Phantom

November 18, 1944

“Would you ever let me read your diary?”

I didn’t intend to ask such an invasive question, but curiosity got the best of me. I lean against the doorframe to the living room, watching her as she scribbles in the leather-bound book. It’s midafternoon, and Sera left only ten minutes ago. I didn’t waste time coming inside once she had gone, and Genevieve has been studiously ignoring me since.

Or rather, trying to. A wicked little smile has been playing on her lips since my arrival.

I’ve tucked my hands in my pockets, forcing myself to stay put despite how my fingers continuously twitch with the need to touch her.

Genevieve peeks up at me, a coquettish you know better expression on her beautiful face.

“Then you would be privy to all my deepest, darkest desires, Mr. Capello,” she teases. “You might find me boring if you knew everything about me.”

I raise a brow and smirk. “I don’t believe that’s possible, my love. I suspect that I’ll only grow more fascinated by you.”

She hums and leans back into the rocking chair, staring at me thoughtfully, sustaining her impish look. Then she lifts her journal before her face, only allowing me to see her sparkling blue eyes.

Mischievousness sparks within them as she flips a page before her sensual voice rings out. “November seventeenth, 1944,” she recites, flicking her stare toward me for the briefest of seconds. “Ronaldo said he’d visit me tomorrow, and it’s all I can think about. I wonder if he’ll touch me again or use his tongue in all his favorite places.” She holds my gaze as she says the next sentence, though appetency swirls within hers. “They are also my favorite places.”

My hands in my pockets curl into tight fists as she continues and effectively ignores the way my stare bores into her. “Though I can’t help but wonder if he’d like my tongue on him, too. I’ve thought about it many times over the months. Even dreamed about it. But I’ve never done something like that before, so today, I decided to practice. I never thought I’d live to see a day where I’m stuffing a banana down the back of my throat, but—”

My mind goes blank, and my vision blurs as I rush to her. I’m across the room in mere seconds. She yelps when I rip the journal from her grasp, sending it flying with one hand and fisting her curls with the other. I’m pulling her to her feet one second, and the next, I’m devouring those filthy red lips.

Never in my thirty-six years did I think a woman’s putting a piece of fruit down her throat would threaten to send me to my knees, yet the image of her doing so just to please me has me spiraling.

“If you wanted to practice, baby, I’m happy to oblige,” I growl against her abused mouth, my chest filling with fire. My cock is already straining against my trousers, and it throbs painfully from the knowledge that she wants to wrap those pretty lips around it.

“What if I’m terrible at it?” she asks breathlessly.

Clutching her curls tighter, I yank her head back, evoking a little yelp from her throat. I’m helpless to control myself and be gentle with her.

“You are incapable of doing anything wrong, Genevieve. If wrapping your lips around my cock meant suffering, I’d spend the rest of my days at your mercy.”

She peers up at me through her eyelashes coyly.

“Then it’s fortunate that I only aim to please you.” She plants her hands on my chest and pushes away from me, and I let her go, watching her closely as she backs a few feet away.

Her green floral dress cuts into a deep V-neck, dainty buttons trailing down the length of it and holding the fabric tight to her curves. She toys with the top button, right below a hint of cleavage.

My mouth waters as she plucks it free, then the next, and onward until the top half of the dress is parted, exposing her silky brassiere. Instead of removing the dress completely, she slides her arms free of the three-quarter sleeves, allowing the material to droop to her waist.

Next, she reaches behind her and unhooks the bra, letting it fall to the floor.

My God, I’ll never tire of the sight of her. Full breasts that are more than a handful and have gone unappreciated for far too long. I’ve licked and sucked those rosy-pink nipples any chance I could get over the past few months, yet it never seems enough. A conundrum I can’t seem to escape, despite how often I ravish her body.

I always. Need. More.

She points to her rocking chair. “Would you sit for me?” she asks sweetly, and I’m tempted to bite her just for playing innocent.

She is innocent, in some ways—her mouth, and her plump backside that is begging to be explored. But she certainly has expressed no desire to stay that way. And I have no plans to allow her to.

I grin, licking my bottom lip slowly before biting down on it as I pass her, causing those red lips to part in anticipation. I make no effort to hide the animalistic hunger gnawing at the inside of my chest. I want her to see me for the predator that I am. And I want her to feel like every bit of the prey that she is.

First, I move the stool out of the way, allowing her ample space to kneel. Then I adopt a casual posture and sit in her chair, leaning back and keeping my legs spread, my elbows perched on the armrests.

She stands several feet away, and when she goes to take a step, I hold up a palm, stopping her. Her eyes flare wide, but I don’t allow embarrassment to settle in.

I nod at her. “Kneel right there.”

Her brows knit in confusion, and she hesitates for only a moment before dropping to her knees. The pale skin of her chest is flushing red, and the color slowly works its way up her throat. She’s becoming nervous, though she tries to hide it.

Genevieve is a confident woman. Yet all it takes is one look from me for her to squirm beneath my stare.

“Now crawl to me, mia rosa.”

She swallows thickly, and I see the decision settle over her gaze as she turns from unsure of herself to a powerful vixen in a matter of seconds. She may act beneath my command, but she knows it is I who am beholden to her.

Licking her lips, she stares at me with a seductive look, her blue eyes bright beneath her thick, black eyelashes—her straight white teeth toying with her bottom lip.

A goddamn goddess, she is. Derived directly from the myths carved into ancient ruins.

I’m enraptured by her as she gets on her hands and slowly crawls to me, her hips and beautiful tits swaying seductively.

A growl works its way out of my throat before I can stop it. I’ve seen many beautiful sights in my years. But nothing could even begin to compare to Genevieve Parsons crawling on her hands and knees for me.

By the time she reaches me, my hands are clenched around the armrests, and I’m two seconds from exploding. Decades of experience to build my stamina as a man, and one woman is threatening to revert me to a prepubescent boy.

I keep silent as she reaches for my belt, sucking on her bottom lip in anticipation. There’s a slight tremor in her hands as she unbuckles the leather, though her fingers are deft. She has my trousers unfastened in seconds, and by the time she releases my cock from the slit in my briefs, it’s painfully hard and throbbing in her small hand.

A hint of nervousness rears its head again, and she glances up at me. “You’ll tell me what you like?”

“Anything,” I rasp, the word damn near breaking apart at the syllables. “I’ll love anything you do to me.”

My assurance—or maybe how I’m so clearly unraveling—is all she requires to gather her confidence. Keeping her blue eyes pinned to me, she leans forward and wraps her lips around the tip of my cock. I hiss between my teeth, and she studies me closely as her tongue darts out and licks the bead of precum.

It’s not her experience with men that keeps her gaze locked on mine—most women know that’s any man’s undoing. She does so because she strives to satisfy me, and she’s devoted to watching my every expression to ensure she does just that. The damn woman has no idea that her eye contact alone is more than enough to send me over the edge.

She reaches her hand up and wraps it around my length, and I’m immediately sitting up. “Nope, you’re going to make me come before I get a chance to enjoy it. Put your damn hands behind your back,” I demand roughly. She pulls away, blinking in confusion, though she still obeys.

I rip my belt from the loops and then lean forward, wrapping the leather around her wrists and tying them together tightly.

When I lean back, there’s an amused smile playing on her lips.

“I’m only to use my mouth?”

“Yes,” I all but snarl. I’ve never been this uncontrolled, and I’m damn near terrified I’ll come after mere moments, robbing us both of an incredible experience. If I knew this was going to happen today, I’d have taken care of myself beforehand if only to save myself from utter embarrassment.

“Okay,” she says simply. “Am I allowed to continue?”

I thin my eyes. “You have two seconds, Genevieve.”

She perks up and doesn’t dare waste another instant. My eyes shutter the moment her wet heat is engulfing the tip of my cock again, this time venturing further down my length.

I don’t expect her to take all of me, so I let her test her own limits for now. I have every intention of pushing her, but only after she’s accustomed to the feel of me sliding in and out of her throat.

She takes her time exploring my length with her tongue almost curiously at first, as if she’s tasting a new cuisine for the first time. Then she grows bolder and licks me with more sureness. All the while, we watch each other, entirely riveted by one another’s expressions.

As her confidence grows, her cheeks hollow. The first time she truly sucks on my cock, a moan spills from my lips. Her blue eyes flare from the sound, and determination settles in her gaze. It’s the moment I know I’m done for.

And she proves me right. With eagerness, she sucks me harder, bobbing her head up and down as she does and flattening her tongue against the underside of my cock. She’s intent on pulling more of those sounds out of me, and I yearn to please her, so I loosen my restraint and let her hear just how feral she makes me.

“God, baby, you suck me so pretty,” I whimper, losing my mind over the red lipstick smeared down my length. Soon, her lips will be wiped clean of it, and I’d be happy to use my cock to reapply it.

Invigorated, she moans around me and bobs her head earnestly, swallowing as much as she can until she gags, evoking another grunt from my lips.

“Such a good girl,” I whisper. “What would your husband think of seeing you like this, gagging on my cock?”

She flicks a glare at me, and I grin in return, my eyelids drooping. “He’d be devastated, watching his innocent wife choking me down like a little slut.”

Now, she keeps her watery blue eyes pinned to me again, fire raging within, though she doesn’t dare retreat. Instead, she sucks me harder, evoking a groan.

“It would torture him, wouldn’t it, baby? Knowing that he will never fill your throat like I do.” I manage a chuckle, the sound distorted with pleasure. “He can’t even fill your cunt like I can.”

A lone tear tracks down her cheek, muddled with eyeliner. I smear it across her skin with my thumb, biting back another grin.

“Don’t worry, mia rosa. I’ll make him watch while I fuck you like you deserve, then I’ll cut off his hands and cock so he can never touch you again.” I snarl, overcome with the thought. Then I whisper, “Poor Johnny-boy, bleeding out on the floor while I make his wife scream my name.”

She makes a high-pitched sound, her cheeks flushed and her eyes fiery. But I know her pussy is dripping wet. She pretends to be affronted by the words, yet she swallows me down until she gags again, and it takes effort to keep my eyes from rolling.

“Fuck, Genevieve, keep sucking it like that. You’re doing so good.”

Eagerly, she obliges, swallowing me down until she gags once more. My balls tighten, and I continue to moan and mutter encouragements, words tumbling from my mouth that I hardly understand. Each time, she seems to become more desperate for the next one.

“So fucking proud of you.”

“Swallow it, deeper. Please, baby, I need it.”

“Fuck, that’s it. That’s a good girl.”

“Oh, just like that. Please don’t stop sucking it.”

The pleasure she elicits is astronomical, and it takes every bit of concentration to keep from exploding in her mouth. I’m too goddamn enraptured to let it be over yet.

Especially because I have so much more in store for her.

Deciding that she’s practiced enough, I curl a hand into her hair and pull tight. She pauses, yet it’s pointless because I’m shoving her head down, her lipstick staining my cock.

A little squeal resounds against me, but I pay it no mind. With her hands tied, she’s unable to stop me as I lift her head until the tip pops free, a trail of saliva connecting from her lips to my head. Her eyes are rounded at the corner, and her tongue is hanging past her lips while she pants heavily.

I mourn that I’m unable to take a photograph of her like that. I’d never let go of it, carrying it around with me for my eyes only. And when my day came, I’d ensure it was the last thing I saw before I took my final breath.

I see no way through this life without her. Obsession, addiction, love—they are meager words to describe what I feel for her.

“Such a pretty whore for me, mia rosa,” I growl.

“If I were your whore,” she whispers, “you’d fuck my mouth like one.”

I lose it.

She dares tempt a beast, and I’m happy for her to suffer those consequences.

I’m shoving her down on my cock instantly, and she’s ready for me, swallowing me down with ease. I pump my hips into her mouth, guiding her head as I do until she receives exactly what she asked for—I fuck her mouth.

Unintelligible sounds pour from my throat as I come undone, spitting out words through clenched teeth. “That’s it, baby, that’s how you suck my fucking cock. Such a desperate little slut for me, aren’t you? You fucking love choking on it, don’t you?”

Still I’ve no idea what I’m saying, and maybe later realization will settle in, and I’ll be ashamed of the way I spoke to her. Right now, I’m out of my damn mind, and I couldn’t care less about what spills past my lips.

Euphoria has my stomach clenching and balls constricting. I feel my length swelling in her mouth, causing her to gag as I hold her head down, entirely lost as the pleasure comes to claim me like a reaper who witnessed my last breath.

“Yes, yes, make me come, baby, make me fucking come.”

She gags, and I erupt so forcefully that I sit upright, cradling her head against me as I’m consumed. Distinctly, I feel a shout burst past my lips as I flood her throat, followed by uncontrollable moans and whimpers as I mindlessly rut into her mouth.

The ecstasy is too much—too strong—causing me to bite my goddamn tongue as I’m swept beneath the tidal wave. Colors detonate in my vision, and my cock feels as if it’s literally going to explode from the pressure.

It’s intense and breathtaking, and fuck, is it violent.

Soon enough, it eases, then becomes too sensitive. I pull her head back, needing some type of relief from the sensation.

I’m getting too old to experience something like that, and for a moment, I’m convinced I’m on the verge of having a stroke. My chest is tight, and I can’t inhale a single breath.

However, after a few more moments, the constriction around my chest eases, and my lungs loosen. Tremors rack my body as I slump back into the chair, a hand over my mouth as I stare at her in utter shock.

All the while, she stares at me like she was just handed an Oscar for her performance.

“I rather like it when you beg.”

“My God, Genevieve,” I choke out. “Are you trying to kill me?”

She grins devilishly, crimson and saliva smeared across her chin. “How else will we spend eternity together?”

November 17, 1944

Ronaldo said he’d visit me tomorrow, and it’s all I can think about. I wonder if he’ll touch me again or use his tongue in all his favorite places.

They are also my favorite places.

Though I can’t help but wonder if he’d like my tongue on him, too. I’ve thought about it many times over the months. Even dreamed about it. But I’ve never done something like that before, so today, I decided to practice. I never thought I’d live to see a day where I’m stuffing a banana down the back of my throat, but there I was, gagging on a piece of fruit.

My eyes watered instantly, and a tear tracked down my cheek.

And I just knew that if Ronaldo were there watching me, he would have loved the way I looked.

Now, I don’t know if I will ever look at bananas the same.