He grips my wrists until I gasp in pain. “Don’t mention her to me,” he grits out between clenched teeth. “You don’t have the right.”
“The right?” I nearly screech. “You think because you fucked me, it gives youthe rightto treat me this way? Go to hell, Tristano.”
I’m done being quiet and if someone discovers us, then so be it.
I yank on my arms, trying to get free, and he smirks at me. The sardonic look lights a fire in my belly and now I’m two seconds from screaming my frustration. I twist in his hold and all he does is lean his body against mine to keep me from thrashing about. However, the moment his cock presses into my stomach, I stop moving.
He uses my stillness to adjust his hold on me, gathering and trapping both of my wrists above my head, anchoring them to the metal with a single grip. This new position forces my breasts to thrust forward, molding me to him all the more, even though there’s hardly any space between us.
“You’re right about me,” he says. “I do think I have the right to a great number of things…” He grazes the side of my breast with his knuckles and then slides his hand further down until he’s cupping me between my legs. “Especially where you’re concerned.”
“You’re wrong.”
Those two words are all I can manage. My anger and hurt have fused together, becoming a single heated emotion, but Tristano is transforming that into arousal by putting his hands on me. I will my body to withstand the temptation he offers and not react to the pleasure of his touch, but I know my resistance won’t last long. I’ve already experienced what it’s like to be with him and my skin is already prickling with awareness, growing flushed and warm.
“Am I wrong?” He places his thumb over my clit and then tightens his grip. Jolts of arousal zip through me, making my sex clench and my clit throb. “Am I wrong to think that fucking this pussy means it’s mine?”
I nod, unable to do anything else.
“If it’s not mine, then who does it belong to, Violetta?” I do nothing except narrow my gaze in suspicion as he continues. “Are you saying it’s Benito’s now?”
My head is foggy with lust and my body is begging me to give in to him so he can relieve the ache that’s rapidly building. All of that makes it hard for me to concentrate and keep my anger at the forefront, not my desire.
“Silence is agreeance,” Tristano says, his tone darkening.
He hooks his thumb on the crotch of my panties and pulls them with so much strength they rip as they travel down my thighs. I suck in a breath at the savagery of it all and stare up at him with my eyes round and my lips parted in disbelief. But there is no time for words.
Not when Tristano drives his fingers inside me.
He groans and grinds his cock against my thigh while I struggle to breathe, from both shock and pleasure. “Fuck!” he says on a hiss. “You’re soaking for me,ribelle. You can tell me this pussy isn’t mine, but it knows better.Iknow better. It remembers my cock and readies itself to be fucked for me.Byme.”
After pulling my lower lip into my mouth, I bite down on it to keep from moaning. He can’t know how right he is about everything. I won’t give him that satisfaction because he doesn’t deserve it.
What Tristano needs is pain, just like he gave me.
I shake my head vehemently, almost wildly, not only to get his attention but to let him know the strength of my rejection. “Not foryou, not anymore.”
His entire frame turns to stone. The beating of his heart and the pulsing of his cock are the only flickers of life. Even his chest stops moving until he inhales deeply.
“Whose pussy is this then?” He slightly withdraws his fingers, adds a third, and then pistons them in and out of my body at a dizzying speed, driven by his fury. “Tell me,Violet,” he sneers, his lip curling on the nickname Beni gave me. “Tell me who I’ll be murdering tonight for touching what’s mine.”
A choking sound is what emerges when I try to speak because the ecstasy soaring through me is overwhelming and I can’t breathe, let alone think. My sex squeezes around Tristano’s fingers, wanting more, faster and harder. Every thrust pitches me, catapults me toward my orgasm and if it weren’t for him holding my wrists, I might not be able to stand on my own. As it is, my body shakes intensely, not only from the sensual assault but also because my arousal is spiraling out of control.
I feel like I’ll fucking die if I don’t come.
All I need is to hear one more filthy word out of his mouth and I’ll fall into bliss.
He lowers his head to my breast and bites down on my nipple, making me cry out. “These tits belong to me, to suck and bite. And this pussy is mine,” he says on a thrust, “to stretch, to fuck, and to fill with my cum.”
He releases my wrists and brings that hand to my clit, circling it with gentle strokes while finger fucking me. I grip the iron lattice work and hang on so I don’t plummet to the floor, but even with that support my legs almost buckle.
“And this clit?” he murmurs. “It’s mine to tease and to touch. Every part of you is mine. Every gasp, cry, drop of arousal, orgasm, and kiss. All fuckingmine.”
My orgasm strikes me like lightning, streaking throughout every nerve ending in my body, from the roots of my hair and down to my toes. I scream from the power of it and Tristano is quick to silence me with his mouth, crushing his lips to mine. It stifles the keening sound, but my body is still wailing its release. The tremors coursing through me bring me to tears, from the rapture and also the severity.
I come so violently that Tristano growls against my lips. He takes each cry and whimper into his mouth, feasting on them as if they’re sustenance. His fingers don’t stop their delicious torture and I mumble incoherent pleas for a reprieve, but he just absorbs them, stealing them by sweeping his tongue across mine.
“You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re like this,” he rasps, “begging for what onlyIcan give you. So beg,ribelle. Beg me to have mercy on you, to fuck you until this pussy doesn’t come for anyone else.”
