ILLICIT DESIRES | 18 +

29: A Surprise

⚠️WARNING⚠️: IT INCLUDES DADDY KINK 

REMINDER: ALL CHARACTERS ARE OFF AGE AND THE CONSENT BETWEEN THEM IS THERE. I DID NOT TRESPASS ANY CODE OF CONDUCT FROM WATTPAD

SMUT STARTS WITH THE SECOND CHARACTER'S POV; YOU CAN SKIP IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE.

THIS IS JUST A PART OF THE STORY AS ONE IS KINKY AND THE OTHER EXPLORATIVE.

RITA

He domesticates Me.

This ambience of his abode is so foreign, yet I adapt perfectly. Somehow, I feel more at home with him than I ever did in Mexico. I feel calm. Usually, my plants soothe me, but when I give in to his touch, I feel the same peace.

I don't feel like a freak — cast out by judging eyes for my eccentric ways. He speaks to me. He protects me. He feeds me. He pleasures me.

We are very compatible. We sin with ease. We kill with precision. We fight, mock, taunt, and disrespect — everything we do, we do well. This we is rare, almost beyond someone's scope.

And yet, I am scared. I fear falling victim to my own game of seduction. 

I kissed. I killed. 

He is the only bastard I've allowed to kiss me without plotting his demise from my lips.

Though I am his to kill, his rotten hands only prefer to mark me. I am literally all indigo. His fingers and voracious mouth imprint on my thighs and wrists, biting and suckling where flesh is soft and plump. 

And I don't mind. 

Because I like him.

He dines with me as if enjoying my presence. 

He makes me happy — so easily. 

I leech off him without obligation. And in gratitude, I roll him cigarettes. He smokes them after ravishing me.

He isn't home. 

He left two rules: don't leave the apartment unless it's on fire, and don't open the door to strangers.

But today, I must. I decide to call his friend, the pizza guy he always orders from. I want more than pizza — I want to plan a surprise for him.

I am not fond of phones; I hate the vile rays. Yet, I dial the number from the newspaper on the coffee table, anticipation thrumming in my chest.

"Thank you for calling Quick Pizza. How can I help you today?"

"Hello," I cough, clearing my throat. 

"I'm calling on behalf of Roman Esposito. He always orders from here."

"Mr. Esposito, the usual?" the pizza boy asks.

I nod, rolling my eyes at my own unseen gesture.

"Could I speak to... um... the delivery guy who usually brings the pizza?" I ask timidly, biting my lip as I wait.

"Listen, lady, this isn't a call center. Are you ordering a pizza or not?" he asks, clearly annoyed.

"I'll order twenty boxes if I get to talk to him," I negotiate, hoping my offer works.

"All right... Matthias! A customer wants twenty boxes — and your... voice!" His hollering makes me scrunch my nose. "Are you doing phone sex or actually fucking her? She sounds desperate..."

"No... none of them," I hum. 

"Then why do you sound so desperate?" I hear him chuckle.

"Fuck off! Who is it?" The delivery guy's voice is familiar — the one who once bickered with me over a pizza, as I offered him my plant as payment.