“Please.” Even though the tears fell, I whimpered, not sure if I was stopping him or begging him not to stop. Another thrust of his finger and I inhaled sharply. My legs grew weak, and my hands trembled under his grasp as I started to welcome the blunt invasion. “Stop. This is not what I wanted.” The lie brushed past my lips, yet my hips rocked against his fingers, an action I had no control over.
“Don’t fight it. You want to come. I can already feel your walls pulsing around my finger, begging. Your pussy wants more. Give it what it wants,” he coaxed, sliding in another finger.
My eyes slid shut, a low groan escaping my lips. He was right, my body hung over the edge, begging to be tipped over, to be plunged into that deep chasm of greedy lust that only he could alight. And I fought it, stiffening my body, shaking my head from side to side. Flexing my arms to gain traction and loosen his grip. It was futile. Because for every denial I inflicted on my body, he punished it more. His movements sped up, creating burning chaos over my pussy, my hips bucked, my muscles spasmed.
As if knew I was fighting his manipulation, he snarled, “if you don’t come,bella, I’ll fuck you until you have to fucking crawl out of this room.”
His demand came a second before he pinched my clit, hard and like a well-aimed fireball, my orgasm crushed me, breaking my resistance and giving us what we wanted. Me, pleasure that pierced my fucking soul. And him, control over my fucking soul, once more. While I fought my internal torment for letting him have his way, I opened my eyes, meeting an arched brow and eyes glittering with amusement.
“Would you look at that? You came for a sick fuck like me.”
“Get the fuck off me.” I forced the words out through pursed lips, tears of defeat morphing with molten fury. More for myself for responding to his touch than him touching me. It conquered every other sensation that flooded through me. I started struggling, his weight like hardened concrete over my chest. With strength I didn’t even know I possessed, I ripped my hands from his grip, forced them between us, and pushed as hard as I could, rolling his body off mine. Breathing hard, I shot to my feet.
But once more Salvatore was much faster, his agility for his size was commendable, on another day. I tried to make a run for the door, but his arm banded around my stomach, flipping me away from him and over the desk behind us. My chest hitting the wooden top hard, knocking the wind out of me. Before I could sufficiently react, he pinned my hands above my head and pressed his chest to my back, his weight once more holding me prisoner.
“You’re mine,” he breathed into my ear.
“Fuck you!”
“My pleasure.” And before I could grasp his words, his lips brushed the skin at my neck, his teeth biting into the flesh. It should’ve hurt, instead, blatant lust sprinted down my spine, teasing my pussy muscles, tightening my nipples. “I didn’t want this,bella. I never wanted you.” He sucked harder at my neck, marking me.What did he mean by never wanting me?“You were nothing more than a deal I had no idea our fathers signed.” He kicked out my legs, widening me for his touch. His cock pressing into my ass. “Then I found out who you were, and I hated you, wanted to crush you beneath my touch. Let you fall hard for me. Then leave you, broken. Do you want to know why?” He slid my dress up over my ass and I squirmed. But my attention was focused on his words. “Because I hated your father. I was going to use you, ruin you in front of his eyes. Let him feel my pain. Let him beg for mercy while I made you suffer.” What pain had my father caused him?
In one quick slide, his cock plunged inside me, filling me to the hilt. I gasped with the intrusion. And while I fought the feeling that thick fullness triggered in my core, I couldn’t stop my pussy from throbbing or the undisguised lust shooting through my body. Especially when he began moving, deliriously slow thrusts meant to seduce and mindfuck. This wasn’t how Salvatore fucked. He didn’t do gentle. He subjugated with his cock. He fucked like he owned you. He marked you with his cum. And still, he’d leave you weak in the knees, wanting more.
“Then I saw you.” His tongue brushed the skin at my nape, adding to the torment in my pussy. “In my fucking living room, fighting your father yet denying your attraction to me. The second I looked into those sparkling green eyes, raw with innocence yet fiery with dormant rage, I knew you’d fucking mess with my head. Ruin me. Provoke the devil I’d worked so fucking hard to restrain.”
“So, what then?” I glared at him over my shoulder, not caring about the vengeance he sought over my father. “You send me to hell? Kill me slowly. Kill my fucking baby?” I spat. He stiffened and I realized he hadn’t known I was pregnant. “Yes Salvatore, I was fucking pregnant with Zayne’s baby, and thanks to you, my baby died before he had a chance to live.”
“I didn’t fucking kill your baby, little girl, you did,” he sneered, his hips began rocking into me again. Harder with each word, faster with each breath, determined with each stroke. To break me. “You gave away what belonged to me.” Thrust. “Took away my fucking right to your body.” Thrust. “And still I let you mess with my fucking head.” Thrust. “Never fucking trust someone that can make you lose control,bella.”
What did he mean? Did he not trust me? Or did I make him lose control? Then he was pounding into me. And my body came to life under his touch, remembering that I was still a woman—a broken one, but a woman nonetheless and Salvatore knew how to manipulate my emotions, how to make my pussy dance to the beat of his rhythm, how to sway my body into bending to his will. His grip tightening on my hip, nails biting into my skin. His cock taking command of my pussy, letting it know who was in charge, he fucked me harder than a hammer to steel.
And I surrendered. Tears caressed my cheeks as though comforting while the pleasure he imposed on me choked my resolve to stay strong, overpowering my fight one blazing thrust at a time. And I let him. Yet through it all, I remembered. Salvatore betrayed me.
As if he sensed my thoughts, he reached down and pressed a thumb to my clit. And I hurtled. My orgasm slicing right through me, ricocheting up my spine and crashing against every nerve until I uttered a sharp cry, my nails digging into the wood. A second later, a primal growl ripped from Salvatore’s throat in an echo that sounded like pain and pleasure fused. He stilled, and I felt his cock jerk inside me, filling me with his cum and with it, my anger returned.
Releasing his grip on my hands, he pulled out of me and stepped away. I didn’t immediately move, letting the rage be my guide to what came next. He didn’t care for me, he just wanted to control me. He sent me to perdition and called it a mistake. He killed my baby and blamed me. This wasn’t a lover or a husband. He was the devil, and we all know devils belong in hell. I planned to send him back.
Slowly, I straightened, my muscles complaining from the strain of being pinned down. Pulling my dress back over my thighs, I turned. Vincenzo was looking at me, studying me and I hoped he’d see the hatred in my eyes. Strangely, he didn’t even blink as he stared at me. Something dark flashed in his eyes, and for a moment, it terrified me. I was at a momentary loss, not sure what to expect or what he planned to do next.
He knew I’d be here. How? He made me pay for my father’s sins. Why? My insides coiled tight with the remnants of my orgasm and the panic his glare inflicted. Don’t let him I warned. You know what to do.
Then I saw it.
His gun. It lay on the table he’d just fuck me on. Without thinking, I grabbed it and aimed it at him. “Why punish me for whatever the fuck my father did to you?”
“Cassius is not your father.”
“What!” I blinked away my surprise. “Who is my father and why punish me?” I screamed.
“Be careful,bella, you’re losing it.” He took a step closer, and my fingers tightened on the barrel. “Don’t rush, little girl. Everything will be revealed to you when the time is right.”
“Fuck you, Salvatore. I hate you.” I hissed. “You stripped me of everything. My right to freedom, to love, to life.” Even as the words left my mouth, I silently blamed Zayne too. He was the reason I was here. He betrayed me and placed me in this situation. Both men did. “I was an innocent girl, with a love for blueberry cheesecake and life. Now I want only one thing. Blood.”
He didn’t move, merely stared at me. Then, his voice the quietest I’d ever heard, filled the space between us. “Those are not angry or sad tears,bella. You’re crying because you’re shocked by just how good I make you feel. So cut the bullshit because whether you like it or not, want it or not, I’m going to fuck you again and again until the only name you’re crying out, is mine. That you remember you’re mine.”
A caustic laugh tripped from my lips. Not because of incredulity at his words but because he was right. I enjoyed every minute the sick fuck touched me, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want more. That’s why I couldn’t allow it, allow him to control me. “You can’t own something you never had, Salvatore and no one, not even you can make anyone feel something that he hasn’t experienced. Sex and love are two distinctly different things.” My hand holding the gun dipped slightly.
“Think again,bella. I own you, always have and always will.” Still, that controlled voice persisted. It was more frightening than if he were shouting.
