Page 6 of Shame
“You’re a monster,” I grit out between his thrusts, praying he’ll be done soon. As tight as I am to him, he can’t be able to hold it much longer, can he?
Salvatore laughs, and grips my hips that are already pressed bruisingly hard against the edge of the desk, his thrusts intensifying. Then he goes still. All that is heard is the sounds of our combined labored breathing. I suppress the ache, try to float away, to separate mind from body.
“Yes, little girl. I’m a monster.”
CHAPTER THREE
Lucas
Nurturing a second bottle of beer in the common room at the far end of the mansion, my eyes rest on the pool table in the center. By the bar stand two casually clad men involved in a quiet conversation. They barely spared me a glance when I entered. In the evenings this place is filled with anywhere between five and twenty men and a few women, some of them might be girlfriends, but most I suspect are hookers. Not many sane women care for men like us: hardened murderers, rough and cruel. I’ve had my share of girls, but only outside the organization. I wouldn’t touch the kinds they bring here with a ten-foot pole.
My mind is yet again, inadvertently, drawn to the scared girl I drove here tonight, her deep brown almond shaped eyes so dulled with trepidation. She didn’t look like the rest of them. She didn’t look like she belonged here. I wonder what she’s being submitted to right now. My cock stirs a little at the thought, at the images of Salvatore fucking her hard.
I down the rest of the beer and slam the bottle to the table, making one of the men throw me a glance. What the fuck’s wrong with me? Am I just like him? Isn’t that exactly what I want, though? I want his power, to have everyone by my feet. My dad was a loser, my mom a depressed wreck who could never keep a job. I was always dirty and hungry, until my grandparents took me in at sixteen. They have a small farm in Iowa, and I learned how to handle horses, cows, and sheep, to sow and harvest crops. Really useful. Not. I hated every minute and couldn’t wait to get old enough to get back to the city. At eighteen I hitchhiked all the fucking way back to San Francisco, leaving them a note, with no explanation and no way to reach me. I wanted to start over. I want a life, a house, a car, cash, girls, and power. I want to decide my own fate.
I twitch as the double glass doors slam open and one of Salvatore’s butlers appears.
“Get out of here. There’ll be guests tonight. You’re not on the list.” He’s in his sixties, bald and clean shaven, never a speck on his black suit.
Of course I’m not on some fucking guest list. I stand. “When does he want me to drive the girl back?”
“When someone contacts you, now get lost.”
“Yeah, fuck, fine,” I mutter, grab my phone and my jacket and breeze past him, passing through one large room after the other on my way to the front door. Some are offices. Some are common rooms, a couple of them dining rooms. The private chambers, living rooms, bedrooms, are all in another wing of the house. Few people are let in there.
Ivan isn’t at his usual place, which I find odd. As I stride through the hallway, I hear a woman whimper from behind the office door. I clench my jaw and slam open the door to the outside world, taking the steps down to the driveway two at a time.
As I put the key in the ignition, I glance up at the window to his office, a curtain covering it, and a slew of images run through my mind, one fantasy wilder than the other. Tonight, I’m glad I’m not her.
The couple in the apartment above mine are at it again. They stomp around, cursing, calling each other names that would make most people blush. I’m used to it. I’m also used to the noises when the rhythmic squeaking starts, and the moans. They fight and fuck with an exhausting intensity, but when I allow myself to think about it, it makes me feel lonely. I need a purpose. I need to get fucking laid.
The girl haunts me. Her tight little black dress. Her tiny feet in those golden stilettos, a thin gold chain around one ankle. She had such a soft voice, the lushest lips… My cock stirs, and I can’t fight it. Above me, they’re not fighting anymore, the moans getting louder and louder. I unzip and grab my thick hard length, wishing it was her little hand around it. I imagine my fingers in her warm, tight pussy before I thrust inside. My stomach tightens and as one final roar penetrates through the walls, I come hard, soaking my shirt with loads of cum.
Fuck, I wish it was me and not that monster in the mansion that had her right now. I’d take good care of her. He doesn’t deserve her.
Carmen
The man behind me, the capo, the self-declared beast, pulls out and then I feel something warm and wet on my ass, something that quickly turns cold and wet. More wetness. A finger, smearing it. I can do anal. But this man will rip me. My belly tightens with pure fear and I clench up as he pushes a couple of fingers inside, deep, without any other preparation.
“Mmm, so tight for me. Had a man here before, Carmen?” He thrusts his fingers, in and out.
I don’t answer. What does he want me to say? Of course I have. He knows what I am. I sell my body every day. Every orifice, every piece of me can be bought and belong to someone else for a while. And another. And another. What the fuck does he want me to say?
I go with the truth. “Yes.” My voice trembles, and I hate it.
“And still you clench up as if you’re afraid?”
“You’ll break me, sir.”
He laughs. “She’s learning, Ivan.”
“She sure is, Mr. Salvatore.”
The sound of my heartbeat roars in my ears. All I feel is the cold hard desk under my chest and cheek and the thick cock that is now pushing to force its way inside me. I swallow hard and fight to go slack, to relax, but when he doesn’t pause at that first resistance but just pushes on, I can’t help the wail that escapes my lips.
“Breathe, Carmen.” He stills in me, giving me a moment to recuperate. “I know you can take me. Don’t resist it, or I’ll rip you.”
I hyperventilate as he keeps pushing, pulls out a little, pushes deeper. My ass is burning, and I squirm under him as I fight to relax and let him in.
