My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Ep. 6 Consequences (2 page)

“
Don’t make promises you can’t
fulfill.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my knife. I
flicked it open, taking pleasure in seeing her flinch, the
troya
not as impenetrable
as she made out. I almost laughed at my thoughts, because I was
definitely going to penetrate her.

I circled Camila, purposely unsettling
her. She followed my gaze, making sure she faced me. She looked
like a trapped animal right before being taken down.

“
Move over there,” I said,
pointing to the wall next to the door.

Her
gaze flicked to the chain attached to
the wall, her expression horrified. She shook her head, her eyes
showing a flicker of fear.

“
You either do as you’re
told or I’ll slice you open to see whether you truly have a
heart.”

She backed away from me, heading for the
chair next to the chain, her expression telling me she knew I meant
what I said.

“
Attach it to your waist,” I
said, indicating to the chain.

She picked
it up, doing what I had
ordered. As soon as she’d clicked the links together, locking
herself in place, I turned back to the woman who interested me the
most. Rita was watching me closely, probably trying to calculate
what I would do next. I moved to the center of the room and placed
the knife on the floor, then straightened to my full height, all
six-foot-one. I started loosening my tie, the material fluttering
to the floor as I slipped it off. Rita’s gaze followed it for a
second, before moving to my hands as I flicked open the top button
on my crisp white shirt. I opened another and another, slowly
revealing my chest and stomach, a strip tease to arouse her. Rita
exhaled a shaky breath. I knew what she was thinking, that I was
going to rape her, but she couldn’t be further from the truth.
Instead, I was going to taunt her, to make her want me so fucking
bad it eventually broke down her barrier of denial. She would still
want to attack me, but for other reasons, carnal ones. I imagined
her ripping my clothes off, clawing at my body as she climbed onto
it—using me for her own pleasure. The memory of her riding me in my
bathtub returned, making my
cazzo
strain against my pants.

I shrugged off my shirt, letting it fall
to the floor. Rita watched silently. Even Camila was quiet behind
me, no curse words thrown my way. I was the center of their
attention, a slave to their desires. I wondered whether they
thought of me when they touched themselves, wishing it was me
bringing them to completion.

I toed off my shoes and socks,
unbuttoned my pants, then pulled down the zipper.

“
What are you doing?” Rita
croaked out.

I hooked my thumbs into
the waistband.
“Giving you what you desire.”

“
I don’t desire you, so
put your clothes back on.”

“
You don’t truly mean that,
because I know you want to fuck me. It’s written all over your
face, and those nipples of yours don’t lie. I know what arousal
looks like, and I would bet my household your pussy is wet for me,
aching for my cock to fill it.” I walked towards her. Rita got to
her feet, looking ready to attack again. I stopped outside of her
reach, taunting her with a smile, then before she could react, I
stepped forward and quickly ran my finger through her folds. She
froze in place, her face shocked. I took a step back, once again
outside of her striking zone. “Definitely wet,” I said, grinning
wide.

She snapped out of her
shock.
“I am
not!”

“
Such a liar,” I said, licking
my finger.

Her jaw flexed, but she remained
silent, because she knew I was right.

My gaze moved down her body,
stopping on her pussy
. “You have such a sweet taste; I’d love to lick
you out.” I took a hold of my waistband, and pushed my pants down
along with my briefs. I stepped out of them, now baring my body to
her.

Her face went slack, the woman looking
stunned.

I smiled. “I do tend to render women
speechless.”

She blinked, then as though a
light had switched on, her face turned angry again.
“You arrogant son
of a bitch,” she snapped. “I don’t want you, so get that into your
thick head, and if you want proof, unchain me so I can kick your
slimy Italian ass. I’ll teach you a lesson on how to treat a
woman.”

“
You’re not a
woman
,
you’re a slave, and the only thing touching my ass in the future
will be your lips.” I turned and ran my hand over it. “I know you
love my
culo
. Are you dying to fuck it again?”

“
I. Don’t. Want. You. You
fucking asshole!”

“
You really are obsessed with
fucking assholes.”

“
It’s an expression, you
idiot!”

“
Not with you, and how about you
stop pretending that you don’t want me and lie back on the bed so I
can pleasure you
r pussy.”

“
Fuck off!”

“
Drop the defiant act, it’s
getting tiresome
.”

Her upper lip twitched. “I’m not
acting.”

“
Your mouth says one thing, but
you
r eyes
tell me another, because,
bella,
I can see fire burning behind them.” I ran my hand
over my cock, which was rapidly hardening, the blood rushing to it,
filling for her. “By the way, you spoke without permission, which
means I need to punish you, and since slapping doesn’t work I will
have to be more inventive.” I glanced over my shoulder at Camila,
who was glaring at me. I refocused on Rita, my smile widening. “Do
you like her?”

Rita’s gaze moved to Camila. “I don’t
know her.”

“
So, in the four days you’ve
been in here together you haven’t asked her a single
question?”

She remained silent.

“
I thought so. You like asking
questions. I think it’s the FBI in you. You probably think you can
save her, but she’s not worth saving; she’s even more evil than
me.”

“
No one’
s more evil than you—except for
the
Padre
and your brother.”

I flinched, her mention of
Alberto cutting me. She didn’t know that I had killed him, knew
nothing of the pain I was going through. She frowned at me,
probably wondering why h
er words had made me react. I closed my eyes,
needing to rein in my emotions, to stop the pain from bubbling
over, affecting what I was meant to do. I didn’t come in here to
think of Alberto; I came here so I could forget—if only for a few
seconds.

Once I was under control, I opened my
eyes. Rita was staring at me, her expression worried, undoubtedly
over Jagger, who Alberto had taken from the cells, my brother’s
lust for our cousin unholy. I could see that Rita wanted to ask me
if Jagger was alright, but she held her tongue, maybe because she
knew something bad had happened. Did she think Jagger was dead?
Would she mourn him? She had been locked up with him in the House
of Whores. I wondered whether they had drawn closer in that time,
because she seemed to have a soft spot for him. Was I jealous? Fuck
no, because Jagger wouldn’t want her now. If anything, I doubted he
even wanted to live after what my brother had done to
him.

“
You have no right to speak of
my brother.” I took a calming breath, then continued: “You will not
utter a word about him again or I
will
fuck you like a hole—no pleasure, only pain
involved.”

She remained silent. I sneered
at her, aching to hurt her as much as I was hurting, to cause her
emotional rather than physical pain.
I glanced back at Camila, who was looking
at me with curiosity. I threw her a glare, then refocused my
attention on Rita. I would use Rita’s own “good guy” morals against
her, punishing her through Camila.

I pointed at Camila.
“Everything I do to her will be because of your
disobedience.
If I slap her, it’s because you spoke out of turn, if I
fuck her, it’s because you can’t admit to wanting me, and if
you
dare
speak of my
famiglia
again, I will torture one of hers. Understand?”

Rita
remained still, looking as though she
wasn’t sure how to reply to my angry words, then ever so slightly,
a nod came, my first breakthrough. To train her I needed leverage,
and Camila was going to be just that.

I turned and walked over
to
my knife,
swiping it up off the floor. “Up,” I said, heading for
Camila.

Keeping her eyes
on me, she got to
her feet, her chain jangling from the movement.

“
Take two steps
forward.”

She
obeyed me, the chain stopping her
from moving any further.

I moved behind her and sat down on the
chair. “Sit on my lap,” I said, taking a hold of my hard
cock.

Camila looked down at
it and shook her
head.

“
Sit on my lap,” I
repeated.

“
Fuck you, Frano!”

I placed my knife next to my cock.
“Which one would you prefer to sit on?”

“
The knife.”

“
Okay, sit on it
then.”

She shook her head again.

“
Don’t say something you don’t
mean,
cara
.”

“
I’m not your
dear!”

“
You used to call me
caro
, even using the endearment after I left you.” I ran my
hand up and down my cock. “You also used to beg to ride my
cazzo
, yet now you would rather sit on my knife? Make up your
mind.”

“
You have imprisoned my
famiglia!
”

“
Which means I have leverage
over you. By the way, your mother isn’t too happy with her
accommodation. I guess she doesn’t like damp cells. Do you wish for
her to be moved to a nicer prison, maybe her own
bedroom?”

“
In exchange for you
fucking me?”

“
No, in exchange for you
capitulating to me. It can be you licking my feet, bouncing on my
cock, or whatever the hell takes my fancy. I don’t really care,
just as long as you submit.”

Her jaw clenched. “If I do this, you must
put my mother in her bedroom.”

“
Now, that’s not what submitting
means. It means
you
must do what
I
say; then I
might
think about being nice to your mother instead of letting
her rot in your family’s prison.”

She grimaced at me, but still nodded.
“Where are the condoms?”

I smiled. “If I wear a condom, I can’t get
you pregnant.”

“
Which is the
point!
”

“
But I want you pregnant with
my
bambino
or
bambina.
”

Her eyebrows shot up.
“Why?”

“
To
eliminate the Donatelli line by
making them D’Angelos.” I ran my hand up and down my cock again.
“So, sit on my
cazzo
.”

She shook her head.

“
Do it or I will slice
your throat open.”

She raised her chin. “I’d rather die
than spawn your devils.”

I stood up and placed the knife to her
throat. “Do you truly choose death over getting pregnant by me,
Camila?”

She tilted her chin up even
more. “
Sì
.”

I drew the knife across her throat, but
only enough to sting. She hissed and stepped away from the
blade.

I lowered the knife to her stomach.
“How about I gut you instead?”

She shook her head and went to take
another step back, but the chain attached to her snapped into
place, stopping her from moving any further.

I ran the knife’s tip across her soft
belly, making her flinch. “I have only stabbed one person in the
stomach before.” I paused, my emotions choking me again, something
I didn’t want her to see, the woman not giving a shit about
Alberto. I breathed out, forcing myself to say the words. “It was
my brother.”

Her eyes went wide, the
gasp
from
the other side of the room telling me that Rita was also
shocked.

My hand clenched around the
knife, my knuckles hurting from the pressure. “Which means stabbing
you would mean nothing to me.
Nothing
. If anything, it will make me feel better,
because at least I will have someone else’s blood on my hands.” I
sat back down on the chair. “So, sit on my fucking
cock!”

Camila stepped closer, her chain jangling.
She turned around, showing me that peachy ass of hers.

“
Take a hold of my cock, and if
you hurt it, I will color my hands with your blood,” I
said.