Catherinelle by Diane Portman-Ray

 

5

 

A red stained fog covered my eyes. The rage was uncontrollable and took over me. I wanted to get my hands on her, yell, kick, scream, tell her that I would kill any man she ever touched.

Cat’s body was trapped between me and the couch, my arms restricting her way, and I looked down at her amazingly innocent blue eyes that were looking back at me like she didn’t know what she was doing, like she didn’t just stab me with her fucking words. Her unnaturally beautiful face resembled what I thought an angel would look like from up-close: perfect, smooth, radiant. She was an angel but a tainted one. There was poison in Catherinelle’s fingertips. Her touch could bring a pleasure so fucking raw it was painful, and I wanted to be the only motherfucker to fall under torture.

“You wanna see Vito’s body hang from Triborough Bridge?” She just gaped, but no sound came out of her pouty lips. “Answer.”

“No.” Her voice was steady but weak.

“Then don’t say stupid shit like that. It makes me furious, Cat.”

I watched while the surprise on her face altered into depraved indignation, and she pushed me while getting up herself. Both our bodies were shaking.

“I’ve had it up to here with you, Mustafa. You might still see me as a kid, fine, but the rest of the world doesn’t! I can make my own decision. You’re my babysitter, not my father.”

“Don’t you think I fucking know that? I see how they look at you, Cat. Men turn their heads when you pass them on the street; those boys at your school can barely keep it in their pants. Fuck, I even caught fucking Roman checking you out once. I wanted to shove my hand down his throat and turn him inside out for that.” I could hear my own breath scratching the motionless air in the room. “I wanted to kill them all for drooling over you, Catherinelle.”

“Why?!” Her scream echoed between the walls. “Why do you want to protect me so viciously if you despise me so much?”

“Because I fucking want you too!”

I felt more stripped than a worshipper confessing on his knees in front of a priest who wouldn’t grant him forgiveness. My yearning for her was supposed to stay locked, hidden away in the depths of my darkness where no one would ever see it. I knew that once it was out, I was dancing on a dangerous rope.

“Then take me!” This. Fucking. Waman. She should run scared. “I offered myself to you, idiota, but you turn your back on me like I gave you herpes.”

“You’re talking stupid shit again.” There was no way. No way. Not in this world. In this world, Catherinelle was a sacred deity, and I wasn’t worth the dirt under her shrine. “There is nothing for us, Cat.”

“There is now.” She took a step forward, reaching for me, and I stepped back. “We have right now.”

It was just us there, in a bubble frozen in time, but that didn’t make things any better. A girl like Cat deserved a man who hadn’t had his palms calloused by an overused handgun. She was created for gentleness and light, and I didn’t have a drop of that.

“We can’t, Cat. I can’t.”

“Fine, then don’t fucking do anything.”

She pushed me with all her force, and I lost my balance, falling back into the chair I was sitting in front of. With tenacious moves, Cat crawled into my lap with her legs clasping my thighs and her ass landing straight on my groin. I felt like I’d been struck by lightning.

“Catherinelle, stop,” my mouth said, but my body didn’t do anything to stop her.

Her little skirt raised higher when she leaned forward, dragging her body over mine. I felt suffocated by her sweet perfume and burning touch.

“You don’t like me on top of you?” Her voice was heavy with sensuality. “Touch me, Hugo.”

“No.” I grabbed onto the arms of the chair until I felt my fingers hurting, forcing my hands to stay put.

“Testardo figlio di puttana.” But I wasn’t stubborn now; I was grabbing onto the last shred of my rationality with everything I had and sparing us both a death sentence.

Cat was hell bent on getting her way tonight, and I kept telling myself I couldn’t cave, but I couldn’t stop her either. I was a fucking slave to the calling of her flesh. Her hips made a circle in my lap, and I let my head fell back, closed my eyes and wailed. I felt her warmth through my jeans, and my dick pulsed, getting hard in a fraction of a second.

“No, you’re not going to hide this time, Mustafa.” With her small, manicured hand, she grabbed my jaw and forced my eyes on her. “You’re going to watch me.”

“You’ve lost your mind,” I whispered through my teeth.

She shut me up by bringing our mouths together. Like last night, she was the first one to jump in the abyss, but I joined her right after. She tasted like honeydew and wine, hell and heaven both in the touch of one woman. We sucked the life out of each other until we were left without oxygen, and Cat broke the link between us to breath because I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I would have rather suffocated.

“You want me,” she said, sure on her words, and it was true. I wanted her with ecstatic and feral intensity. “I can feel how hard you are. You want more, and so do I.”

She moved her hips relentlessly. Her hands landed on my shoulders, and she was grabbing onto me with the same force I was grabbing the chair, her nails cutting my skin. I welcomed the pulsating pain and hoped it would tone down the rapt pleasure I was getting from her moves.

I braced myself and looked down at our bodies. The picture was obscene and perverted, and that only made my blood pump faster into my dick. Her school girl outfit was still intact. I could see the lace borders of her thigh high stockings, and I felt the instinct to drag them down with my teeth. Seeing I was looking, Cat pushed her chest forward, her boobs landing on my mouth, and I was hopeless. I still didn’t move, but I opened my mouth, sucking her nipple through the material of the shirt, playing with it and biting ‘until I heard her cry out in pain. The play made her rock even harder, and I was ready to explode. I lost control of my hands, and they flew onto her hips, quickening her movement.

“You like that?” she asked in a breathy voice. “Tell me you like it, Hugo.”

“Fucking shit. I need you to move faster, princess. Just a little faster.”

“Tell me you like it,” she insisted, but I still didn’t comply. “You like feeling my body rubbing on yours and seeing me so wild, like nothing else matter. Can you feel how wet I am through your pants, Hugo? I’m drenched; my juices are running down my thighs. This is what you do to me.”

I clutched her hips tightly, knowing she’d be bruised in the morning, but I was afraid she’d disappear. This was too fucking perfect. There wasn’t a porno movie or wet dream in this world to match Catherinelle humping me and speaking like a girl who works the nights in Hunts Point.

“Who the fuck taught you to speak like this? I’ll kill him,” I roared, and she giggled.

“Hugo, I’m going to cum.”

I was dangling over the edge too, but it felt wrong to fucking tell her that. She kept going crazy until both of us lost it and came like maniacs. She made me mess up my pants like a was a damn teenager in his bedroom seeing his first Play Boy. When I saw her arching like a crossbow and calling my name to the ceiling, my balls tightened up, releasing another jet of cum into my briefs. It was un-fucking-believable the power her little body had over me, but I was fucking lost.

Catherinelle fell on my chest, and we both stayed there, not a muscle moving, for uncounted minutes. I needed a fucking lifetime to put myself together after that.

Her breath got calm and steady, and I knew without having to look that she had fallen asleep. I didn’t have the courage to move and disturb her sleep, so I just sat there, my hands still on her hips, and waited in the dark that swallowed the room.

Fuck me, man. Fuck me. I didn’t sign up for this. My mouth was watering for a gulp of rough whiskey, a burning Glenfiddich to burn down my throat and numb my stupid, horny mind. I hadn’t lost control over my actions and thoughts in over twenty years until now. Catherinelle played me like I was a fiddle. Even now when she was out cold, my head was full of her image. I needed to get myself together.

When Gino told me I was in charge of his sister’s security, I thought it was a bluff, that maybe he was trying to scare her into behaving and stop escaping her bulls. Until then, I hadn’t spent much time with Cat in the last few years – by choice – but every time I saw her at a party, or around her family, she’d bend over a little too much, forcing me to look at her ass, or wearing a low-cut top, shoving those boobs in my face. She was turning into a woman – a fucking gorgeous one – and I was cursed to see it. This girl grew up under my watch. I should have looked at her like she was a sister, but my dick refused to comply. I had women of all shapes and sized. I had tasted all the beauty New York City had to offer, but nothing turned me to a pile of ashes like a simple swing of her hips did.

Catherinelle Nucci turned me into a fucking traitor. A filthy mortal who let an angel touch him, only to pollute her with darkness.