Her hands both go down between her legs. She spreads herself open with one hand while fingering her cunt. I squeeze my dick and jack my hand up and down my length. Fuck, it won’t take much before I come.
I want to watch her come first, though. So I keep my hand still, but tight around my dick. Madison continues fingering herself, changing position slightly at Damiano’s request.
“When you come, bella, look at that window. Look at where Seth is watching you. I’d bet everything I own he’s jerking his own dick while he watches.”
Safe bet. How anyone could avoid touching themselves while watching little Madison Greene get herself off, is beyond me.
Madison’s hand moves faster between her legs. She’s rubbing her clit in earnest now. Her eyes are on my window. “Yes…yes…”
“That’s right,” Damiano says, his voice dark. “Make yourself come for us.”
How much of me can she see? I’m mostly in the dark, but she can probably see my silhouette. She can probably see the movement of my arm as I resume jacking myself off.
“Are you going to come, bella?” Damiano asks. “Because I’m about to. Come with me. Eyes on Seth while you do.”
She cries out with her orgasm. I stroke myself harder and faster, feel the explosion of pleasure from the base of my spine radiating outward. I catch my come with my other hand, groaning out loud.
Only when I’m done do I realize the window was open, and Madison heard me. Like I fucking care. Let her see, let her hear.
And let us never say a word about it. Ever.
DAMIANO
I spend several minutes talking with Madison after she comes. My own release is splashed over my stomach, but I don’t move from the bed. “You were wonderful, bella,” I say. “So fucking beautiful. Are you warm now?”
She’s bundled up in a towel, walking through her bedroom. “Yeah. I got pretty cold out there by the end.”
“I’m sorry about that. You did great, though. Watching you come is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Her cheeks pinken with pleasure. “I certainly enjoyed it, too.”
My phone chimes with a text in Italian. Please, Damiano. I need you.
Sighing, I give Madison a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry, bella. I have to go. More of that emergency I need to handle. Can I call you in the morning before you leave Mirarosa?”
“Sure.” She gives me a tentative smile of her own. “And thank you for this trip. I know it didn’t work out like you planned, but I’m still having a good time.”
We say our goodbyes and I grab a tissue to wipe up as much as possible. I put myself to rights, grabbing a clean t-shirt, before leaving my flat and taking the elevator down to the eleventh floor. I knock on the door to Apartment 114. It opens immediately to reveal a tiny woman with dark hair and an anxious expression on her pretty face.
“Damiano, I’m so scared.” Alessia’s golden-brown eyes are wide with fright. “He’s texting me.”
“I showed you how to mute his messages, Alessia.”
“But he texts and I see them just the same.”
I’m exhausted. I’ve given her a place to stay. Food. Money. Advice. “If you cannot do the very simple thing of not looking at your phone, I do not know what to tell you.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “I’m sorry, I know I am doing wrong. I just don’t know what else to do. I’m trapped here with nowhere to go, no one to talk to except for you.”
“Reach out to your family. Your brother. Your father.”
“They take his side! They take his side every time.”
I shrug. I want to tell her that this is her own fault, but I cannot blame the victim. Not after what we have both been through. There is too much at play, and she isn’t entirely safe yet.
Tears flow down her cheeks. She sobs quietly, ineffectively dabbing at her face. I’m not entirely unmoved, but Alessia’s tears are, and have always been, a manipulation tactic. It took me too many years to figure this out, but now that I know, I have a hard time sympathizing with her when she cries.
“What do you want from me?” I finally ask.
