My voice cracks into a plea, though I try hard to keep my voice down. “Get me out of here. Please.”
He shakes his head, jaw clenching, reaching between us and undoing his pants. “I can’t. Guards everywhere, cameras, we’re on a fucking island. We’d need a boat or a God damn chopper, and I don’t have it.”
He drops his pants enough to pull his cock out and presses his hand to my forehead as I try to see what he’s doing, alarmed. He forces my head back, my gaze on the rotting ceiling.
“Then tell Tommy where I am.” I whisper the words like a prayer.
He releases me, looks me in the eye, moving the crotch of my panties, hardened with blood, out of the way.
“No.” His eyes are flat. “We can’t go anywhere until you’re pregnant. Your ability to manipulate the choices of your father is the only reason you’re still alive. Your father wants you with me. He stopped laundering money for Aurelio when you started cheating on me with Tommy. Aurelio wants you to change his mind by proving that you are with me for good. By getting pregnant with my baby.”
He starts to touch me. My neck, my collarbone, his fingers trailing over my corset.
I arch my back, pushing my chest against his, my voice rising. “You can’t do this, Antonio.”
He gives a humorless laugh. “Why? Because you need to keep that pussy pristine for Tommy? You’re my fiancée. My fucking wife. Whether you like it or not, this is happening.”
“I’m going to marry Tommy,” I whisper. “I don’t love you.”
“I don’t fucking love you, either. But if you don’t get pregnant, you’ll die here. Is that clear enough?” His voice is panicked.
I feel exactly as he looks. There’s a good chance I can’t get pregnant. Tommy’s been fucking me for years without using a condom once, and I’ve never even had a pregnancy scare, much less the real thing.
But there’s something in Antonio, the way he’s touching me, looking at me, talking to me, that tells me I have a chance to get out of this without finding out.
“You don’t love me, Antonio? Because you sure look like you’re having feelings about losing me.”
His hand shoots to my throat, squeezing just enough to remind me who’s in charge. I spit in his face, and he gives me an evil smile.
“No wine glass nearby, huh?” His voice goes ugly, taunting. “But you like it rough, don’t you? All three holes at once—that’s what your boy told me, right? That night you sucked my dick while Tommy fucked you. I bet you like these ropes. Kinda your thing, right?”
He kneels between my legs, yanks off his dress shirt, revealing a tight white V neck tee underneath. When he falls back on top of me, the panic is gone, and so is any shred of the feeling I thought he might have for me. And my hope.
He holds his shirt over my mouth. “Bite me once and this goes into your mouth. Your boy may like it when you draw blood, but I don’t.”
I glare up at him over the fabric, trying to burn through his skull with my eyes, imagining tearing him apart piece by piece.
A knock sounds at the door and we both freeze, staring at each other. The nurse steps inside, avoiding eye contact. She says nothing and sets about rewrapping my ankle.
Antonio keeps his eyes on mine, but directs his words at the nurse. “She’s in pain.”
I narrow my eyes at him. I’m in some pain, but it’s mostly just being sore from being in the same position, not moving, not eating. Not sleeping. He glares at me, a warning not to speak.
The nurse slows her movements but keeps going, nodding slowly. “Yes. She needs pain management. But if she’s pregnant—”
“I’m not pregnant. And I don’t need—” I snap, and Antonio slaps his hand over my mouth with a glare.
“Give her something that’s safer for the baby. No opioids or benzos.” His voice softens as he moves his hand to my cheek. “Make it so she doesn’t have to feel…any of it.”
“Antonio, no.” I whisper, my voice shaking. “Just don’t do it. If you don’t want me to feel it, don’t do it. Please.”
The nurse comes to my side where I can see her, wiping my shoulder with an alcohol wipe. She gives me intense eye contact then, without moving her head, she glances at Antonio, who waits for her to administer the shot. “Just a little diphenydramine
He shuffles his hips against mine. His cock isn’t hard but he lines it up with my entrance. His hand drags up my body, yanking my corset down so that my tits are exposed. His voice drops to something that almost sounds human. He kisses me softly, and I don’t respond, the edges of my vision already beginning to blur, my body softening into the mattress.
“For what it’s worth,” he mutters, “this isn’t how I wanted this to happen.”
6
