Page 37 of Forgive Me, Father (Don #1)

THIRTY-ONE

THE LITTLE RUNAWAY

"The bath was perfect, just what I needed. I had my sweet, loving husband back, not the one who hid away in his dungeon. I still had to find a way to love that part of him too, to truly want to be with all of him.

His darkness drew out a part of me, a part that longed to satisfy whatever lingered within him. It called to something buried deep inside me, a darkness of my own that I didn’t yet understand.

I lay in his arms as he kept washing me.

“Did you use to do this with Sarah, taking care of her afterward?” I had to ask, even though I knew I probably wouldn’t like the answer.

His hand paused in mid-air, and he inhaled deeply.

“I won’t be mad. I promise.”

“You say that now.” His voice wavered with uncertainty.

“So, you took care of her afterward?” His non-answer was answer enough.

“It’s got nothing to do with feelings or the sex. It’s putting both of our demons back in their boxes, so we can carry on with our everyday lives.”

“Do you still speak to each other?”

“She tries.” A sigh left him. “She is not taking this easy.”

“Meaning?”

“I used to pay her every time, Camilla. That’s how she’s been able to live so lavishly. But I’m not doing any of that anymore.”

“So, she’s not happy with this arrangement?”

“To be honest, I don’t care. You’re my priority now, my responsibility. Not her.” He kissed the top of my head and continued washing me.

Silence lingered.

I really didn’t like this Sarah. It felt as if she needed him more than he needed her.

“Was there anything tonight you do not want me to use again?” he asked.

I wished I could tell him the pinwheel, but I knew it was crucial to what he needed.

He used it tonight, and we weren’t in his dungeon as long as we had been the last time. The cutter was the other one. I could still feel the cuts and the burn lingered sharply.

The biting was also extreme, but to be honest, I also loved the idea of wearing his marks.

I shook my head.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay,” he breathed.

After the bath, he made sure to tend to all my cuts, disinfecting them carefully. Some of the cuts needed adhesive stitches, others he just covered with plasters. The bite marks on my thigh were larger, and they hurt the most.

Yet, I couldn’t help but smile whenever my eyes drifted to one of the marks.

We went to bed, and he watched a movie with me on Netflix. I fell asleep in his arms, but when I woke up the next morning, his spot was empty.

* * *

For the next couple of days, the sex was amazing. He fucked me hard against the wall and he didn’t even try to dampen my wails.

He was a master at eating my pussy and I came numerous times just from his tongue.

But his darkness returned faster. Whenever his touches became guttural and he pumped me raw, I knew it was time.

The choking was also a sign. I wasn’t about to let the demon into our bedroom, so we ended up back in the dungeon again.

The third time, he tied me up. I felt like a ball as all my limbs were pulled in together. He hoisted me off the ground and fucked me with all sorts of objects.

It was the worst. I couldn’t walk that night, and I was teary.

As always, he asked if there was anything I didn’t want him to use, and I kept telling him no. He needed it.

The next day, I was still sore, but that night we jumped on each other again.

The fourth and fifth times were just as intense as the third. He loved tying me up, making me feel powerless by hoisting me into the air. It was clearly his thing.

I almost choked as he fucked my mouth hard. Without my hands securing his base, he had free range to use my mouth, and he was ruthless.

I didn’t want to do this anymore, but I couldn’t send him back to Sarah either.

The next morning, I would jump at his touch if I didn’t see or hear him enter a room. I think he sensed that part of me was terrified.

I always told him he startled me, though I could only use that excuse so many times. He tried to hold his demon back, but a few weeks later, I always found myself in his dungeon again.

The last time, I had to drag him back. So, there was that. A part of me was still in control.

I woke up the next day. Everything ached. I was thinking more and more about what Alfonso would look like being tied up, bitten, prodded, and cut. Blood all over his body made by sharp piercing tools.

That thought warmed me, and I couldn't help but wonder if I should change my aftercare routine, maybe switch roles.

But I knew it would break me. I wasn’t someone who would enjoy seeing my husband bleed. I wasn’t like him. I didn’t carry that type of darkness.

I got up and went to the gym room.

There were a few guards around, but neither Alfonso nor Nico. I hadn’t seen Bastian in a long time, either.

I was still searching for something to do, something that would give me purpose now that I was his wife.

Anxiety curled in my stomach. His grandmother’s 82nd birthday was approaching, and I had no idea how to speak Italian yet.

After my run, my mind felt a little clearer. I knew I needed to reclaim my power, but I had no idea how.

I rushed up the steps, my heart quickening as I found him and Nico speaking in rapid Italian. Alfonso, meanwhile, was engrossed in his espresso, the steam rising in delicate curls.

My gaze lingered on him, taking in the crisp white shirt he wore, perfectly pressed, the dark pants that fit him just right. Something stirred deep inside me.

A part of me wanted to see him undone, the way he’d seen me unravel in his dungeon, exposed, vulnerable.

I had no idea what they were discussing, but Nico nodded occasionally, tapping things into his tablet with a calm precision.

Passion surged within me, hot and insistent.

My husband was still a gorgeous giant, his face marked with tattoos that traced the contours of his skin like secrets written in ink.

His fingers, adorned with the same dark art, flexed slightly as he gestured, and I felt the pull, always the pull, toward him.

I rushed toward him as my arousal grew. I knew how to take back my power. He might not like it, but I needed this, and I needed it now.

THE WHITE RABBIT

I was in the middle of discussing the latest threat from Kai with Nico, or at least, I thought it was Kai. The attack on the docks was the last thing we needed right now.

“Incoming,” Nico muttered, and before I could process his warning, Camilla shoved me around to face her.

She was in one of her moods again, but this time, it didn’t matter that Nico was standing right there. She didn’t care.

She was busy with my buckle as Nico made sure he scrammed.

“Hey, hey, calm down.”

"Don't. Don't you dare tell me to calm down. I need this." Her voice sent a chill down my spine, sharp and dangerous.

Something had been off for the past couple of weeks, and I knew it was tied to the escalating events in the dungeon. She didn’t like the bondage but for some reason, she refused to tell me to stop.

"What do you need?"

"Stop asking me that. I don't need anything from you. I'm taking what I need now."

This was new. And honestly, I had no idea how I felt about it.

I grunted as she grasped my cock, and a curse slipped past my lips.

We were in the open but a part of me didn’t give a fuck.

Camilla went down to her knees and took me into her mouth. She was relentless today. She sucked me with force. It was hard but this was my pace. I clutched the sides of the table behind me and my legs began to tremble as I released in her throat.

I was ready to pull back, but she kept assaulting my cock.

“Fuck, Camilla,” I roared at her, she was relentless. I came a second time, hard. The pain was overwhelming, and my legs buckled beneath me. I collapsed to the floor, unable to stay upright.

When I finally came back to myself, she was still there, my runaway, sitting quietly beside me, her presence steady, unmoving.

She looked at me with a soft, knowing smile that only made the storm inside me surge harder.

“What the hell was that?” My voice came out low, ragged. I didn’t know if I should be angry, shaken, or completely in awe. Maybe all three.

She reached out, brushing her fingers across my lips, silencing the chaos in me with a single touch.

“This,” she whispered, “is part of my aftercare now.”

I stared at her, breath caught in my throat.

“What?” It was barely a word.

“You can do whatever you want with me in your dungeon with your toys and commands, but during the day, I’m king. You do as I say. And it doesn’t matter where, when, or how. Understand?”

What the fuck?

“Nod, Alfonso.”

I nodded as she smiled and bent closer to kiss me softly. “Good boy; now, put your dick away and carry on with your work.”

She rose to her feet, slow and deliberate, and I felt the corner of my mouth twitch into a smile.

I had no damn clue what had just happened, but one thing was clear: my runaway, day by day, was becoming the female version of me.

And that was both thrilling and dangerous.