My hands move lower, my only goal to give him the same pleasure he's given me countless times. I may not know what to do, but I'm sure I can manage something. My fingers graze over the zipper of his pants, his hardness unmistakable. I undo the fastening and close my hand around him.
A gasp escapes me as I try to wrap my fingers around him, surprised at the size and texture—hot velvet pulsing against my palm. I stroke him lightly, watching his face for any cues.
"Let me make you feel good, Enzo," I whisper, our faces close together, our breath mingling. But as the words flow out of my mouth, his eyes widen—the first visible reaction. His entire body tenses under me, freezing for a second.
I frown, afraid I've done something wrong.
Out of nowhere, his hand shoots out, his fingers wrapping around my throat and stopping my airflow. One moment I was in his lap, the next I'm against the wall, my feet slightly above the ground. Tears gather at the corners of my eyes as I fling my hands around, trying to get him off me.
His mouth curls at the corners in a sadistic way.
This isn't Enzo… This can't be the same Enzo!
"Allegra, Allegra," he tsks, but his hold on me loosens enough that I can breathe properly. "I really thought you'd be different."
"What do you mean?" I rasp, and a cruel smile stretches across his face.
"You're really pathetic, aren't you?" he muses, studying me with disgust. "I wondered how long you'd last. How long until you'd open your sanctimonious little legs for me. But I didn't realize that all it took was atinybit of attention."
"Enzo, this isn't funny," I say, my lips trembling. But even as I hope it's all just a bad joke, his face tells me it's not.
And it's killing me inside.
"You're so eager to jump on my cock that it's not even fun anymore," he continues to mock me, bringing one finger to caress my cheek. "I hadn't realized you'd be this easy. Did you really think I'd be interested in you?" He raises an eyebrow at me, but I don't reply. The more he talks, the more I struggle to keep my composure, to not burst into tears and give him the satisfaction of seeing me hurt. Because that's exactly what he's trying to do.
"Did you really think I'd be interested in a poor village girl who's been nothing but a source of embarrassment?" I shake my head at him, my fingers wrapping around his hand and trying to disentangle it from my neck.
I can't listen to this…
"Tell me,wife,have you looked in a mirror? You know, that reflective glass that shows you what you look like," his smile widens, knowing he's hit the mark with one of my insecurities.
"Yes, and I happen to like what I see," I reply, attempting to hold in all the hurt I'm feeling. I won't let him win.
He laughs, his whole body shaking with nonexistent hilarity.
"You must be the only one," he continues, twisting the knife in my heart. I blink twice, the tears almost forcing their way out.
"I have to say, it was fun while it lasted, but I can't muster the interest anymore. Maybe if you had kept your legs closed a little longer…" he trails off, his hand skimming the inside of my thigh.
I shove at him, kicking and punching, until his hand disappears from my throat.
I collapse to the floor, my breath ragged, my heart in pieces.
Looking up at him through misted lashes, I see only a smug man gloating at making a fool of the peasant girl.
"I'll even let you in on something," he kneels in front of me, his finger pushing my jaw up so I'm looking at him. "I won myself a brand-new yacht with your easy surrender. Why do you think I was so nice to you?" he chuckles softly. "You thought a woman like you would be able to hold my interest?"
Amused, he shakes his head, getting up and heading for the door.
"On the bright side, I can stop pretending now and go back to my regular fucks, since," he looks down at me in distaste, "you're not even worth a pity fuck."
He leaves the room at some point. I remain in the same position, staring at the now-closed door.
What happened?
Even as I try to rationalize everything, there is only one answer.
He played me.
