My little sinner was a hot piece of ass, and it was throwing me off my game.
I hadn’t expected it, her beauty and youth getting the better of me for a second, but I thought I’d hid it successfully. Either way, she was now stashed in the trunk of my car, and I counted the hundred dollar bills to the footboy, Federico, as we stood in the alley.
“Please,” he begged me, his former careless expression long gone and replaced by puppy eyes. “Please, let me off the hook. Perdonami, padre.”
“Peccatore,” I growled at him. “The sins of the Father are never forgotten, asino.”
I slammed the money into his palm, and he nearly cried at the sight of it. I didn’t give a shit though. I had more important things to deal with than a fucking pissy little kid.
“Get your ass home,” I growled at him, and he disappeared into the shadows.
I put my wallet back in my pocket and strolled to the car. The girl was safely inside the trunk, and there was no way she was going anywhere anytime soon. She was all mine to do with as I pleased. I had so many exciting plans for her.
My mind filled with images of her. Hurting her. Humiliating her. Making her fucking confess. Oh yes, I was going to have fun with my little sinner. I was going to twist her this way and that until I’d broken every bone, every vestige of will she had left in her tight, young little body. I was going to break her so delicately she would become addicted to me. I was going to make her submit to me completely—the ultimate punishment for a whore like her.
She deserved it.
She would pay for what she was guilty of.
I’d make sure of it.
I climbed into the driver’s seat and sped out of the back alley so fast the gravel crunched beneath my wheels like broken bones. While I was driving, I thought about the bounty in the back of the car.
Redhead. Nothing like her father. Must take after Mommy dearest, then. Those eyes, big and green, rimmed with thick black lashes. That mouth with a slash of red lipstick, like a fucking kid playing with Mom’s makeup. She looked younger than her eighteen years but trying so very desperately to appear older. She was going to be a fun one to break. I would take my time with this one.
The drive took about thirty minutes, but I wasn’t worried. The girl was passed the fuck out, and it would be a couple hours yet before she came to. It gave me more than enough time to get her where I needed her.
I thought of the room I’d prepared for her. Nothing like the princess shit she was used to at home. What the girl needed was fucking faith. And she was going to meet God the way I wanted her to. On her knees, with my dick so deep down her throat, she couldn’t even beg for mercy.
I smiled to myself as I drove back, my phone flashing with an incoming call. I furrowed my brow and answered the call against my better judgment, regretting it the second I heard my brother’s voice.
“You didn’t do it, did you?” Stefan barked, and I rolled my eyes.
“What the fuck does it matter?” I asked him roughly. “Why do you care, stupido?”
“Because it’s my ass on the line when it all goes tits up,” he snarled. “It’s my balls her dad’s gonna chop off if you fuck this up!”
“Relax,” I said calmly, glancing at the rearview mirror. “I’ve got shit under control here. Why don’t you go play with one of your whores while I do some actual work.”
“Fuck you, Lucian,” Stefan growled, but I only laughed in response. “Do the right thing, for God’s sake.”
“Watch out, fratello,” I told him. “Don’t say the Lord’s name in vain.”
I cut the call just as I pulled up in front of my house.
I barely noticed the way it looked anymore. I’d gotten so used to it. It no longer held any beauty for me. All it was now was a place to stash the girl, to torture her and get out every secret she held dear until she confessed her multitude of sins.
Getting out of the car, I headed for the trunk and opened it. The girl inside laid motionless and beautiful in her drug-induced sleep. She was striking, not that it changed a thing.
I picked her up and carried her into the house. The maid shuffled past me, her eyes fearfully downcast, knowing better than to ask questions. I took the girl into my basement, where her room had been prepared. There was a big mattress on the floor, a toilet in the corner. Nothing like the shit she’d been used to.
I set her down on the mattress and looked down at her once again. And just like earlier, her innocence and youth took me by surprise.
You’re a sick fuck, fratello, my brother’s voice echoed in my head. He hated me doing this, but there was no other way.
I stared at her lying there and leaned down on an impulse, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. And suddenly, her little fist flew forward, with no force at all. Her eyes opened wide and she fought me viciously. But I was twice her size, and I knew how to take down a bad little bitch like her.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I growled at her. “You’ll regret every move, sinner.”
“Let me go,” she managed weakly. “Let me go, please, I haven’t done anything wrong…”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I barked at her.
I pushed her on her back, and she looked terrified. A sudden desire to rip off that dress that didn’t suit her at all took over me, and I decided not to resist it. Why would I, anyway? I was going to do a lot worse than strip her naked.
I took the knife from my boot and held it under her chin, the blade glistening under her throat. She cried out, desperation and pure fear marring her features as she stared up at me.
“Please don’t,” she said, and I ran the blade over her skin.
“Begging already,” I muttered. “What a weak little girl.”
I made a show of cutting through her dress, and she whimpered as I did it, the sound sending tingles dancing through my balls. I stripped the dress of her with angry, needy motions, leaving her in nothing but her lingerie.
The second I saw her like that, the knife clattered from between my fingers, and I took a deep breath and a step back as I stared at her exposed body.
“Angelo,” I whispered.
She did look like an angel. Her body was so fucking small, so frail, childish but grown-up at the same time. Not every curve on her was filled out yet, the swell of her breasts small but prominent, her hipbones sticking out like reminders of her innocence, her youth.
“Please don’t touch me,” she begged, her voice heavy with the drugs I’d had Federico slip in her drink. “Don’t touch me, please, don’t hurt me…”
A part of me screamed at me not to do it. To stop now; to let Alessia go before it was too fucking late and I was in way too deep. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Couldn’t step away. I just kept staring at her bared innocence, laid out for me to use and abuse.
“You don’t want me to?” I asked roughly, dropping down to my knees in front of her. I leaned over her, and my golden rosary slipped from my collar, dangling above her.
Her eyes fixed on the cross, and I could tell she had no clue who I was. Too bad for her—she was about to find out the hard way.
“Are you going to fight me?” I asked her, my tone gentler. “I like it when you fight back. Makes things more exciting.”
“What do you want from me?” she howled.
I leaned closer, my cross touching the spot where her chest caved in between her tits.
“I want your sins,” I breathed against her mouth, and her plump lips parted in expectation of a kiss. “I want you to fucking confess.”
“C-confess,” she whispered. “But I… I’m not a sinner, Father.”
“You are,” I growled. “You’re the biggest sinner of all, and I’m going to break you to get the truth out.”
She whimpered, and I tried not to stare at the way her chest rose and fell. It was addicting though, the surface hiding her heart right beneath. I could slide right through it and end things then and there, make sure she never sinned again. I wanted to hear it from her lips. Everything she had done, every wrong decision, every filthy mistake. Oh, I’d make my caged bird sing. I’d make her scream her sins at the top of her voice to satisfy me.
“You don’t even know me,” she said.
“Don’t I?” I asked her with a grin.
I took my phone from my pocket, opened the gallery and flicked through the photos. Her, at home, at school before she finished, her two years ago at sweet sixteen.
Her eyes widened. “You’ve… You’ve been planning this,” she whispered, and I didn’t grace her with an answer.
Instead, I straightened up and walked towards the door.
“Wait,” she cried out desperately, and I looked at her over my shoulder. “Wait, please, I’ll make it worth your time…”
I turned back around and she sat up, her fingers digging into the mattress for support.
“Please,” she begged, slowly, so fucking slowly parting her legs. “Please, you can have anything you want. Just let me go.”
“Anything I want?” I snarled at her.
I approached her in three long steps, and she recoiled from my touch when I wrapped my fingers around her chin and jolted her closer.
“You think,” I started in a low, menacing voice. “I wouldn’t have fucking taken you already? You think I want a little whore like you? I’m a man of God, sinner, and I’m not going to fall for the snake’s charms. You think you can seduce me?” I let go of her, and she gasped as she flew back on the mattress. “You better think the fuck again, puttana.”
She started sobbing. She was weak. A fucking nonbeliever. A woman who hadn’t found faith as I had, who hadn’t bathed in the glorious forgiveness my God gave me. She was nothing but an obstacle that I needed to break down to get to the fucking sweet molten reward in the center.
“The next time you spread your legs for me,” I growled at her. “You’d better be fucking dripping.”
“I…” she started, gulping down air, her legs clenched tightly together. “You’re a priest.”
“And your point?” I barked, growing impatient.
“You can’t just… fuck me!” she said, outraged. “You’re a man of God, like you said… Would God want this? Would he want you to keep me a prisoner here, against my will?”
“Don’t speak of him,” I snarled. “You don’t understand the Lord’s ways. You don’t understand anything yet, sinner. But I’ll make you see sense. I’ll work you so. Fucking. Hard. I bet you can’t wait for it, can you?”
She swallowed thickly, her eyes roaming my body. I’d pulled up my shirtsleeves, tucked them up, so they revealed my thick biceps. She wanted this. She wanted me already, and I hadn’t even gotten to work on the little bitch yet.
She looked away guiltily.
“Tell me your name,” I told her on a whim, my hand lingering by my side.
“Alessia,” she whispered. “Alessia Moretti.”
I slapped her.
I slapped her so hard her body fell back, hitting the mattress hard.
“You only respond to sinner from now on,” I told her. “And you’d do well to remember that.”
She cried softly as I walked away, almost reaching the door.
“What’s your name?” I called out in a sing-song voice, and she only sobbed in reply.
It made me angry. Very fucking angry. I didn’t like it one bit.
“That’s cost you your dinner,” I told her, slamming the door behind me and hearing the lock click into place.
And then, like the sick fuck I was, I slid down the door until my ass hit the floor, and listened to the sound of her sobs, one hand busy working the cross around my neck, the other one jerking my cock until it sputtered cum all over my fingers.
Join Isabella’s