A Cruel Love: Cavalieri Della Morte

by Soto, S. M.

  Completely lost in the pleasure, Blossom climbs up my body, wrapping her delectable legs around my waist. I slam her up against the wall and press my cock into her warm center while I take her mouth in a savage kiss. She moans in my mouth, and I eat it up as I roll my hips into her. Her nails scrape down my chest as she tries to tear my shirt off. Gripping her ass cheeks, I yank her toward the bed and plop her down, watching her tits jiggle once she hits the mattress. Those lust-filled eyes widen once she glances at the ceiling.

  “Holy shit,” she breathes, staring up at the mirror along the ceiling. It was an addition to the home I’ve never once regretted. The thought of looking up at the ceiling to watch Blossom ride my cock almost has me shooting my load right then and there.

  I don’t bother replying to her comment with words. I shed my clothes and strip hers off immediately after. My mouth finds purchase along her hot, slick cunt and I spread her soft lips open and suck her clit into my mouth. Her back bows off the bed, her fists instantly clenching the sheets into a ball. I drag my tongue up and down her center, swirling around her clit, enjoying the way she pants and her body writhes, trying to run from me. Spreading her even wider, I dip my tongue into her channel, laving up the taste of her. She’s drenched, her pussy soaked beyond fucking belief.

  Sliding a finger inside of her, I pump slowly at first and watch in awe as her hips circle, trying to match my rhythm. I glance up at the ceiling, and my dick jolts when I see Blossom watching us in the mirror.

  My fucking dirty girl.

  I suck her clit into my mouth and slide another finger inside of her, hooking them, rubbing against her wall, stroking that spot that makes her pussy flood with wetness.

  “Oh my god,” she pants, fucking my fingers now. I slip in a third finger and I feel her walls tighten around me. With my free hand, I reach up, tweaking the hardened point of her nipples until her body locks up and she shoots off like a fucking rocket. Blossom rides my face and my fingers, mewls of pleasure echoing around the room.

  Fluttering my tongue over her clit, I pull out my fingers, drenched with her orgasm, and draw the moisture back to circle her tightest hole. I can feel her unraveling. We haven’t discussed this again, but fuck, I want it. I want her. I want to own every fucking inch of her.

  While rubbing circles around the puckered flesh, I guide my dick toward her entrance and dip the head inside each time I dip my pinky into her other hole. Her skin is flushed, and her body can barely contain the pleasure. She’s squirming, and her chest is heaving for much-needed breath. She’s chanting, mumbling incoherently, her head constantly thrashing from side to side.

  “Please, Perc,” she pants. I oblige, stealing her breath when I slide all the way inside her, bottoming out. Her tight pussy hugs onto my dick, squeezing the fuck out of my shaft. I slide in and out of her, toying with her clit while sliding my index finger in and out of her tightest hole.

  “I’m…I…I can’t—” Blossom pants out suddenly, unable to string together a sentence.

  “Shhh.” Picking up my speed, I fuck her until she’s right on the edge of her orgasm. “Not yet, sweet girl. I’m fucking you here next.” I stretch her hole with two fingers while stroking her pussy with my cock. Blossom makes a mewling sound that goes straight to my dick and presses back onto my fingers. I feel her orgasm about to hit, and at the last second, I pull out of her and slowly press the head of my cock into her tight hole. I firmly apply pressure to her clit and slip two fingers back inside her pussy.

  “Oh god.” She chokes out a guttural groan. I slowly push against her body’s barrier and slide all the way in her tight little hole.

  “Breathe,” I coach her as I slide out and rock back into her, still fucking her with my fingers and stroking her clit.

  “It’s too much,” she breathes. Her pussy clamps around my fingers, and a single tear leaks out of the corner of her eye. The sight of her, of us in the mirror, all of it has my balls tightening. I lean forward and lick her tear. I’m a bastard, even now for thinking her tears are sexy. She’s the most beautiful creature when she’s like this, bent to my will.

  I quicken my pace. My eyes are fixed on the point of my cock disappearing in and out of her. Her muscles grip my dick in a restricting vise, practically choking my shaft as I own this part of her body. As I mark her as mine. It’s times like these when we’re both able to bare our souls without words, instead using our bodies. And as I fuck her ass, I make sure she knows she’s mine, no matter what.

  “Let go, baby,” I grind out, trying to hold off until she cums. And thank fuck she does. Her pussy clamps down on my fingers, and the muscles in her ass squeeze my cock at the same time she screams my name. Rocking into her, I shoot my load and slide out, resting next to her.

  “I can’t believe I let you do that,” she says so quietly, I almost don’t hear her. Pulling her nude body against mine, I caress the skin of her firm ass.

  “You’re mine, Blossom.” I don’t know why I say it, other than the basest need to let her know who owns her.

  “I know,” she whispers, snuggling into my chest.

  * * *

  After showering together, I dress quickly and let Blossom crawl back in my bed where she falls asleep almost instantly. I watch her from the shadows of my bedroom as her chest rises and falls softly with sleep. I need to do whatever I can to be sure she keeps breathing like this. For as long as humanly possible.

  Those few seconds before I came inside of her and felt myself let go, the answer to everything, to all our problems came to me. I knew immediately what needed to be done.

  Once I know she’s in a deep sleep, I slip out of the bedroom and into my office where I make some calls. It’s risky, calling these people, especially with the connections Arthur has, but I need to know that if Arthur decides keeping her alive is too risky, she’ll be safe. A new life, a new identity. A new fortune. All of it for my life.

  Veracity

  Blossom

  I wake to an empty bed. It takes me a while to get used to the mirrored ceiling hovering above me. One look at the mirror and I know I’m alone in the room. There’s no sign of Percivale. I stare up at the crown molding surrounding the mirror, and a fevered blush spreads across my skin as I replay watching us through the mirror. It was exceptionally sexy when he was fucking me. Watching the way he pounded into me. It was incredible, seeing how his muscles clenched and flexed above me, his strong body a work of art. My legs clamp together, and the pang in my backside has me flushing at the memory of how he took me last night. Even through the sting of pain, it couldn’t overpower all the sensations of pleasure he was eliciting. I never imagined it could feel like that. I definitely never thought I’d like it, much less want it to happen again.

  I disentangle from the sheets and pad down the hall, searching for Percivale. I didn’t have much of chance to explore the estate yesterday, but as I walk along the second floor, pushing open random doors, I take my time looking at everything. The top floor consists of the master bedroom, a plain guest bedroom with an en suite bathroom, and the final room is an office of sorts. That’s where I find Percivale. He’s leaning against the cherrywood-paneled wall, a cigarette in his hand and a tumbler full of liquid in the other. He looks lost in thought, staring off into the distance.

  His eyes find mine almost immediately, and his gaze scorches me as it trails up and down my body as he watches me.

  “Are you coming back to bed?”

  He doesn’t respond, but his eyes do narrow the slightest bit. I cringe, realizing that probably sounded too intimate for him. I open my mouth to say something, settle him, but he just empties the contents of his tumbler and puffs on the glowing stick.

  “I guess I’ll go…” I trail off, taking a step backward, out of the room. He takes one last puff before he closes the distance, pulling me into his arms, and kisses me. His mouth is firm in his intent, his tongue seeking entrance. My knees buckle when he deepens the kiss, demanding my breath. His tongue dances with mine, an
d I moan into his mouth. He presses his hips against mine, and I feel he’s already hard. My arms slide around the back of his neck, and a whimper escapes as he tugs my bottom lip through his teeth. The sting is delicious.

  He pulls away as cool as a cucumber and walks us back to the bedroom without so much as one word. We lie in bed, my body tangled with his, and I listen to his heartbeat. The pounding is steady and strong. I can tell he’s thinking by how quiet he is. He’s been doing that a lot lately. It seems like his mind is somewhere else half the time. I just wish I knew what it was all about. No doubt his job with the Cavalieri Della Morte or something more pressing.

  My mind drifts to my life. All the years I’ve wasted trying to put my past behind me, but really, all I’ve been doing is hiding. Percivale made me realize that. My chest tightens when I think about Ryan. I have conflicting feelings. I’m still angry at Percivale for what he did—storming into my life and bringing my worst nightmares to my front door. But I also can’t help but feel like he slayed demons I didn’t realize I was holding on to. He may not be a knight in shining armor, but he is a knight nonetheless—a dark knight.

  I’m frightened by Percivale. Deathly frightened of him, but more than that…I care for the man. I care for him to the point I’m starting to question my own sanity.

  I think back on my home life with my parents and try to imagine what his home was like when his family was still alive. Would he be the same person if they all lived? And if they weren’t so rooted in crime, how would he be different? Would I want him to be any different?

  The answer is, I don’t know.

  There’s a part of me that can’t help but think of what life would be like if Percivale was a different person. A regular guy and just a regular girl. Because that’s exactly what I am—regular. As average as they come. I can’t even picture the same rugged man fitting into my boring life.

  “If things were different…if we had different lives, do you think we’d have ever crossed paths or been together?”

  Percivale’s silent. Almost too silent.

  I shift against his chest so I can get a better look at him. His face is clear of all emotion, much like it always is, but his eyes, they’re blanketed in sadness. It’s a look I’m unfamiliar with when it comes to him. He’s normally so good at masking his emotions and hiding whatever is happening inside his head, but right now? I feel like I can see it all—see right through him.

  “I’d like to think if I had a different life…if I was a different person, then maybe, just maybe, I’d be the type of man that deserves someone like you.”

  That pain slicing through my chest is almost unbearable. That was not the answer I was expecting from him. Never in a million years did I think Percivale could make me feel bad for him. I swallow down the tears threatening to surface, and I place my palm against the scruff along his jaw. I graze my fingers over the rough blades of hair, marveling in how gorgeous he is this up close and personal.

  “What would you say if I thought we deserved each other?” My voice is quiet as I ask the question. I search his eyes for clues on how he can possibly be feeling, but they give nothing away. The stone wall guarding his emotions is effectively back in place. Percivale surprises the heck out of me when he reaches for my hand that’s grazing his skin and guides it toward his lips. He presses a kiss to my palm. The softness of the moment sends a zing of awareness down my spine and has my pulse pounding.

  “I’d say you were wrong.” My face falls at his words, but that doesn’t stop him, he pulls me in closer and takes my lips with his. The kiss is feather soft and incredible. It’s so different than anything we’ve ever shared before. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you go. I’ll never let you go, Blossom Jaymes. I won’t apologize for it either. You’re mine, whether you like it or not.”

  I know I’ve completely lost my mind by my reaction to his words. Instead of feeling frightened or disgusted, I feel oddly enthralled with the idea of being his and dare I say…happy. I’ve well and truly lost it.

  Tears glisten in my eyes, and a small, shaky smile spreads across my face. I press my lips against his and say, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  * * *

  The next morning, we finally roll out of bed after spending what felt like hours exploring each other’s bodies.

  “I don’t suppose you have any women’s clothing here? I’m not too fond of the idea of wearing these clothes for another day.”

  “Your clothes are in the car. I’ll get them once I figure out what the fuck we’re going to eat,” he says, slipping a plain black T-shirt over his head, covering his delectable abdomen.

  “I can get them?”

  Percivale freezes. His eyes shoot to mine where he watches me for a few tense seconds. I want to tell him to trust me, that I’m not going to run off and steal his car, but I want him to come to that conclusion himself.

  “Fine.” His voice sounds strained as he tosses me the keys. “They should be in the trunk.”

  With the keys in hand, I peck him on the lips and file down the staircase. I take my time, running my hand along every detail of the estate. At the landing I pause, trying to remember which way we came in through the day before.

  “The left.”

  A squeak slips past my lips and I jump, completely startled by his voice. I whirl around, eyes wide on Percivale as he stands a few steps above me, watching me with a dark look.

  “Right,” I whisper. Swallowing thickly, I shift on my heels, turning left. I recognize this as the way we came and head out the back door toward the car. I pop the trunk first, grabbing both bags, and even though I shouldn’t, I decide to throw open the passenger door and sit. I’ve seen Percivale rummage through the glove compartment a few times, mostly for his cigarettes, and my curiosity gets the best of me. Unlatching the compartment, I’m about to sift through the contents of paperwork and toss out his brand new pack of cigs when I spot something that makes my stomach turn. My hand freezes over the thick, black file folder, filled with papers. In big block letters is “Blossom Jaymes.”

  I know I should close the door and get out. I should head back to him and say I grabbed his clothes and didn’t find anything else in the process, but that’s not what I do at all. Breathing past the sick feeling brewing in my gut, I shakily reach for the file. With a trembling hand, I grip the folder and look around me inconspicuously. With all the trees on the property, it shades the car perfectly, making it impossible to read what’s in this folder clearly. Flicking on the overhead light to see better, I flip it open and the first page has my breath hitching.

  There in bold letters is every detail about me, along with photographs of my driver’s license, passport, birth certificate, and every other important document. Sweat breaks out across my brow line, and the urge to vomit is all consuming.

  What the hell…

  My heart is pounding in my chest as I flip through the file. Each page makes me sicker than the last. A copy of my bank records. My daily routine. High school transcripts. College transcripts. My cell phone logs. Family photos, high school photos. Candids of me walking down the street. Candids of me in my apartment, at the bakery, at the grocery store. All of it is me. Every little fucking detail is about me. Each page has little notes in the margins. Questions Percivale has been asking himself over time.

  *Innocent or guilty?

  *Who is she looking for?

  Tears are carving hot trails down my cheeks as I take it all in. Finally, everything starts to make sense. So much sense I feel sick to my stomach. I place a trembling hand over my lips to stop the sob that’s threatening to escape.

  He never accidentally stumbled into my bakery.

  He’d been watching me.

  He didn’t save me from that man because he just happened to be there. But because he was the one that was supposed to do it—finish the job.

  As I flip through the file, tears splashing onto the paperwork, I start to question everything. Was any of it real? Or was
this all some kind of ploy to get me to this Arthur guy? Some ploy to kill me?

  He’s had so many goddamn chances, why the fuck hasn’t he done it already?

  The answer suddenly hits me like a ton of bricks. Why would he need to get rid of me so soon if I spread my legs for him? I choke on the thought. A stabbing pain fills my chest with an icy sensation. It makes it hard to breathe.

  Swiping the tears off my face, I climb out of the car on wobbling legs and walk back into the house, looking for Percivale. When I find him, the tears fall harder and faster.

  “How could you,” I croak, and his head snaps up to me. His eyes widen as he takes in the tears streaming down my face, and he pushes up from whatever he was looking at and moves toward me, like he’s going to come to my aid, but his gaze drops down to the folder in my hand and he freezes. All emotion is wiped off his face, and the muscle in his jaw jumps.

  “You used me,” I say, jerking the file in my hand, all the evidence that is now in my possession. “You were going to kill me. That’s why you were there, at my bakery. To kill me. Wasn’t it?”

  He’s silent as he watches me, not even blinking, and it only makes me go from sad to angry.

  “Answer me!” I yell.

  Slowly, Percivale rounds the breakfast bar, approaching me like I’m a wild animal.

  “Yes,” he replies in a calm, smooth voice. “But that changed.”

  “Nothing changed!” I yell. “You were going to kill me! For something as stupid as caring for a friend!” I yell, on the verge of hysteria. He’s still trying to advance on me, and for each step forward, I take one back. “I’ve never done anything wrong in my life and you…you were…you were just going to kill me, because you could.” My voice cracks. “Because that’s what you do. You don’t care about me. I… God, I had sex with you! I let you touch me.” I gasp out a ragged breath, sobbing now. The tears fall in torrents down my cheeks. Like he sliced me open with a knife, letting me bleed out at his feet. I can feel him closing in on me, and it causes my heart rate to spike. I dart my gaze all over his kitchen, looking for something I can protect myself with.