“Where am I hurting you?”
“Um...” I blushed. “My ass.”
For just a moment his hand stilled, and air rushed out of my chest in a grateful exhale. But instead of moving back, he leaned into me, both hands resting on my hips, his body pushing me tighter against the counter. I whimpered, not from pain but the sheer hardness of his tall frame. Every inch of him was solid muscle, even the steel rod behind the sweats. My breath caught in my throat refusing to leave my body and forcing me to swallow.
“If you’re looking for remorse,bella, I suggest you give up, now.” He gripped my bottom lip between his teeth and bit down. My eyes watered from the sting, and I squirmed. He let go, his eyes never leaving mine. “Luis’ death had no impact on me, what makes you think me whipping your ass, would?”
I lowered my gaze, shielding the hurt from him. If I didn’t conform to his threats, there was no telling what other punishment awaited me. He brought a hand up, trailing a lazy finger along the line of my jaw from one end to the other. His touch, amazingly gentle to his hard demeanor and crass words. I worked hard to control the silent tremors shuddering through me, once more hating what he was doing to my body, more so my reaction to his manipulation. Then he brushed his lips over mine, so light, I thought I’d imagined it except for the goosebumps erupting over my skin. I frowned, wondering why he’d done that.
He cocked his head to the side, leaning closer, his lips against the shell of my ear, his breath a warm breeze over my skin. “Like you said. The devil is cold, correct? I feel nothing?”
I swallowed, searching my mind for the right words that would stop his touch and the havoc down south. Jerking my head back, I steadied my breathing. “Correct,” I croaked. Okay, that wasn’t it.
“Yet,youfeel me, don’t you?” He ran his finger down my neck, swirling lazy circles over my skin. “You like what I do to you, my insolent littlebellezza.”
“You wish,” I mumbled, trying to ignore his finger and focus on something else. “And stop calling me beauty, beautiful, or whatever.”
“Beauty and the devil, appropriate, yes?” His finger dropped lower rolling over my nipple which had embarrassingly hardened. He tugged at the towel and when it dropped open to reveal my naked body beneath, I resisted the urge to lift my hands and cover myself.
“Don’t,” the word slipped out.
Instead of the anger I expected, he slid a finger under my chin and lifted it until my gaze met his. His head cocked, those ashen spheres studied every contour of my face. In a desperate attempt to avoid his entrancing stare, I dropped my gaze to his chin until he spoke and I looked up again. “You’re mine to touch, mine to ruin, mine to fuck. Don’t fight me, girl.” His eyes flashed with something primal, a raw heat. “I will fuck this sweet body into submission whether you like it or not.”
His words should’ve instilled fear in me, it didn’t. Admittedly the darkness cloaking this man, held a certain appeal, an intimidating mix of desire and danger, the circumstances of which could either be cataclysmic or mind-blowing. His hand dropped from my chin to my breast. He palmed the soft flesh, squeezing lightly.
A soft whimper of air rushed from my lips, and I closed my eyes. My breathing labored and grew heavier as his thumb rolled over the nipple tingling under his touch. When he leaned down and sucked the hardened bud into his mouth, I bit my lip to keep from crying out. My heartbeat quickened, his expensive cologne filling my nostrils, seducing my senses. He sucked harder and I clenched my fists to keep from gripping his thick, dark hair. In a deceitful taunt, my pussy muscles spasmed, clearly aroused by the slow torture he was inflicting on my body. His hand lowered, cupping my mound before he pushed a finger inside me.
Gripping the edge of the counter, I gasped both from the intrusion and the unexpected sensation rippling through me. He bit down on my nipple, and I cried out. His thumb grazed my clit and I shuddered, electric shocks nipping at the swollen bundle of nerves.
I needed to say something to distract him, to get those hands off my body. Not for the fear of how far he’d take this but that I might let him. Whether I admitted it or not, my body was reacting to his touch and I hated it, hated more that I liked it. “I can’t marry you,” I murmured.
His movements stilled before he released my breast and straightened. “Why do you say that like you have a choice?”
I tried not to look at those pink lips, moist from what he’d been doing to my breast. “You’re almost twice my age, surely you have other more mature women to suit your needs.” Shit! I silently reproached my runaway mouth, but I needed to get him away from me. Maybe attacking his age wasn’t the right avenue. Still, at thirty-five, the man had almost seventeen years on me, surely I wasn’t wrong in my assumptions. He looked like he needed an experienced woman to cater to his needs and I didn’t want to know what deranged pleasures he was into—my ass-whipping was already an indication. Under Zayne’s tutelage, I was still discovering pleasure points I didn’t even know existed in a woman’s body. What would I learn with this dictator?
He stepped back, releasing me and I held my breath unsure what to expect. His gaze roamed my face for a second before he walked off. Blowing out a relieved raspberry, I turned to watch his stiff gait head for the door, sure I’d angered him. Then he stopped at the threshold. I froze. He glanced over his shoulder. “Age is simply the number of years women have enjoyed me. Wait untilyoufeel my cock between your legs, little girl. I give a whole new meaning to the word experienced and I’ll be sure to remind you about that when you’re screaming my name.”
I was still swallowing when he walked out, the threat of his promise still ringing in my ears. My eyes glued to the door leading out of the kitchen, I ran a slow hand through my hair. Surely, he wouldn’t force himself on me if I refused to have sex with him. My laugh was low. Who was I kidding? The man clearly was the type to do as he pleased. He hadn’t given any thought to belting me, why would he think twice about...raping me?
Trying to wipe the notion from my head, I reached for the robe Rosana had left me and slipped it on then picked up my sandwich. Only, Mr. Salvatore had walked out with my appetite. I covered the sandwich with saran wrap, popped it in the fridge and went back to my room. Chances my stomach would be grumbling the rest of the night were high.
