Dirty Obsession (Dirty 1)

I take a step back after already getting a piece of Nina’s rage and knowing better than to be near her when she’s this pissed.

She smiles sweetly as she walks toward Matteo, but I know that her feelings beneath the surface are anything but sweet. She acts like she is about to kneel in front of Matteo to suck his dick, but instead, she knees him as hard as she can in the goods.

I smile. Good girl, I think, but I don’t dare say it because I don’t want to be the next target of her wrath.

Matteo doubles over in pain.

“Let’s get one thing clear,” she says as she stands, completely naked and unashamed in front of us. “I’m done playing both of your stupid games. I understand that, for whatever stupid reason, I am in your debt for the next seven years. Something that I plan on getting changed ASAP. But, in the meantime, I will do normal things that people do to pay back a debt. I will clean for you. Do your laundry. Cook for you. Work for you. But there will be no more sex unless I say so. Got it?” Her voice is raspy after not having anything to drink for twenty-four hours, and her eyes are dark.

Her body shakes a little as she stands, and I know, despite how tough she is acting, she doesn’t even have the strength to stand much longer.

“No,” I say.

Nina turns her glare toward me. “No?”

“No,” I say again. “You are ours. We can fuck you whenever we want.”

She smirks. “You can, but you won’t. I don’t know why you two don’t rape me like your father did, but I know that you won’t.”

I take a step toward her. “Are you sure about that? I’ve fucked you before against your will.”

She pushes back. “That was because you were protecting me.”

“Was I? Or did I just tell you that to get you to trust me?”

“Enough with the games. I know that you both have some sort of truce. I’ve figured that much out. I don’t understand what it is or why, but I do know that neither of you will fuck me again without my expressed permission to do so. You can’t hurt me.”

Matteo finally pulls himself off the ground where he was writhing in pain. “You sure? Or do you just wish that it were true? Because the thought of either of us fucking you against your will like our father did is too much for you to bear?”

Her eyes dart back and forth between us. She crosses her arms over her chest. “You won’t hurt me. I’m going to go get a drink, food, and clothes, and then you two are going to start explaining. Everything.”

Nina storms past both of us and into the kitchen inside Matteo’s rooms.

We both let her go. Both amused and turned on by the fact that she thinks she has any control over us. She thinks she has everything figured out, but she doesn’t. She’s not even close to the truth. Still, she has figured out a lot of things much sooner than most women who have been enslaved to us.

Matteo and I follow her into the kitchen where she has already pulled out a bottle of water and is quickly downing it. When she finishes t

he bottle of water, she starts pulling everything she can find out of the small fridge. Pizza, chicken, and pasta. She opens the box with the pizza and starts eating it cold.

She looks at Matteo. “Clothes. Now,” she demands.

He smiles as he pulls his own filthy button-down shirt off his body and tosses it to her. She catches it.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you? But I haven’t showered in weeks, so I really don’t care. I’m just tired of you two staring at my boobs and ass.”

She puts the shirt on, making sure to button it all the way up so that we can no longer see any skin before she continues eating her pizza while sitting on the counter.

She opens her mouth as she looks to me, about to say something but then stops when she sees the blood. She hops down from the counter she was sitting on and hobbles over to me. Her muscles must be sore from being tied up and still weak from my father’s beatings.

Nina grabs the hem of my shirt and lifts it up, and her eyes go wide from what she sees. “You were shot,” she says calmly, still staring at my wound.

I nod. “I don’t expect much sympathy from you since you already shot me.”

She looks up at my eyes with a narrowed stare that might almost mirror concern if I didn’t know her better. She looks back at my wound. “What happened?”

I push my shirt down. “Just a normal day at work. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. It looks worse than when I shot you.”