My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Ep. 6 Consequences Read Free Page A

myself to say the words. “It was
my brother.”
    Her eyes went wide, the
gasp from
the other side of the room telling me that Rita was also
shocked.
    My hand clenched around the
knife, my knuckles hurting from the pressure. “Which means stabbing
you would mean nothing to me. Nothing . If anything, it will make me feel better,
because at least I will have someone else’s blood on my hands.” I
sat back down on the chair. “So, sit on my fucking
cock!”
    Camila stepped closer, her chain jangling.
She turned around, showing me that peachy ass of hers.
    “ Take a hold of my cock, and if
you hurt it, I will color my hands with your blood,” I
said.
    She grabbed my cock, slowly
lowering herself onto it, pushing me inside of her inch by glorious
inch. I gasped, the woman tighter than I remembered. She came to a
stop on my lap, finally sitting on it like I had asked, her long
black hair tickling my chest. I brushed it over her shoulder, then
pushed her head forward, so I could see Rita. “Move up and down,” I
said, staring at Rita. She was watching me with wide eyes. Her face
was flushed, her mouth was open, and her brown hair was wild—the
woman beyond sexy.
    “ Faster,” I instructed Camila.
She picked
up speed, making me groan. Even though my ex’s grip on my cock was
exquisite, I still wished I was filling Rita instead.
    I smacked Camila’s ass.
“Faster.” She started panting, her groans breaking
t hrough, the
woman thirsty for my cock. She rode me hard, causing her big tits
to bounce. I reached around and grabbed one of them, tweaking her
nipple. Her pussy clenched in response, making me gasp.
    My eyes returned to Rita. Looking
embarrassed, she dropped her gaze. I let out a loud groan for her
benefit. She glanced back up. Her face was redder than her natural
hair color, the roots starting to become noticeable. She reminded
me so much of my murdered lover. I groaned again, imagining the
time Sophia had come to my bedroom seven years ago. She’d been
distressed over something, my beautiful amore looking so fragile. I’d sat her down on my
bed, asking what was wrong. She’d burst into tears, so I had pulled
her into my arms, giving her comfort. Although I had wanted to give
her more, to have her beneath me, naked and writhing in ecstasy as
I filled her. I don’t quite remember who had made the first move,
who kissed who, whose hands roamed over the other’s body. I
groaned, remembering how we had ripped each other’s clothes off
frantically, and how I had pushed her down, entering her with
nothing between us. She had been much tighter than Camila, so tight
that it had been painful, but I still wanted her wrapped around me,
squeezing the life out of my cock. I groaned, remembering how she
had cried out, telling me it hurt her too, but she still begged me
not to stop. I knew she was a virgin, Jagger had told me. He’d
asked me advice about how to have sex with her, the boy rather
clumsy with women back then. I was such a bastardo for stealing his love, but she was my
love too, and she had come to me , kissed me ,
wanted me as much as I had wanted her.
    “ Sophia, ti amerò per
sempre ,” I
said, telling my dead lover I would love her forever.
    The woman I was in stiffened, but it
wasn’t Camila’s reaction that got my attention, it was Rita’s gasp
and the way her hand went to her heart as though I had spoken the
words to her. But I hadn’t, because she wasn’t my
Sophia.
    She squeezed her eyes shut, appearing
upset. I had no idea why my words would elicit such a reaction,
because even though she lusted after me, she hated me even
more.
    I hit Camila’s back. “Get off me,” I
snapped, not wanting to finish inside of her.
    She rose to her feet and glared down at
me. Her face was just as flushed as Rita’s, but with anger instead
of desire. I pushed up and shoved her roughly to the side, making
her curse. She went for me, telling me I was a stronzo —an asshole. I shoved her harder,
sending her