{GIOVANNI'S POV}**I move. Silent. The door clicks shut behind me.In the mirror, I watch her freeze.Her shoulders tense first. Then her grip on the sink tightens, like she’s bracing for a hit.Slowly, so fucking slowly, she lifts her head. Our eyes meet in the mirror. Her pupils go wide, her throat tightens. What does she fucking know? What is she afraid of? Me? And yet, she doesn’t move.I step closer, watching the shift in her body. It's small movements, but still there. The way her breathing changes, the way her lips part like she wants to say something but the words won’t come.She still doesn't back away. So I move closer still.Her breath catches. She still doesn’t speak.She’s holding herself together, but I can see the tension in her arms, the weight of a thousand unspoken things pressing down on her. And I wonder, just for a second, how far she’s willing to push before I fucking break her to total obedience surrender to me.“Well, well, well,” I say. “I never expected to
{INGRID'S POV}**I really am done with it. I am done with caring. Done with feeling. Done with living like some goddamn pushover. Maybe that punishment will really help in liberating me from this crappy stubbornness of mine and make me a better person that everyone will be satisfied with. Right?I mean, it isn't my fault I grew up to be like this, now is it?To the outside world I am a kid who should listen and be good, but my inside world is a pit of pain and memories of my lonely past. A pit of pain I’ve been breathing through in agonizing little gasps since I was a little girl trying to be good for people around to spear me some food, alms and some money. But now, I feel so fucked up, and used, and twisted with all these looks and words Mr. Giovanni especially throws at me. I've been hurt and is still being hurt by so much of the life I'm still holding dear.Yeah, I am done.And what is with all these? All these family shit, and more secrets. More secrets. The underworld, alcoho
{INGRID'S POV}**I feel him nudge me from behind so I move away from the space close to the door. He steps forward and keys into the lock, opening the door and stepping in ahead of me. I enter. I don't even attempt to shut the door behind me after I enter, only fold my arms like a spoilt kid who is being grounded.He finds the light switch as soon as I'm in after him. He peeks out the door, his eyes checking out the neat little hallway before shutting the door. This is definitely a hotel room. No, more like a condo. But it's... unusual. There's a handmade tapestry of a dolphin breaching beside a boat hangs above the bed, and a photo of pirate colleagues on the deck sits on the kitchen counter. It isn't exactly the kind of decor I'd expect to find in a… sort of hotel condo room. But then again, life is full of surprises, and sometimes the most unexpected places can become the most memorable. So, the lady always in a yellow scarf who fed me on the street for a month before she die
{INGRID'S POV}**“Maybe it’s because nobody will ever love me because of my past. Nobody will ever really touch me, no, not after someone else did. Nobody will ever let me know what it’s like to have a man fall in love with me for all time when my heart beats for someone else who doesn't even care. They wouldn’t, now would they? There's nothing good or lovely about me or my life.”His eyes widen on mine, and I see more than those emotions. Worse than hate or disgust. It's Pity. I see damn pity. It's directed towards me. And I hate that. “You need to get some fucking therapy and work on your self and mind,” he says, his hands still gripping tight on my wrists.“....” God I'm speechless. Really? Therapy?! What does he think of me? A lunatic? I have not lost my mind!He stares at my thighs, and I feel ashamed of them, so fierce in my pain. I have a low waistband on, which I made by myself because I feel bold wearing them, but he barely even notices. His attention is so fixed on my fla
{GIOVANNI’S POV}**I shut the door behind me seeing to it that the slam echoes in both my ears and hers. My hands flex at my sides, my fingers tingling from where they had just been wrapped around her throat.She wanted me to hurt her. She fucking wanted me to hurt her. Punishment, hard sex... anything that would hurt her she wanted it.And for a second…. for one fucked up second, I almost did. I saw it in her eyes, that plea for something more than just words, something deeper, something that would cut through whatever storm was brewing inside her. And I could have given it to her.But I didn’t.I don't break little girls. Or maybe I do, but I don't want to break her. Also, I don’t indulge their self destruction. Not like that. Okay, maybe I do too but if and only if I should find interest in a little girl, which has never happened aside from Ingrid La Rosa. My jaw tightens, and I push the thought away. I move down the dimly lighted hallway. The weight in my chest is a familiar
{INGRID'S POV}**The air inside the guest house in the clubhouse feels as stale as a musty basement, it's like it’s pressing in hard on me. The walls are too close. The furniture, too still.I’m curled into a ball, crying myself into nothingness in the same room. I felt bad, but everything feels different now. And it's because of him. Because of his words to me.‘I’m giving you five minutes,’ is all he says in the end. That was all he said before leaving me here, alone with the weight of it.Five minutes for what? To breathe? To collect myself? Or to decide what to do next? That time was never enough and couldn't be.I press my fingers against my temples. My mind is a mess. My pulse is erratic. I need to move. I need to get out of here.I grab a dress from the cupboard. It's good there's one there, even if it's bigger and longer. And so out of shape.I leave the room quietly and the place entirely.The moment my feet hit the ground outside, the cold air rushes against my skin, clear
{INGRID'S POV}**This is exactly how it turns out to be. Cry myself into a mess and get comfort from him, all in his arms, despite the fact that it's all in broad daylight in an open room he said is mine.The heat of his palm rests at the back of my head, his fingers threading into my hair as my face presses against his chest. His breathing is slow, deep, steady; like he’s forcing himself to stay still, to not react. But I feel it. The tightness in his muscles, and the way his fingers twitch slightly against my scalp.It should be humiliating. Letting myself fall apart like this, soaking his shirt with my tears while my body trembles against him. But I can’t stop.I should pull away. I don’t.Instead, I stay there, breathing him in, feeling the warmth of his body like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded. His fingers tighten in my hair for just a second before he exhales, slowly and heavily.“You need to stop crying, bambina.” His voice is quieter now, but a little rough around t
{INGRID'S POV}**“It was wrong of me to treat you like that. I like that you’re the horny girl I fucked months ago. Just… you were my first ever little girl that I fucked. Ever. It’s difficult for me to accept as well that I'm attracted still to that little girl. I didn't want to run away then too. I just had in mind that it was a one time thing.” He strokes my hair back and presses soft kisses to the back of my neck. “You forgive me, don’t you? You want your uncle Giovanni to kiss you and make it better, don't you, bambina?” He runs his tongue up the column of my throat.I'm consumed. We both are, and by passion. But…“I think….” I begin, trying to bring up the matter of my father. I and Cara's father. Because, what if after whatever we do now he acts all cold and snobbish again? Then I wouldn't get any answers and end up being used again. “Wait. Don't.”“You still don't believe me or trust me. Right? This is my fucking manor, bambina, I can't run away from my own house.” He squee
{INGRID'S POV}**Done sniffing, he throws my underwear aside and his fingers find my slit amidst the hairs. He slides in possessively over my clit and my pussy and back up again. His fingers are coated in my slipperiness.“After I took your virginity, no one has gone in there right?” He asks.I nod.“Fuck. I’ll be careful with finger fucking you then.” He brushes his lips over mine and reaches down to drag two fingers up my pussy and rub slow, firm circles on my clit. Heat blooms in my cheeks, and my head tips back with a cry. Mr. Giovanni makes a deep, decadent sound in his chest. His groaning makes me want to be his niece for real. So he can spoil me, adore me, love me, and unholistically fuck me. At the time I think I’m going to come from the way he’s massaging my clit, he slides his fingers down and pushes them inside me. Not very far, but a little deeper each time, making me burn around him.I keep my mouth shut tightly together. I'm scared and so much embarrassed that someo
{GIOVANNI'S POV}**I make sure the room is dimly lit so my little girl can be comfortable. The heavy curtains are drawn against the early evening sun. I sit across from my bambi, a bowl of fruit in my hand. My fingers peel a piece of orange with slow precision. She watches me with her expression unreadable, and I see the tension in her shoulders; the way her fingers tighten around the fabric of her big shirt."Eat," I say, holding out a slice. "I want you to be healthy for me. Soon, I will begin hand-working those tiny tits, I want them bigger."She rolls her eyes but takes the fruit from my fingers. Her lips brush against the tips in a way that is entirely too deliberate. I ignore it. For now I always ignore her petty advances.Silence stretches between us. I pick up another piece, twirl it between my fingers before offering it to her. She leans forward, her gaze locked onto mine. The game she plays is subtle, but I’ve always been good at seeing through people. Always."You want
Masuk
