Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Vittoria licks her lips, and I know the moment he pushes a finger into her, fucking her with the single digit, then adds a second. She grits her teeth, her breathing tight. And I know from her face when he pulls his fingers out and is ready to take her because her eyes grow huge.
“This may hurt a little,” he says. She glances at him, panicked. He leans over her. “But don’t worry, Dandelion. I’ll make sure you come too. It’ll make you hate yourself that much more because your pussy is fucking dripping, and I’m just getting started.”
I lean forward a little, intent on her. Bastian wraps one hand around her front to take her clit between his fingers.
“Too much,” she cries out, squeezing her eyes shut as he tries to enter her.
“Relax, Dandelion,” he tells her. “Take it. You asked for it, remember? You’ll take my cock in your ass. Take my come in your ass.”
Her breath is a hiss, her hands fisting as he settles inside her.
“Fuck. She’s tight.”
“I’m sure,” I say.
I pump my cock in my fist and watch as Bastian fucks her. He doesn’t go easy on her, and she takes it. Her whimpers turn to moans, her eyes glazing over as pain turns to pleasure, her breathing picks up, and finally, that tensing of muscle as she comes. It’s the most beautiful sight, her face like this. Her moans the most beautiful sound. And when Bastian stills inside her, his eyes closing as he empties inside her, I get to my feet and draw her up a little, just enough so she can take me in her mouth. So she will have a piece of us both inside her.
30
Bastian
It’s late. I swim in the light of the moon hours after Vittoria and my brother go to bed. Hours after I should have followed them. I can’t sleep, though, not after what happened tonight.
What she said is true. I hate her—or want to hate her—because her father loved her. Because she loved that monster. And I also see her. It’s what I’ve accused my brother of, but I’m just as guilty. I see her. And she’s not what I expected. Not the villain I’d made her out to be for all those years as I planned her punishment.
Movement catches my eye when I come up for air, so I stop and turn toward it. There, standing a few feet from the pool, is the last person I’d expect to see. The little girl.
She’s wearing a pink nightie with a princess on the front of it, carrying her weird pig. Her hair is a tangled mess around her tiny face as she rubs her tired eyes.
“What are you doing out here?” I ask, climbing out of the pool and drying myself with my towel before wrapping it around my hips and pulling a T-shirt on.
She doesn’t answer. Just stares up at me.
“Why aren’t you in bed?”
Again, no answer. I wonder how they communicate if she’s got this issue.
“How did you get out here?”
She turns and points at the open door. Duh.
“Where’s Vittoria or your nanny?” I look into the house but see no one.
She points upstairs.
Okay. So she came down here by herself? It’s pitch black in the house. Wasn’t she scared? She’s got her ratty shoes on. They’re on the wrong feet and unlaced. It makes me smile.
“Come on, I’ll take you back up to bed.”
She shakes her head.
“Do you want some water or something? Are you hungry?” What am I supposed to do with a five-year-old?
She points at the water glass which was actually filled with whiskey just a little while ago. I’m going to have the mother of hangovers come morning.
“All right,” I say with a sigh. Isn’t she supposed to be afraid of me? I walk toward her and I’m surprised when she holds up her arms to be picked up. I stop, confused, then bend to lift her and carry her into the house. “You know you’re not allowed to go near the swimming pool alone, right?” I ask her as I close the patio door. I don’t care, but I’m not a fucking monster, either. She’s a kid. Don’t want her drowning in our pool.
She tilts her head to the side and points at me.
“I don’t count,” I tell her.
She shrugs a shoulder, and I push the door open to the kitchen. I set her on the counter, take a water glass and fill it then hand it to her. She takes it with two hands, takes exactly one sip and holds the glass back out to me.
“That’s it? I thought you were thirsty.”
She pushes the glass at me, so I take it and set it aside. She watches me with eyes much older than that of a five-year-old. I think about what Vittoria said. How her father only looked at Emma with scorn. I guess seeing her only reminded him of what his wife had very clearly done. I’m surprised Vittoria doesn’t realize it, but I don’t think she does. I almost gave it away in the library earlier tonight. Amadeo would have stopped me if I hadn’t caught myself. But the science doesn’t lie. Two blue-eyed parents cannot have a brown-eyed child.