A/N: Thanks for all the awesome reviews! I'm very proud to be amongst the elite group of Basta zealots, and here is the much anticipated alternate ending, in which Basta (finally) gets some. =D

He ground his hips against mine, and at the same time, pulled mine to meet his. The result was euphoric. I found myself gasping from behind the gag, and I heard him trying to stifle a moan - it came out instead as a low rumble deep in his chest. I felt a tiny splash on my breast: a drop of blood from my lip that had made its way down my chin. I must have looked a sight: a swollen lip that was bleeding profusely; a knife in between my teeth; a dress that was ripped to shreds.

I felt his tongue on my breast, roguishly licking up the small orb of blood. His face was suddenly right in mine, his mouth hovering over my lips as if about to kiss them, though the knife made this impossible. The overwhelming aroma of peppermint was all about me; made me dizzy with its thick, heady scent. I allowed my eyes to flicker closed. I was drunk on his smell, preoccupied, ignorant to the power he held over me, and only aware of the distracting perfume.

Until he plunged into me, hands around my waist, pulling me towards him. The pain was almost unbearable; agony coursed through my entire body like rainbows of motor oil spreading through water. The dull pain consumed me like a flame; the blossom of a fiery flower waking from a lifetime of hibernation. My young, innocent body was painted with the blood-red rose that accompanied the loss of virtue; it bloomed over my body, spreading through my veins like a drug.

I wanted more.

As if feeding my addiction, Basta delved again into my core, causing another grenade of ecstasy to explode in my body. My vision blurred. I was lost in the dark forest of my pain-laced pleasure, with no intention of finding my way out. I arched my back, and lolled my head so it hit the wall behind me, exposing my neck and unintentionally offering it to him. Then I felt something entirely unexpected: Basta's lips on my neck, placing searing and spine-tingling kisses along it.

As his thrusts became steadier and even deeper, rapturous moans escaped my mouth from behind my gag. I felt his warm fingers weave themselves into my chocolate brown locks, much to my surprise. Our eyes met for a moment, and for a split second, I thought I saw something other than the fierce passion for sadism that usually filled them. Could it have been…love? Was Basta capable of feeling affection for anything other than his beloved blade? I flattered myself by believing it was true; though the flash in his eyes only lasted an instant and I couldn't be sure. It was abruptly ended by another deep thrust from him, which made an ardent moan issue from my mouth, and a lustful growl come from his. The sound made my legs go weak.

Pleasure rose in my body like the roll of a tsunami, and a few seconds later, the wave broke, flooding my body with glittering seawater. It spread over every inch of my flesh; the water went into runnels of sand and spread. I heard not the embarrassing ravished moans that escaped my lips as I came, but I felt the ecstasy pump through my veins with every thick heartbeat. Spasms racked through my body, aftershocks from the orgasm. A moment later, I felt him shudder, spurred on by my shocks, as he came too. He gasped my name in my ear; a husky whisper that made me shiver.

He pulled out of me, and I suddenly felt remarkably empty, but not unfulfilled. I felt incredibly weak; my limbs had turned to jelly. I was half asleep by the time I felt something soft beneath me - Basta must have put me on his bed. I apprehensively opened one eye, but he was on the other side of the room, his face turned away from me. The position I found myself in, hands still tied awkwardly behind my back, was uncomfortable, but I was so tired that I was able to ignore it and let sleep take over.

I woke suddenly, arms cramping. I searched in the darkness of the starless night that came in through the window for the sound that woke me. It came again from the foot of the bed, a creaking sound, like the antiquated bones of an octogenarian. The part of the mattress that was below my knee buckled with the weight of a man who appeared merely as a solid mass of black in the night. I would have been more scared if I hadn't known that it was merely Basta.

He flipped me over so I was on my back; my heart began to beat rapidly again, and my breaths became deeper, providing oxygen to my racing mind. It seemed strange to me how the human reactions to danger and to attraction were so similar: the racing heart; the sweaty palms; the hyperventilation - perhaps this was no coincidence. I had no more time to contemplate this, however, because Basta - surprising me and making me yelp - ripped the front of my black dress beyond repair. I groaned.

"Mortola will kill me," I complained, muttering, mostly to myself.

"Not if I kill you first," he said, darkly. Once again, I was faced with the prospect of my own death as his knife pressed up against the soft flesh of my neck. One swift movement, and blood from my jugular could be spilled all over the sheets, dyeing them scarlet. Though I could imagine how much Basta would appreciate blood-soaked bedcovers, I doubted he would have the gumption to slaughter an innocent, vulnerable teenage girl without motive.

Besides, he wouldn't dream of sacrificing his plaything.

A dark chuckle came from the black shape that was Basta, as if he could read my mind. I felt his chest rumble with the laughter; he was right on top of me - I had barely noticed this change, as my mind was so fogged. His warm thighs were on either side of mine and I smelt the tangy peppermint that created the exhilarating and odd cooling sensation wherever he breathed. I was hypnotized by him - by his very presence. I was under his sadistic spell, so to speak. His lips were right over mine, and I could feel them brushing against mine as he spoke. He whispered something, barely audible.

"Ti piace?"

I replied, with certainty: "Amo la."

With that, he thrust into me again, making me emit a cry of surprise and pain. Now unheeded by any blade, my lips were free to pour out any sound they wished; after the initial shock of Basta's (not unappreciated) attack, these were mostly moans or cries of pleasure. I felt liberated, suddenly, from all my worries: I ceased to think about Mortola, and how I would deal with my massacred dress in the morning. I ceased to think of what punishment I might receive for tonight if anyone ever found out. I ceased to think about the immanent danger of Basta, knife at his disposal, my throat exposed to him and ready to be sliced.

He bit my sore lip again, and a fresh wave of pain washed through me. That, combined with his deep thrusts into my core - each of which felt as though I was being shattered like a thin sheet of glass - made the euphoria I was able to derive from the pain even more intense. His hypnotic touch on my waist and the agony that shuddered through my body made me come much earlier than I had anticipated. Spurred on by the aftershocks of my orgasm, he came not long after.

My body sagged; I was instantly exhausted. My limbs and my muscles felt heavy and weary, and my entire body felt like it was being engulfed by the bedsheets. I limply let Basta slide out of me, and, unheeding in the discomfort of my contorted arms and my aching core, fell asleep almost immediately.

Dawn came and interrupted my dreamless sleep far too quickly; the balmy sunlight and sleepy birdsong was not welcomed by me. Not only was it the birdsong, but also the sound of a group of young, cocky Black Jackets wasting ammunition on trying to kill the birds. I half expected to look out of the window and see Basta with them, showing off his faultless aim which he had acquired through years of knife-throwing, but instead he came in through the bedroom door, carrying a small black parcel with him, which he dropped next to the bed on which I lay.

"It's a new dress. Put it on and get back to your room before the magpie wakes up," he ordered. I obeyed, finding that my hands had been cut free. Just before I left the house into the dewy sunlight, he whispered in my ear:

"Come back tonight."

How could I disobey?

A/N: Ok, sorry about the crap ending. I only put it because I wanted to prepare you for the next chapter ;). The Italian was just him saying "Do you like it?" and her replying "I love it." I only chose to put that in because Italian is The. Sexiest. Language. Ever. Sorry it's probably hideously incorrect, but unfortunately Google Translate isn't exactly known for its accuracy. If you haven't read it already, may I recommend "Italian" by Spectregeneral, which is a Basta/Dusty fic, and it's uh-mazing. It puts mine to shame in its hotness. (Also "And now, you're mine" is pretty damn good :D)