Page 83 of Heartless Heathens
“Please, Felix. I need more. I need…” She didn’t know how to ask for it but I knew what she was asking for. I knew where she wanted to go with it. “I need you.”
“You have me, pretty girl.” I feigned ignorance, inserting another finger inside her and drawing a throaty moan from her.
She came around my fingers and her thighs clenched together and trembled. I kissed her, swallowing her screams until I pulled my fingers out from inside her. She propped herself back up again, her cheeks flushed with heat and embarrassment.
I smirked, popping both my fingers into my mouth and licking her blood off my skin. Her eyes widened again, this time in horror and I laughed. I looked down between her legs to see the mess we’d made and swiped my hands over her bloody pussy and then drew an inverted cross over the marble with it. She wrapped her lips over her teeth and bit down, like it would diffuse her shame.
“Come on,” I said, extending my hand out to her as she hopped off the grave and pulled her underwear and leggings up before scooping up her holster and knife from the gravestone.
“I don’t have a tampon anymore,” she hissed uncomfortably and I laughed.
I scooped her up and tossed her over my shoulder, her ass greeting the sunshine for the remainder of the walk. I figured if I defied gravity for her she wouldn’t have to worry about leaving a trail of blood. Not that I was worried about it.
It was a privilege to wear her blood on me like a badge of honor.
Icouldn’tgetoutof my own head. Every second of the day that I spent alone, I spent torturing myself, trying to find a reason for why my life had been this way. It didn’t hurt so bad when I was ignorant to it, when I didn’t know any better. But now that I had a taste of freedom, of what life was really like, all I could think about was why it happened this way for me. I loomed outside his bedroom door like a nervous shadow, waiting for an invite.
“What do you want, Romina?” he asked dryly as I walked inside.
“I need to talk to Frollo,Carmine.” I used the name I’d found written on most of his important documents.
“What did you fucking call me?” He hissed out, ignoring the first portion of my request while he closed in on me and forced me to back into the wall.
Sonny had this way about him and I always found myself cornered like an animal, always trapped with nowhere to go but to gnaw through the beast standing in my way. There was something about him that made me want to raise my flags and go to battle, something inside me itched to fight when he came for me.
“That’s your real name, isn’t it?” I breathed out anxiously, his face was touching mine but his expression was too angry for me to feel anything but terrified, letting me know I might have crossed a line.
And not in a good way this time.
“Which one of those fucking assholes told you my name?” His forearm pressed against my throat, pushing me against the wall and cutting off my oxygen.
“Neither of them. I looked through your things and saw it.”
He raked his fingers through his hair like he was beyond his limit and his jaw ticked from the obvious rage that was running through his body.
“You’re not supposed to do that kind of shit.” He shook his head and I deflated, hiding my gaze from him once I noticed the gravity of his disappointment.
“I-I’m sorry,” I said in a quiet voice and he exhaled heavily, removing his forearm from my neck.
“You didn’t fucking know.” He brushed his hair out of his eyes but his nostrils were still flared from his anger.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered again.
“Just don’t call me that, do you hear me?” He wrapped his fingers around my throat, still keeping me pinned to the wall and waiting for my understanding.
“Yes.Sir,”I wheezed out with the same tone I took with Father Frollo when he refused to see anything but his way.
Sonny was nothing like Frollo, but in moments like this, where he refused to tell me anything real and it was expected of me to blindly comply, I couldn’t help but feel the bitter sting of their similarities, even if they were small. He let out a quiet laugh under his breath before removing his arm from my neck.
“Look at that, I think I might like that nickname.” He grabbed my hand and wrapped it over his erection, thick and engorged, under the fabric of his pants.
He let me go and turned on his heels, walking away from me.
“Will you tell me about the binding?” I asked again, hoping he’d give me something if I bothered him enough.
“No,” he said, narrowing his eyes my way.
“Why not?”
