Chapter 112
CORINA
I don’t think I’ve ever had this much sex in one day. By the time evening comes, I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve done it. And that’s not counting all the fooling around we did in-between. Speaking of which, I should probably take note so I can accurately deduct my debt. But I doubt I will be able to keep score. Dante is insatiable. And even though I never thought of myself as such, apparently so am I. I can’t seem to get enough of him. From the moment he took me to the shower, till now, I don’t think I’ve ever been able to think or focus on anything except him. Even as he’s gone and left me alone, I’m still thinking of him. My pussy is sore from all the pounding, but it’s still tingling for more.
“How’s your cheek?” I hear him say as he wheels in a cart filled with food and a bottle of wine on ice.
“I can’t believe you’re asking now after all that sucking I did. But it’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.” Must be all the orgasms.
“Your food is ready,” he says, opening a platter. With nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, he looks like the porn version of a waiter. My stomach rumbles when the smell of the food wafts into my nostrils, making it even more tempting. I might as well put on some clothes so I can eat and get off the bed with that thought in mind when he pauses at my movements and asks, “Where are you going?” “To the bathroom. To grab my clothes.”
“Sit,” he says as he places the food onto the table in the suite. “No one needs clothes to eat.”
“You say that while you have a towel wrapped around your genitals?” He removes the towel in response and sits down on the chair, naked. “Sit.”
There’s something about his confidence that gives me a boost in esteem. I steel my nerves and stride over to him and sink in the opposite chair. He passes me a welldecorated plate that makes the lamb chop, potatoes and sauce look like an art piece. “It’s tough to eat something so good looking,” I say, adoring the plate.
He looks at me with a fork, a knife on the ready. “Why not? It’s meant to be eaten.”
I wonder if getting served food like this all the time makes you oblivious to the artistry. The more time I spend here, the harder it becomes for me to connect back to my world. It’s hard to remember who you’re with when they are giving you amazing orgasms and delicious food afterward. It lulls one’s brain. I make a resolution. Never to forget or be tempted by the trappings. It could all come crashing down at any moment. I look up at the handsome man opposite me. My captor. The one who’s put me in this position and I find it hard to hate him as much as I used to. There’s something about him, about us, that changed sometime between the punch and now. Is it the sex? It can’t be just that?
“What are you thinking?” I’m caught staring at him and I feel like I’m gawking.
“Nothing,” I say.
“I was thinking of going out tonight.”
“Oh.” Disappointment coming out of nowhere sets in. Was he going to his other women? Or was he attending a function with them? And why did I care? It’s not as if I was one of them, nor did I aspire to be.
“You’re coming with me.” Elation. And immediately I want to slap myself. “You didn’t have to pout,” he adds.
“I wasn’t pouting! I was just surprised that you wanted to go somewhere after just coming back. Aren’t you tired?”
“I thought…” he looks at me with that inquisitive eye of his. As if I said or did something unexpected, “I thought you would be bored and wanted to go out.” That was before he came. Now I don’t feel like it. “Can we stay in? You’ve drained me of all the energy I previously had.”
He smiles. “It’s not as if you haven’t drained mine as well.”
My cheeks heat up. I return my gaze to my food and cut a slice of the meat. It tastes so good; I have to bite my lip so I won’t moan. It doesn’t take much for me to devour the plate, followed by a sumptuous dessert that I eat with as much vigor.
After we finish our dinner, Dante and I take another shower. This one is less erotic than the last one but no less sensual. We settle into our robes; he didn’t want to wear clothes and sit on a bench on the balcony with a bottle of wine. The wine makes me more talkative than usual and I find myself telling him things I rarely tell people. At one point, he asks how I came to the city and the industry.
“I was looking for something that would pay the bills that weren’t in the sex industry or the food industry.”
“And you thought you’d try the gambling industry?”
I shrug. “What about you? What brought you here?”
“Family business.”
I laugh. “I shouldn’t have asked that.”
He looks down. “My father wanted me to be a lawyer. I hate law. I went to one pre-law class and changed my major. He didn’t know I didn’t plan to go to law school until graduation when he found out I got a degree in business and finance and not in poli-science, like he thought.”
“On graduation day?”
“Yep. I mean, part of that is his fault for not constantly checking on what I was doing with my life, which, frankly, I’m happy with. He even tried to enroll me at Harvard Law School. He got a place for me there, but by then I was already embroiled in the business.”
“I don’t know. I find it surprising that the head of a mafia family didn’t want his first-born son to head it too, at some point.”
“I think he wanted Gio, my brother, to take over. He thought I didn’t have what it takes.”
“The second oldest?”
He nods. “Which is kind of funny,” he chuckles, “because Gio isn’t as committed to it as I am.”
“What about your mother? What did she think about your father’s meddling?”
I feel him tighten. He goes silent and I think he will not say anything more, but then he says, “She died when I was young.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.” His tone goes from casual to wooden and matter of fact. It’s a cue to not inquire further, and I don’t.
“Well, whatever he thought, he was wrong.” I find the idea of someone thinking Dante wouldn’t be able to head a criminal enterprise laughable. To me, he’s the definition of the Mafia.Original from NôvelDrama.Org.
“And you know this how?”
“The way you do your things. You seem very dedicated to whatever it is you do.”
He looks up at me with a glint in his eyes. “Do I?”
“I tell it like I see it.”
He smiles. “My sister would have liked you.”
“You have a sister?”
“Had.” His mood darkens. “She died when she was just a teenager.”
“Oh my god, I’m sorry. Was she sick?”
He shakes his head. “Saccone…” he trails off and glances away from me. Did Saccone do something to her? Is that why Saccone was his enemy? When he faces me again, the mood has shifted. “Let’s talk about something else.” His hand slides up inside my robe and lands on my thigh. He caresses my thigh lazily, almost as if he’s unaware that he’s doing it. I lay my head on his shoulder as we watch the stars and listen to the distant buzz of the city. It feels so natural and comfortable. I want the moment to go on forever.
“You didn’t tell me about your daddy issues,” he says.
“I don’t have them. I never knew my father. I wish I did. You know what, on second thought, I’m glad I didn’t otherwise I would have the same troubles you had.”
“Only if he’s a mafia boss.”
We both chuckle. My gaze wanders to the opposite building. I see that same flash of glass again and my mind immediately goes to the first time we had sex. “Is your friend watching us now, by any chance? We must be giving him a boring show if he is.”
He turns to face me. “Why? Do you want to give him a better one?”
“No. I just saw the flash of his telescope again.” A rumble of laughter comes out of him.
“What’s so funny?”
“It’s not a telescope and there is no friend in that building.”
My jaw drops. All this time I thought some stranger had seen us having sex and all this time he was playing with me. I was dreading the day, if it ever came, when I would have to come into contact with this friend of his. “I’m speechless.
Do you enjoy making a fool out of me?”
“I remember you getting extremely aroused by the idea.”
“Whatever the case, I’m not ruling it out of my book as an exhibitionist act. It felt like one.”
He pulls me by my thigh towards him and I slide willingly until my side is plastered against his. “I see you’re keeping score.”
“I have to if I want to be free.”
An emotion flashes in his eyes. In this low light on the balcony, it’s tough to tell what it is. I discard my attempts to decipher what it was when his hand makes further travels up my thigh. I jump when I feel the tip of his hand on the apex of my groin. His other hand goes around my back to hold me down. “Who says you’ll be free of me after your debt is paid?” He drops his head down on my neck and bites at my nape.