my dress, and he unclips it, letting the front fall over like a bib. He dips his finger inside the fabric, cinching it down slowly over my body until it pools at my feet.

  He gives me his hand, and I step out, dressed only in my jewels. I feel beautiful.

  “You look gorgeous wearing me around you.”

  Dante dips to pick up my dress and sticks it between my legs, wiping my center as a gasp leaves my mouth. “Your pussy is dripping. Begging to be fucked.” He tosses my dress to the couch and steps back. The sound of his belt buckle coming undone makes my eyelids flutter.

  “Spread your goddamn legs.”

  I take a step out, giving myself a wider stance.

  “Arms up,” he orders.

  I lift my arms above my head and hear the quiet buzzing of the hook being lowered from the ceiling. Dante walks in front of me holding the remote and watching the glimmering metal hook descend.

  He looks back to my face as the noise halts. Dante grabs my wrists and pulls me up. I push to my tiptoes as he uses my bracelets to connect me to the hook. When he releases me, I lower back to my heels as he licks his lips.

  I’m completely helpless, trussed up, nude. And I’ve never felt more on fire. He steps back to admire his handiwork, running his fingers over my nipples, taking one between his thumb and forefinger, pinching until I groan against the sensation.

  The chain rattles above my head. “Be still,” he warns, and I tense my body to not move. His hand lowers down my body and traces over the swe
ll of my ass. Goose bumps ignite over my body as I envision him kneading the skin and slapping it.

  “You forgot your place tonight. You let him touch you… You let him touch what’s mine.”

  I bite my lip, closing my eyes. Hearing those words, the way Dante calls me his. I want to be punished because I’ll never forget my goddamn place again. I am his.

  Only his.

  For as long as he’ll have me.

  “Who do you belong to?” he growls.

  “You.”

  “Who?” he questions darkly, a little louder.

  “You, Dante. I belong to you.”

  I hear his intake of breath before he walks past me silently to the wall of skinny black sticks, all with differing tops meant for pleasure and pain. Dante pulls a drawer open and pulls out a short-handled black whip.

  His fingers wrap around the handle, and his head bows for a moment before he lifts it and looks at me. “You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about this moment.”

  He shoves the whip handle into his pocket as he undoes the buttons on his shirt, leaving it open to his muscled and inked chest.

  He tilts his head as he watches me shift my weight with an amused look as I watch him unbutton his shirt cuffs, rolling each up his forearms.

  The veins in his arms protrude as he pulls the whip back out of his pocket, then hangs it next to him while he takes me in. I do the same to him.

  He’s a beast—shirt open, sleeves rolled, and his belt undone, gripping a leather whip. I could come on the spot.

  Dante walks back to me slowly and stops directly in front of me.

  “You’re going to need this.” He pulls the belt from his waist with his free hand.

  My lips part, and he places the leather in between my teeth. I bite down to hold it in as he trails his fingers up my arms before walking around me to where I can’t see.

  “Let’s make sure you remember who the fuck you belong to next time.”

  The first slash bites across my ass, and my entire body jumps as a rush of air leaves my body, hissing against the belt. Another sting on the other side pulls a moan from my lips, but Dante is unrelenting.

  The pain is exquisite.

  The sting of the leather tendrils that tear against my ass make my clit throb with a wicked ache. My teeth bite down hard as my body jumps over and over with each hit, bringing me up on my toes and back down, the chain clinking and swaying as I do.