She pulled the covers up further.“No need for a doctor.I’m fine.”
“I think it’s for the best.Humor me, my love.”
I needed someone beside her to tell me she was okay.That this experience wasn’t going to ruin our marriage before it even got started.Sure, we both knew that being married to someone like me came with the possibility of being hurt, but… this soon?
26
MIA
The doctor arrived—a man whose face bore the scars of one who had seen the darker side of this life and kept its secrets.Enrico stood beside as the doctor began his examination, but his eyes never left me.Every brush of the stethoscope, every press of the guy's fingers drew a silent growl from Enrico's throat.
The last thing I wanted was some strange man’s hands all over me.If this would ease his mind, then I’d do it only for that.Besides some small gashes, fucked up nose, and bruises … I’d be just fine.
“I told you I was just fine.Got hurt worse than this in high school fights.Those fuckers were weak.”
The doctor laughed.“You sure have a mouth on you.”He gawked at my husband.“You have your hands full, sir.”
He asked me to take off my shirt to check the gash on my shoulder blade.“You’re going to need some stitches.I’m gonna give you a shot of this to help the pain.”
He pulled a bottle out of his bag and sucked it up and put it straight into my arm.“Fuck!No warning, huh?”
Enrico took my hand, and he worked on my stitches.“Focus on me.What do you remember?Anything of value you can think of?”
“They didn’t talk about much in front of us.Most of the time it was foul remarks about our bodies…”
“Did they…”
I squeezed his hand.“No, baby.But if you would’ve waited a couple more hours… not sure the answer would be the same.”
He ran his fingers through his hair and growled.“Someone put them up to it.Now I have to figure out who.They are going to fucking pay for this.”
My husband was a complicated man, but one thing he knew better than anything: REVENGE.
“Everything appears to be in order.”
“Make sure she has everything she needs.”
As the doctor excused himself, leaving with a quiet nod, Enrico knelt, taking my hands in his.
I was trembling—not from fear, but from the sheer fucking relief of being back in his arms, back where I belonged.His hands were already on me, desperate, mapping every inch of me like he needed to remind himself I was real.
“Fuck, baby,” he growled, voice thick with need.“You’re home.”
His mouth crashed down on mine, hot and possessive.I whimpered into his kiss, my body arching against him, nipples already hard under my shirt.
He didn’t waste time.Didn’t care about time.His hands tore at my clothes, buttons popping, fabric ripping, until I was bare and panting in front of him.His gaze raked over me—every bruise, every fucking mark—and his jaw clenched.
“Gonna make you forget,” he snarled, dragging me against him.“Gonna make you feel better.”
He lifted me like I weighed nothing, slamming me back against the wall, my legs wrapping around his waist on instinct.His mouth was on my throat, teeth scraping, sucking dark fucking promises into my skin.One hand gripped my ass, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, while the other shoved between them, ripping open his fly just enough to free his cock—thick, veined, leaking pre-cum like a fucking faucet.
I gasped as the blunt head of him pressed against my soaked slit.
“Tell me,” he demanded, voice rough as gravel.“Tell me you want it.”
“Fuck—yes,” I moaned, nails raking down his back.“Need you—please?—”
He didn’t make me beg twice.
