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“Wait for your wedding night,” Vicente drawled. “If you want her to give you an heir, make it official.”
“No,” this time, the refusal left me on a horrified moan. “I won’t marry you. I won’t. I love Adrián.”
“You love me from now on,” Hugo hissed. His hot tongue licked at the tear that trailed down my cheek.
I gagged against the bile that rose in the back of my throat.
“Let me go,” I demanded, desperate. “I want Adrián.”
“You’re not a little girl anymore,” Vicente told me, his tone heavy with vindictive satisfaction. “What you want doesn’t matter. You’ll obey your husband from now on.”
“He’s not my husband,” I shouted. I writhed in Hugo’s grip. His lascivious grin filled my vision, the reek of his sickly-sweet cologne invading my senses. His cock jerked against me.
“Adrián!” I screamed for him, a foolish, childish part of me believing he’d come racing into the bedroom to save me.
He had to come save me. He had to.
But that was a naive little girl’s fantasy. I was a woman now, and Hugo made sure to teach me what that meant.
The End
