Paper Trails 2 | Draft

38.

Surprise! Kind of short though.
Niccolo's POV {somebody asked :)}

"She looked my demons in the eye and smiled. She fell for the very thing I thought she'd fear."

*****

"Tell me more," I muttered before my tongue went back to massaging her folds. I heard her moan, felt her fingers in my hair and her legs lock around my head.

"Work for it," she panted, tightening her grip. My eyes met hers. She winked, and her other finger went to toy with her nipples.

Keeping one hand on her hip, I slowly brought my other up, trailing her skin. Higher and higher my hand went until it tightened around her throat, squeezing. I heard her choke out a gasp, and her hands left my head. I pushed myself forward until I was hovering over her, my eyes flickering between her eyes and her lips.

"Have you forgotten our deal?"

She shook her head.

"Then speak."

"I wanna cum," she whispered. "Finish, and I'll tell you—"

My grip tightened, cutting her off. Her eyes widened and her hand went to my wrist, attempting to pull me hand her throat. "The only reason why you're alive, is—"

I stopped, my cheek stinging. My hand fell away from her to feel my face, and my eyes narrowed when I felt blood. The bitch scratched me.

"What are you going to do?" She snapped, shoving me off her. She stands up, grabs her silk robe, and pulls it on, loosely tying the front. "Kill me? Then you'll never get what you want and this will all have been a waste for you. Stop threatening me, Niccolò, and start fucking me, or so help me God, I will tell her myself—"

"You threaten me?" I murmured, moving towards her, my patience dissipating. "You're getting bold."

"I'm getting smart. You don't scare me any—"

I grab her by her chin and shove her back hard. She trips over her feet and falls, slamming into the glass coffee table. It shatters beneath her and she cries out in pain.

"I'm not in the mood. Please don't test me."

I watch blankly at tears fall down her face and she pushes herself up into a sitting position, shards of glass digging into her skin and drawing blood. Her hands are shaking as she slowly stands, gasping as she begins to pull little bits of glass out her arm.

"You don't deserve her," she whimpered. "You don't deserve anyone."

"Then we do have something in common," I bit out.

But I knew she was right. I don't deserve anyone.

Least of all Neila.

"Talk!" I bark, making her jump.

Her eyes shoot to mine, and I could see the tears in them. And the hatred and the anger and the hurt—I could see all of it.

"You just toy with me. Use me. You don't care about me. And I knew. I fucking knew, but I let myself think that—" she stops and shakes her head. "I can't wait to see you in Hell, Niccolò. I want to be right next to you when you burn."