Looking back down at me, his eyes were dark, completely dilated, full of lust. I dig my pink nails into his thighs to let him know this isn’t over yet as I tighten my lips around the base of his shaft. Finally gaining his approval, both his hand clenched my hair again as I let him fuck my mouth numb. He was relentless in his thrusts, and I relished every moment as my eyes watered.
“I’m going to cum.”
Before he could finish the words, I felt his hot semen burst out of him, shooting down my throat with excess spilling out of my mouth. Tears rolled down my cheek as I choked, but I refused for him to pull out until every drop of him went into my mouth. Emilio propped his arms forwardonto the mirror on the wall for support, leaving a print. After swallowing every drop, I allow him to pull out. He watched as I licked the access cum that dribbled down my face until I got every last bit of it. His cock twitched in my face from excitement.
Grabbing my chin with his hand, “If you spill a word of this to anyone, I’ll sow that pretty mouth of yours up.”
Chapter 12
Waking up to thunder and lightning, I reach my sofa, wrapped in a comfy plush blanket. There was something beautiful in watching the city drowning in the rain. Relaxing to the sound of the raindrops outside, images of last night invade my mind. I would have thought it was just a dream. How could that have possibly happened? As I closed my eyes, my body tensed from the memory and was aching for more. A loud hit of thunder roared through the sky, causing me to open my eyes and return to my sofa.
Eventually, I made my way to the kitchen for some coffee, and I couldn’t help but think how I would be able to look at Emilio the same way again. The thought of him sent waves of electricity through my body, so what would happen if I saw him in person? Would I be able to trust myself around him? His threat for me to keep my mouth shut was unwarranted. There was no chance I’d ever tell anyone—not even Natasha and Tiffany. The issue wasn’t spilling what happened; it was that I wanted to do it again. I was in such a daze by what transpired between Emilio and I that I didn’t even fuss about the arranged marriage when Luca dropped me home last night.
Emilio has been an asset to this family, not just to Luca. He made sure Rita’s husband successfully took over the West side of Chicago as Captain, rushed Isabella to the hospital when she went into labor when she was home alone, unable to reach anyone else, he was there to help carry my father’s casket and helped my mother plan the funeral. He was there forme, too. Emilio was someone we counted on during our tough times. For me, he was always there, getting me out of trouble.
“What have you gotten yourself into, Bethany?”
Emilio came as soon as I called. There was no one else I could think of to help with this situation better than he could, aside from my brother, but I was too scared to call Luca. Not wanting anyone to know, I swore to Emilio that I would do anything if this could stay between us.
“I didn’t mean it,” I was panicking. “I was trying to go back home.”
“What if you got pulled over? You aren’t even 21, and you’re drunk.”
Emilio puffed on a cigarette as he stood, looking at the dent in my car covered in blood. The smoke was a bright white against the night sky.
“He came out of nowhere.” I sat on the side of the road feeling sick.
“Take a fucking cab next time.”
Turning onto my hands and knees, I began to throw up violently. Emilio stepped away and made a phone call. When he walked back, he helped me to my feet.
“Don’t vomit in my car.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I’m taking you home while I clean up this mess.”
“Okay.”
“And don’t pull some shit like this again.”
“You won’t tell Luca, right?”
“No. Just don’t let it happen again.”
I swore that night I wouldn’t drink and drive again. We left my damaged car and the dead body in the street. Unsure how this would all go under the radar, I knew it would be done when Emilio said he would handle something.
After a week of laying low, I walk into the kitchen with my mother, cooking a big dinner.
“Are we having company?” I asked.
“Your brother and Antonio are coming for dinner,” she smiled. I was convinced that she loved Luca the most of all her children.
We all sat at the table when dinnertime arrived, eating and chatting.
“The mayor’s son has gone missing. Have you seen the news, Luca?” my mother asked.
“I have. It’s a shame.”
