Page 11 of His Vicious Vow
Sandro
I send the SUV around the corner and hit the button on the jammer to stop the recording, audio as well as visual going on in Carina’s home by Milos Levin and probably Carlo too. Getting inside isn’t difficult, the front door is unlocked. Did anyone in the house have sense?
Once I’m inside anger flares inside me that this is where Carlo stuck his woman and kids while he lives in the huge place he does. It’s tired and stuck in the eighties. No way would I let my kid or anyone I cared for live in a place this sad and depressing. One room is empty except for a bed, the other is the master and I smell her mom’s perfume inside. Her room is locked.
It takes two minutes to get inside. It’s nothing like what I expected. There is only one bookshelf along a wall. But it’s not filled with the manga, art, or even the toys I thought I would find. There are only wigs on Styrofoam heads and pictures of her and her sister and several of her with who I’m guessing is her grandmother. Interesting, not one of her mother to be found. A pink vanity is in the corner covered in makeup. The room is minimalism in white and bland in a way unlike the Carina I encountered today.
White sheets and comforter are on a plain white wrought iron bed, a white fluffy rug is on the floor. There’s no color except for the wigs in a dizzying rainbow, pink, black, blue, purple, green with varying shades of those colors. I open the closet door. Even in here, it’s not her.
Sonofabitch, she’s depressed and planning her exit.
The purchases from the dispensaries flash. She spent a lot of money, increasing with every month since December last year. Where is her stash? I scan the room, the edge of the bookcase niggles at me. I go down on my knees and sure enough. It’s a false bottom. I open the small box. Damn it, there are two different pipes, a vape pen that’s empty, an ounce in different flower and another ounce in gummies. This isn’t casual use, she’s self-medicating.
My phone goes off with a text warning she’s on her way home. I sit down at the bottom of her bed. I draft an email for Natasha for all the stuff I need her to get ready for Carina, that includes a therapist.
She opens the door, her face set and determined. Oh yeah, she thinks she’s going somewhere. I save the email and slide my phone into my pocket.
“My dear wife, I was beginning to worry and wonder if I would have to go looking for you.”
Her green eyes go wide and her beautiful face goes from shock to fear, anger then a flash of lust before she attempts to hide all of it. I chuckle, I can’t help it, she’s so damn easy to read. “Carina, please, sit down. We need to talk. I apologize for how we began at your father’s home. I will admit, I might have been—”
“A complete and total fucker?” She mutters as she crosses her arms across her chest. “I’m not sitting on the bed with you. What the hell do you think you’re doing in here?”
I bite back a laugh at how her face scrunches up. Why the fuck is she so damn cute and sexy? It doesn’t feel right. Cute is not sexy. Cute is puppies and kittens and little kids. You don’t want to fuck cute and if you do, you’re fucked up in the head. But fuck me if she’s not cute and sexy and my cock aches harder and harder with every minute she’s in front of me.
“I was trying to be honest. To be open with you in regards to what I expect. You are not the only one who woke up this morning not expecting to be engaged before the day ended. I thought it was the best way for the both of us. Get out what we want and are willing to do. I would have asked you for your wants and—”
“What I want is you to leave me alone. I don’t want to get married, especially not to someone like you.” She spits out the words at me.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, someone like me?” I’m up. How does she do it, take me from calm to seething with anger in seconds? Women do not do this to me, no one does this to me. I am calm. I am ice cold—ask anyone. Men and women have called me a robot. But she opens her mouth and I’m a box of TNT with her as the ignitor.
She backs up. “You fuck beautiful women by the truckload. I’m too fat for you. It’s your way or no way. I’m not built for that. The more someone tells me no, the harder I fight for it. Everyone exists for you. And god forbid someone doesn’t agree with you. I like fighting. You also carry two weapons on you at all times and have no problem using them or your bare hands to kill someone. You are NOT what I want in this life or the next.”
I follow her. Her breath hitches and her arms tighten over her chest. Oh yeah, she feels this too. “I do not fuck beautiful women by the truckload. When I was your age and up until my late twenties, yeah I fucked probably more than my fair share. I grew out of that. I’ve fucked exactly four women in the last year, all of them were your size or barely smaller. I like my women soft, sweet, and dirty. Say you’re fat again and I’ll spank you so hard you can’t sit down for a week.”
Does her breath hitch because of fear of a spanking or longing for one? Either one sounds good to me. “I’m not completely unreasonable, you come to me with a good argument and I’ll listen to it. As far as anyone existing for me, I’ve been raising a little sister who is only a year younger than you since she was seven years old. Since you’re the little sister, let me tell you something you might not know. Nothing in the world is for me—it’s all for her. That’s the way it goes as the oldest. I don’t regret it or resent it because she made it worth it to me. She also sees the word no as a dare. As far as fighting, I do like the way your cheeks get all flushed. I like the preview of what you will look like after you come for me.”
Green eyes go wide, she blinks fast. “You don’t want me. You said I’m childish and need to grow up. That I live in a fantasy world. I’m not stupid enough to let you fuck me when you don’t want me, just a willing woman—excuse me girl as you keep calling me.”
“Look, I screwed up. I read your file and judged you based on it. I understand why you have preferred to live in Sailor Moon cosplay and not spoken to your father. Who wouldn’t want to be a mythical, powerful princess in disguise? Do you have some growing up to do? Fuck yeah, just like any twenty-two-year-old. I didn’t like being reminded you also don’t have a choice in this. And like the asshole I am I blamed you for wanting you despite your age.”
Her hands come down from across her chest as she takes a step back. I follow. Fuck, her breasts are heaving with each breath. A flush is spreading across her face and down her neck. When her back meets the wall I raise my arms and lay my palms flat on each side of her, caging her in. She smells as sweet as cotton candy with a hint of woman. Breathing deep, I inhale her into my lungs. Christ, she’s wet for me.
I lower my head until my mouth is at her ear. “I cannot wait to see your body shaking and trembling as you come for me. All I want to know is if your pussy is as sweet as it smells.”
She shakes her head, ever so slightly as if she’s afraid to move.
Giving into need, I decide to show her how wrong her no is—for both of us. I catch her chin. I’m so fucked because that crazy electric shock is there again. When I grabbed her by her arm in Carlo’s place, I was certain it was a static thing from one or the both of us. I was lying to myself because this is nothing as simple as a static shock. Not when it’s so strong I feel it all the way down to my toes. Mine. Carina belongs to me, thank fuck because I will never let her go now that I’ve touched her.
My thumb slides over her bottom lip. “Despite what your father might think, I’m glad you aren’t a virgin. I don’t have any experience with them. While I’m big, I promise I’ll make it good for you. Your pussy will run like a river down my throat. Only once every bone in your body is mush will I fuck you, no pain, only pleasure for you. I promise.”
Her lips part as she exhales a shaky breath. Lust takes over sending my mouth down on her. Soft, sweet, so fucking sweet. Her kiss isn’t untutored but it isn’t nearly as expert as I thought it would be. Women loved kissing, if a man really knew what he was doing it was the best damn foreplay he could do. Anger flares through me. Have men not given her everything she deserved? Did they not worship her luscious body, made love to her mouth the way they did her pussy?
She catches me by surprise when she begins sliding down the wall. I catch her in my arms and carry her to the bed—not letting her mouth go—I can’t. I follow her down. Her gasp is loud as she rips her mouth from mine. Tearing open the pink shirt, satisfaction fills me when the buttons scatter on the floor. Fear is in her eyes, no, no fear. As badly as I want to pull up the stretchy camisole, I go after what I’m ravenous for.
The skirt is too fucking short. It takes a few tries before it finally rips to her waist. My cock jumps at the wet slit glaring up at me through the sexy pink thong she’s wearing. I tear them off her. Bare, damn, I was not expecting that. I’m a dirty old man for being this hard over someone as young as she is. Except her wet pussy lips glistening up at me tells me she wants this as badly as I do.
I’m not proud of the way I fall on her. The taste of her explodes on my tongue. She tastes of cotton candy so damn sweet and I want more. I want all of her. Her moan of my name spurs me on, makes my cock so hard it hurts. Allowing my tongue to sink between her lips sends her hands into my hair. Two fingers open her wider to taste every inch all of her is delicious.