I gurgle around him, enjoying my little victory. It doesn’t matter what he says…because I got to him.
But in this war between us, nobody really wins. He takes control, fucking my mouth as if it’s little more than an object to be used until he empties himself. He’s intentionally depriving me of his pleasure and praise—the thing I want most from him.
“You want her to hear you choking on my cum?” he taunts. “Is that it?”
Undeniably, the thought of Genevieve just outside the door listening gives me a certain satisfaction. So I nod against him.
“Since you asked so nicely.”
He shoves his cock down my throat and holds me there for so long I feel like I can’t breathe. When I start to struggle against him, he pulls me up for air.
“Giving up already?” he asks. “We’ve only just begun.”
I take him back into my mouth and let him fuck out his frustration. The more I relax, the more he gives. When his last thread of restraint snaps and the primal sounds of his satisfaction fill the space between us, it feeds the darkest part of me.
I want to be the only one who can give him this.
When I moan around him, he shudders, and I realize he likes that sound of approval just as much as I do. He drags his fingers through my hair, sending little shocks of pleasure through me. Gathering a fistful, he angles my head back slightly, like he needs to see more of my face.
When I look up at him, eyes soft, so obviously owned by him in this moment, he tips his head back and releases a long, painful groan.
His cock empties into my mouth, and I swallow everything he gives me. It feels intimate and possessive, and I don’t want it to end. I keep sucking him even as he softens, drawing out every last drop and licking him clean.
“That’s enough,cara.” He stills me with his grip on my hair.
For a fleeting second, I catch a glimpse of tenderness in his eyes as he pulls his cock from my mouth and brushes a thumb over my lips. It disappears into the void of darkness a moment later.
“That was a waste,” he says. “I can’t get you pregnant there.”
I rise on stiff legs and wipe the mascara leaking down my face, trying to hold it together long enough to say my piece.
“I know what I’ve done to you. So you can punish me as much as you like, but it won’t change anything,” I tell him. “I didn’t walk away because I was disloyal to you, Angelo. What I did to you, I did for you.”
His face is a mask of indifference. He doesn’t believe me, and he never will. I turn and walk out the door, trying to breathe through the agony crushing my rib cage. When Genevieve sees how wrecked I am, she smirks.
“Trouble in paradise already?” She casts me a pitiful glance as I brush past her.
“My marriage isn’t your business.”
“I’m just offering you my sympathy, Abella. It must be so hard on you.”
I hate that I pause to hear her out, but I do. “What must be so hard?”
She lowers her voice, as if she’s telling me a secret. “Everyone knows he only married you because you were already bought and paid for.”
Her words hit their intended target with brutal accuracy.
That’s exactly what Angelo said the night we married.
Maybe I should have believed him.
26
ANGELO
“Good evening, Mr. Vitale,” the stewardess greets me as I step onto the jet. “Would you care for any drinks or meals once we’re in the air?”
“No. I’ll wait until morning.”
