Page 8 of Seen By Larabe

“Thank you, angel. But you wouldn’t be saying that if you knew what was going through my mind right now.” He proves his words with a squeeze on the head of his cock that I didn’t notice was out until; now. It looks angry and swollen. His grip is hard and punishing, and the white cream dripping from the slit, is making my clit throb. “Do it, Satine. Touch yourself. Show me what a good girl you are.” Holy shit. His words send a spark of some part of me that loves to be told what to do. I have often thought I was like this, especially after reading books our maid used to sneak me, but never had a chance to test it out. Something naughty inside of me lights up, and I widen my stance and turn toward him fully. “I want those eyes open, Piccola. I want to see them when you bring yourself to the clouds.”

Feeling braver than I really am and only because it is him, I continue using my finger to split apart the lips and graze my clit. I blow out air and rub more. “Oh,” I say, the air in my lungs coming in wheezes of pleasure.

“Damn! Look at you. You look glorious taking what you want.” His words embolden me, and I continue my exploration. I can feel the wetness pooling in my center. Instinctively, I slide my finger past the bundle of nerves and into my pussy, the stickiness covering my fingers. “Damn, Piccola. You know how to bring a man to his knees. No wonder they wanted you enough to steal you. You’re a treasure.”

“Larabee,” I call his name and the pressure builds. Every time he speaks my body reacts with zings of need and pinpricks of pleasure. My fingers go back to my clit, vigorously moving in flashes of circles. My body begins to shake, and the air leaves me quicker. “Why can’t I?” I cry out. I am almost there but I am scared to fall. “Help,” I say before I feel his hands touch me. I didn't realize I had closed my eyes. His fingers cover mine. In and out. Over and over he pushes my hand inside of me and pulls it out, sliding the sticky honey over my clit. On more than one occasion I can feel his own finger, slip through mine and touch me and that brings me closer.

Suddenly, his mouth is on mine. His clothes are gone, and he is in the shower with me. His tongue slides across my bottom lip, but I am spinning so close to the edge. “Kiss me back, baby. I want to feel that shy tongue in my mouth.” Doing as he said, my mouth opens slightly and my tongue peeks out, slowly following his lead. “There’s my girl.” Our tongues take a moment to get acquainted and say hello before he takes over and slides his fully into my mouth. “I knew you would taste sweet, Piccola. I knew you would taste forbidden and tantalizing.

His fingers have not stopped moving with mine. I am quickly falling, zooming toward a release I can only get to with him. “I think. I can’t… It’s…”

“I got you, baby. Let go. I will always catch you.” Those are the words I need to allow myself to fall, literally. I open my mouth and a blinding scream falls from them. My body feels like it is convulsing. It scares me and I begin reaching for him until everything goes black. The last thing I hear is a whisper. “Never letting you go.” I hope he never does.

“Mmm...” Stretching my arms I open my eyes and smile. My body feels light, languid and oddly sensitive. I know instantly he is not in the bed with me or in the house. Don’t ask me how I Know, but from the moment he brought me here, I have felt this overwhelming connection to him. Sure it could be hero syndrome. I know. But it is something else. Something tangible, right there at the surface, pulling us closer but also threatening to snap if tugged too hard. Looking outside I see the sun is setting and realize I slept for longer than I expected.

Curious and missing him, I get up and use the bathroom since my bladder feels like it is going to explode. Once I have washed my hands and brushed my teeth, I look at myself in the mirror and smile when I see my eyes are not as sunken in as they were. I can see tiny pieces of who I was trying to reach the surface and it makes me feel better. I can see pieces of myself coming back every day, but I also see something else possibly forming, a new me. A me that never existed before any of this.

I trade out my flowy dress for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I don’t bother with shoes since I am inside. Turning, I open the bedroom door and walk out. “Larabee. Are you here?” The house is silent but for my own breathing. I check his office and the backyard but find nothing. The panic begins and I lean against the counter. My throat begins to swell, and I think I start to collapse as the wail of despair fills through the air. Am I alone again? Why is everyone always leaving me?

My mind is spinning going over the last time I saw him. “Oh no.” My hand at my throat and once again I am calling upon the darkness when salvation comes again.

“Baby, talk to me. What the fuck happened?” When his voice permeates my mind I look at him and all of the darkness begins to recede. I launch myself into his arms and cry on his shoulder. “Piccola, you're scaring the shit out of me. Talk to me, baby.” He sits in a chair with me on his lap and I can’t bring myself to talk. Right now, I just need to be in his arms.

Nine

Larabee

Iwas outside on the phone with Quanico discussing the situation with his cousin. Apparently Giulia called him and told him to handle it the rest of the way since she found out what I said was true. When I saw his name on the phone, I knew what it was.

Quan called to let me know I was to bring her to him in Miami immediately. Of course that conversation did not sit well with me, so I decided to shoot my shot. Either he was going to go for it, or I would be killed upon arrival. Either way I can’t not fight for her.

“I was waiting for one of you to call me back so we could hash this out before I brought her back.”

“What is there to hash out?” His voice is calm, but I don’t let that fool me. He and Giulia are one in the same even though there is no blood relation. They are both cool and calm even with a gun or sword in their hand.

“I am taking her home with me. That is not something I am willing to negotiate on, but, I would also like it sanctioned seeing as how, I would like to stay alive.” I hear his pen tapping across the desk as he gives my words some thought.

“You are or you would like to?”

“I am.” Stay cool, LB. I try to remind myself because right now it sounds like he is about to deny my request.

“And what would be your reason for taking her to your home and not bringing my blood to mine?” I debate whether a thinly veiled lie that I don’t actually consider a lie would be best or just the full out truth.

“I want to protect her, care for her and love her. I have fallen for your cousin Quan, and I plan to make her my wife.” Well, I guess I went with the truth.

“Have you fucked her?” I hear his teeth gnashing and my mind begins to go into fight mode.

“I have not, yet.”

“Good. That bought you a day or so. Here is what we are going to do. You are going to bring her to me so I can lay eyes on her, meet her since I haven't seen her since she was a few months old and I will ask her, in private, if she wants to be with you. IF she says no, you will stand down and walk away. If she says yes, I will let her leave with you, but my condition is that you do not take her virtue until she is your wife. Do you agree to the terms?” Well shit. My dick is protesting the ‘not taking’ since all I have been thinking about since the bathroom is breeding her. I am such a piece of shit. But, if I want this to be peaceful, I have no choice.

“Very well,” I tell him, rubbing my temple.

“Now when should I expect you?” I am not ready to give up our own little paradise.

“The day after tomorrow.”

“See you then.”

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