Hear No Evil

Father Wants a Taste

**Trigger Warning: Non-consensual scene. I do not promote or support.

Salvatore stared at Eve's bewildered face while he contemplated what to say. His eyes flitted down to the damp, white dress shirt that clung to her breasts and pert nipples. Eve attempted to close the door once she knew Salvatore got a good eyeful of her goods; however, her plan was thwarted when he stuck a luxury handmade Italian leather shoe in the door. He pushed open the door, and Eve dramatically fell to the floor like a damsel in distress.

Salvatore stood over her, feet splitting her body. Eve watched as his fists clenched at his sides. She knew that he wanted to touch her. Not only touch her, but he wanted to dominate her. She'd have to feed into the fantasy. It wouldn't be difficult; Salvatore Mancini was an attractive, powerful silver fox. If Eve wasn't hellbent on revenge and could somehow overlook the blatant racism and fetishism, she would gladly be his plaything. One might wonder how a woman could reduce herself so low. But what most didn't realize was that in some cases, if the mistress played her role and kept the affair on the down low, that she made it out better than the wife. The mistress didn't have to stress about their reputation, the public's opinion, their kids, divorce, and where their lover was at night. The mistress's job was to fuck him, boost his ego, spend his money, keep his secrets, be satisfied with the arrangement, and listen to him bitch and moan about his wife—that was it.

Eve was shocked when Salvatore didn't take advantage of her vulnerable position. Instead, he offered his hand to her. She graciously accepted and was pulled to her feet. She spoke too soon. The Don took advantage and molded her body to his. Eve pulled a face when Salvatore inhaled the scent of her hair conditioner, but she didn't dare move. His hands moved in a desperate exploration, caressing her hips and trailing the curvature of her spine to the back of her neck. Salvatore held her in place with an arm wrapped around her waist as he cupped her backside. Eve rolled her eyes as Salvatore continued to fondle her like a man who hadn't had a woman in decades.

Eve had enough. She pushed him away as gently as she possibly could and gave the aging Don a sorrowful look. "I-I have no place to go, but I can earn my stay," Eve said, signing as she begged for Salvatore's grace and mercy.

"Earn your stay? How do you propose you do that? What do you have that will be useful to me?"

What's with the dog and pony show? Is this man seriously acting like he doesn't want to dive into my oasis? Eve thought to herself.

"The question isn't what do I have, it's what do you need," Eve answered in a suggestive tone.

"I need—" Salvatore was cut off when Dante entered the bedroom.

"Don't tell me dementia has set in, and you mistook my woman's bedroom for yours," Dante taunted, painfully gripping the back of Eve's neck. "I'll have to keep my eye on you, Sal. You might wander late at night and suffer an unfortunate fall down the stairs that will claim your life. I hear it happens all the time."

"Your concern for me is...endearing."

Dante placed a hand over Eve's eyes, preventing her from reading his father's lips. "Why are you here?"

"I just wanted to make sure our new guest was settled in."

"You expect me to believe that the same man who wouldn't read his son a bedtime story is suddenly Mr. Hospitality? Especially to a woman he degraded hours ago? Yeah, I'm not buying it. You only want to settle in between her thighs. Here, let me help you out." Eve let out a startled squeak when Dante dropped his hand from her eyes and he cupped between her thighs. She squeezed her legs together, attempting to shut him out, but she lost. Her hand flew to his wrist to stop his fingers from plunging her depths, but Dante wasn't deterred. "She's warm and wet inside. I bet you want a taste."

Throughout the assault, Eve kept her eyes on Salvatore's. The lustful glint in his eyes sang a thousand words. He enjoyed what Dante was doing to her. Eve bit her bottom lip and hummed when Dante delved deeper, hitting her g-spot with jackrabbit speed. Eve's head fell back onto his shoulder, and she widened her legs, giving Dante better access as he drew her closer and closer to her release. Eve wished she could say she was ashamed when she came, but she didn't. She was angry that Dante took liberty with her body, but she wasn't shocked. The man lacked serious boundaries, and despite all the hate he directed toward his father, Dante was just a scared little boy looking for his father's validation. And Eve would take full advantage of that.

She remained silent as her pussy rained onto the dark finished hardwood floors—she wouldn't give the Mancini men the satisfaction. Dante released her, and Eve balked in astonishment when Dante approached his father and smeared her arousal across his father's lips.

"I hope you enjoyed that. That'll be the last taste you ever have. Get the fuck out."

Eve narrowed her eyes in contempt when Salvatore licked his lips before strolling out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"Well, I think that went well," Dante announced, turning to face Eve. Dante didn't expect Eve to amenable after the stunt he pulled, but he hadn't expected to receive a right hook to the jaw that made him crumple to the floor like a bag of potatoes.

"He wants to play those games. Fine, I can play, too."

Eve contemplated yanking Dante's boxers down and fingering his asshole as payback, but she realized he'd probably like it too much.

Author's Note

12/12/2022