Page 23 of Capo
Eight
Luciano
They are in the shower forever, but I let them. I’m ridiculously satisfied, both mind and body, in a way I rarely experience. Burying my cock in the whore’s throat as I watched the broken and naked young Chloe’s eyes gloss over, her lips part, her breathing quicken, was beautifully wicked. She’s in pain and scared for her life, and still her body betrayed her and longed for my hand in her cunt.
The intercom cracks to life. “Mr. Salvatore.”
“Yes,” I mutter, ripped out of my fantasies.
“Mr. Jones is by the gates,” says Mike, one of my guards at the front gate. “Devon Jones.”
I look at the clock. Five fucking hours late. “What does he have to say for himself?”
It’s quiet for a few moments, then Mike’s voice comes back through the loudspeaker, “He says he’s got the money.”
I listen to the clattering of the shower. It’s seven in the evening and my stomach growls. The cooks are preparing dinner and I want to personally throw my new toy in chains before I eat.
“All right, let him in. Put him in my second office down in the north wing. And lock him in. I’ll have a word with him when I have the time.”
“Yes, sir.”
I spin my chair around as the door to the bathroom slams open and the whore comes rushing out, her chest heaving, her long blonde hair soaked, laying plastered over her head, dripping on my floor. She half-runs toward me and bends to pick up her dress. I put a foot on it, holding it down.
“Wipe off the fucking floor first.”
A brief sneer across her face is immediately replaced by delicious fear that makes my cock stir.
“Yes, sir.”
“Actually, leave it. On your knees.” I pull down my zipper and grab my cock. She immediately sinks to her knees, looking up at me pleadingly, her mascara smeared under her eyes. I smirk and wipe her cheek with the pad of my thumb, then I grab her hair and put my cock to her lips. “Suck it like your life depends on it.”
Her eyes are wide and sad as she obeys, like they always do. It disgusts me. Everyone crawls, hurries to please me, no one resists. She cries as I stab the back of her throat, barely turned on anymore. “Make me come,” I growl and pull her hair harder. With shaking hands, she cups my balls and swallows around me, sucking, fingering my ass. It’s a lame fucking release, and I hate her for it. My come dribbles down on her chest and her breaths hitch. I lean in, nose to nose. “I’ll have your ass later. Get the fuck out of my sight.”
Sobbing, she scrambles to get her dress. “Now,” I roar, watching her flee my office, naked, clutching the red fabric in her arms, her butt disappointingly pale and unwhipped. My thoughts turn to the one who won’t leave. Guess I’ll have a go at her ass instead.
I open the laptop and intend to do some more work. I wonder how the planning for the Crimson Corp is coming along. I’m just about to type an email to Christian when I slam the lid closed again. There’s wailing from the shower, and no matter how enticing, I’m hungry. I grab my suit jacket and pull it on as I call for Ivan to take care of her. We meet in the doorway.
“What do you want me to do with her, Boss?”
I think a little. What do I want? “Put a collar on her and chain her to the wall in the room under my personal bedroom.”
“Do you want me to turn the heat up? It’s a bit chilly down there.”
“No.”
“Clothes?”
“No.”
Ivan doesn’t move a muscle, doesn’t betray anything he’s thinking. “Yes, sir.”
I take a step out into the hallway, already smelling delicious cooking, then I come to a halt. “And Ivan. No one sees her.”
“Define no one, sir.”
“Only you and me.”
“That will be hard. The house is full of people.”