My father sold me to the Mafia King-Chapter 89 - 90/Internal Combustion

Chapter 90:

Robert’s Point of View

The congestion was still gnawing at my lower abdomen, and my dick flatly refused to retreat from its violent erection.

I looked at it out of the corner of my eye and said with bitter sarcasm:

"Really? You get erect over a girl who slapped herself just at the thought of kissing me?"

I fixed my gaze on it and spoke to it with rigidity, as if I were waiting for it to regain its lost composure.

I said again, my voice trembling from the sheer physical pressure:

"Are you going to make me do it with my hand? I am Robert... I discharge my lust using my hand?"

A faint laugh escaped me at the state I had reached, then I encircled my dick with my broad grip.

I began rubbing it with regular movements from top to bottom; my entire body trembled, and a searing shiver ran down my spine.

My back arched slightly, and my thigh muscles stiffened with every ring my fingers made around its congested shaft, until I muttered her name unconsciously, in a thick tone dripping with raw desire:

"Julie..."

The matter continued for twenty continuous minutes of struggling with my body; it was an unbearable torment, and I felt that my hand alone would not be enough to extinguish this fire.

I threw my body onto the bed, closing my eyes tightly until images began to dance behind my eyelids, while my hand turned into a grinding machine, gripping my dick and rubbing it with a frenzied force that knew no mercy.

I imagined her approaching me, her breath brushing my earlobe as she whispered my name softly:

"Robert."

In my imagination, I was drowning in kissing her full lips, and squeezing her plump breasts between my palms with all the desire I possessed.

My back arched off the bed, and my neck muscles spasmed until their veins bulged, and her name came out from deep within me in a muffled voice accompanied by a long moan:

"Jul-ie..."

Suddenly, a violent electric shock swept through my veins, shaking my entire being, and a viscous, hot liquid ejaculated onto my hand and stomach in abundance.

I remained lying in my place, my body trembling with a sudden relaxation, my breaths coming out panting and fragmented as if I had run for miles.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead with a trembling hand and said in a panting voice filled with amazement:

"If this is my state just from seeing her in a bra... then how will I control myself if I see her completely naked, or truly touch her skin?"

I looked at the viscous liquid staining my hand and stomach, and felt a flicker of shame sweep through my features. I exhaled with annoyance, averting my gaze:

"I haven’t had sex in a week... yes, that is the only explanation for this shameful state."

Then I added, trying to convince myself out loud:

"I need to go to Sarah tonight."

I rose from the bed, a muffled and dry laugh escaping me; surely a man like me couldn’t desire a virgin child like her it’s just a longing for sex, nothing more.

I suddenly remembered that I had ordered her to come to my office, so I grabbed my phone and quickly pressed the call button for "Ron."

"Ron, go to my office... if you find Julie there, tell her to return to her room immediately."

His voice came through the receiver, sounding surprised:

"Mr. Robert, you sent me since this morning with the lawyer, did you forget?"

I struck my forehead with my palm in annoyance and said:

"Damn it... yes, I completely forgot."

I continued mechanically:

"Fine, Ron, call one of the guards to carry out the task."

As soon as he ended the call, the image of "Jake Simon" jumped into my mind.

That bastard thinks that with his intelligence and false claims about cocaine, he might catch me.

He didn’t realize that I was steps ahead of him when I turned off the cameras in the restaurant, and he couldn’t even uncover Julie’s identity behind her mask.

He believes his inventions will surpass my cunning; what a delusional man.

I moved toward the bathroom, pushing the door with the hand that still carried the trace of my act, and stepped under the showerhead to wash off that mess staining my body and my dignity.

I came out of the bathroom with water still dripping from my wet hair onto my shoulders when my phone rang with annoying persistence.

I glanced at the screen; it was Harold.

I exhaled with annoyance as I dried my face with the towel:

"I’m in no mood to talk to you, my dear brother."

But the phone didn’t stop; three consecutive calls made my nerves tense, so I finally opened the line and placed the phone to my ear.

"What do you want, Harold? Is there an emergency that requires all these calls?"

His voice came back charged with anxiety:

"Robert, the inventor who sold me his invention is in prison."

I replied coldly as I threw the towel aside:

"I know."

Harold continued:

"He is accusing you of being the one who set this trap for him."

I tightened my grip on the phone and said in a monotonous voice:

"I have sent the lawyer."

My brother went on as if the words were coming out of him with difficulty:

"He is accusing a waitress... he says she is the one who approached him and planted something on him."

I stopped moving completely, a look of sarcasm mixed with boredom appearing on my face:

"Harold, my brother, are you telling me things I already know?"

He said in a slightly trembling tone:

"I just want to know the truth."

I narrowed my eyes and said concisely:

"What truth?"

Harold shouted from the other end:

"He is accusing you, Robert! He says he is innocent!"

I shook my head mockingly and said as I walked toward my wardrobe:

"Harold, no one admits to their crime; everyone claims innocence behind bars."

He tried to interrupt:

"But Robert, he..."

I cut him off firmly as I ended the call with a strong press of my thumb:

"Harold, I have work now, we’ll talk later."

I pulled out a dark red suit and paired it with a pitch-black tie.

I stood before the mirror and ran my hand over my wet hair using the dryer, until the water droplets flew away and the trace of moisture disappeared completely.

I got dressed then took one last look at my reflection; my dignity had returned to me, and all traces of the tension left by my meeting with "Julie" had vanished, and I left the room.