Now it’s me who’s stiffening with indignation.
My father shakes his head emphatically, and when he rises from his chair this time, the enforcer doesn’t stop him. “I don’t know where you got that impression. Emilia is a virgin. I’ve kept her under tight surveillance, ensuring that.”
Maximus doesn’t answer. Instead, his hand resting on my belly snakes under my nightgown, and he dips his fingers into my lace panties. I jerk in his arms with my hair swinging wildly, trying to avoid the invasive touch, but he tightens his grip on my breast in warning, and the pain of that has me gasping. When he slides his fingers along my folds and over my clit, I bite my inner cheek until blood flows over my tongue, preventing me from groaning.
Maximus inhales sharply the moment his fingertip grazes my sex, and I know it’s because of the dampness he’s found there. My face flames, and I hang my head, not only in shame but so no one else in the room discovers my secret. My hair shields my face, just as my nightgown prevents everyone from seeing what Maximus is doing to my body. And my back hides his cock from view as it grows hard.
He slides his finger inside me, and I completely stop breathing. The feeling is strange, and I swear my spine is going to snap from how rigid I am. He explores me languidly, swiping my vaginal walls in a circular motion. This stretches me a little, and when my inner muscles clench in response, his cock jumps. Then he adds another finger, and I rise onto the balls of my feet, frightened by the unfamiliar pressure. Humiliation courses through my blood at the knowledge I was slick enough for the penetration not to cause discomfort.
Father Aldo mumbles the Lord’s Prayer incessantly, starting in English. Then he proceeds to say it in every language he knows. I am also beseeching my maker for this to end, for him to take me from this hell.
But then Maximus strokes me in a peculiar way that has my sex quivering with desire and a moan gathering on my tongue. He quickens his pace, sending me into a tailspin as my body calls out to him, weeps for him.
Now this hell has become heaven on earth.
My orgasm builds, and I fight it with everything I have. From my mind to my heart, and down to my soul, I struggle to keep from coming undone in Maximus’s arms.
“Are you fucking satisfied?” Caruso demands, the skin of his jaw tight. “If she’s not a virgin anymore, it’s your fault, and believe me, I’ll demand recompense.”
Much to my relief, Maximus withdraws his hand from my body, and I pull in lungfuls of air to keep from passing out. I brush the material of my nightgown to make sure it’s back in its original position, and then I fist my hands by my sides while clenching my thighs as if that will keep him at bay.
“I believe you,” Maximus says, his tone calm and emotionless.
Anger and disgust are as familiar to me as my own name. My father exhibited those emotions toward me on numerous occasions, especially after my disgraceful behavior at the gala. And Maximus did the same to me upstairs not too long ago. I know how to handle those negative feelings because they’re nothing new.
But this feeling of want? This yearning for more?
I don’t know how to fight my sexual attraction to Maximus, and because he’s my enemy, I need to find a way. However, compared to my father, I’m hoping Maximus is the lesser of two evils.
My fallen angel dances with the devil that is Caruso.
Is it better to end up with the ruler of hell?
Or the angel who’s lost his chance at redemption and perhaps his very soul?
Maximus
My bride’s cunt was fucking wet.
I still can’t get over that revelation.
“…in sickness and in health, ‘til death do you part?” Father Aldo says quietly, his mumbling interrupting my thoughts. He glances at me as if I’m holding a gun to his head and waits for my response like he’s not sure it’ll come.
Or maybe he hopes it won’t.
“I do.” My voice is firm, resolute. I planned this, so there will not be any hesitation on my part.
The priest turns his focus downward to the rosary in his hands and continues on with the marriage vows, saying them as though we’re at a funeral instead of a wedding.La donnacciarepeats the words, and I’m surprised to find her tone lacking fear, especially after everything that’s occurred so far. Maybe she is insane.
That would be the only reason someone would marry me without apprehension.
“Til death do you part?” Father Aldo really asks it this time, instead of merely reciting the question from memory. Is he trying to ascertain whether this is her choice? What an idiotic notion. Emilia is no freer from this marriage than I am from my revenge. Yet someday I will obtain the justice I’m seeking.
And she will still belong to me.
She takes a deep breath. “I do.”
After the vow has been said, her body relaxes in my hold. It’s minute, but I’m able to detect it nonetheless. This is surprising, although it’ll never be as shocking as her damp inner thighs. I didn’t believe Caruso’s claims about his daughter being a virgin, and why would I? He’s a fucking coward that lies to save his own ass or to fuck someone else over. In this he was truthful, and it’s likely never to happen again.
