He began thrusting, a slow rhythm. As much as it hurt, I loved watching him in the mirror all feral for me, feeling him inside me while I was in my most vulnerable position, invading me with pain and pleasure, dominating me like no other.
“Good girl. You’re taking Daddy’s cock all nicely,” he said, his voice dark and strained, his breath loud in the room.
I screamed as he upped the pace. “Fuck, Daddy, I’ve never been stretched or filled like this before.”
“Yes, baby. Scream for me. Scream for your Daddy, you little slut.”
I cried out louder as he really moved now, fucking me hard, his perfect muscles and sinews tight. He looked so strong, so sexy when he fucked me, when he owned me like that.
With his fingers circling my clit and fluttering inside me, looking like a fucking sex god, his fucking hard cock taking my virgin ass, it was impossible not to lose control even with the pain. “Daddy, can I please come?”
He took his fingers out of me and spanked me. He wrapped my hair around his fist and gripped my hip, fucking me harder. “Not yet, naughty girl.”
“Please, Daddy,” I moaned, hating the void his fingers left in my pussy. “Please…ti prego.”
“Cazzo! You really are naughty. You know you drive me out of my fucking mind when you speak in Italian. Now, you’re fucking begging in Italian…”
I begged again, and he groaned a curse. My tight muscles burned and clenched around his swelling shaft, and I knew he was about to come. While I screamed my lungs out, his hips slammed against me, and with a roar and a rough thrust, the hot gushes of his seed filled my ass.
Panting, he crumbled on my back and rubbed his nose on my sweat. “God, that was good, baby. You’re so good for Daddy.” He rubbed his nose on my back again. “And I fucking love your smell.”
It suddenly hit me that the other cologne that always filled this room was Arminio’s. As if Dom was searching for that one scent that would rise above it, overpower it and finally replace it. “Does it make you forget?” I dared ask.
His head lifted in a jerk, and he stared at me, as if asking how I could have understood. Then his face softened as he seemed to realize the two of us were so much alike. I understood him, his needs, his urges, his scars and pain as much as he understood mine. “Yes, baby.”
Pride and satisfaction took over me. I was happy I was the one—the only one—who got to do that for him. More confirmation that we were made for each other. All our pain wasn’t for nothing. It was preparing us for this intimate connection that wouldn’t have happened any other way.
Still inside my ass, he cupped my pussy. “Now you can come, baby girl. You earned it.”
His fingers didn’t take long before it sent me to the edge. I screamed hard, coming all over Daddy’s hand.
CHAPTER 41
Nicky
“I know I owe you an apology, but don’t push it,Angel,” I said over the phone, heading down for the basement. It was very late, and I couldn’t sleep, especially when Dom wasn’t in bed. So I went looking for him, calling my sister on the way because it was the only time I could get a hold of her due to the time difference.
I did owe her and myself an apology. I was sorry for not seeing beyond black and white, for stereotyping Dom, for not opening my mind and my heart when I should have, for putting my sister through a lot of trouble because of my stubbornness and pride, for wasting my time in denial, prejudice and loathing, dwelling in the past instead of living my life, for hating Dom before I truly saw him.
He always said I gave myself to him when I gave him my real tears, when I showed him my pain and how deep it hurt instead of hiding it. And he was right. Knowing our damage never really left us, Dom had owned my destruction before my salvation. The scars could be concealed, but underneath the surface the roots of our darkness, sickness and ruin ran too deep. They wouldn’t die or even wilt no matter how fucking hard we tried.
He’d broken me in the best way ever. Shattered me to pieces only to put me back together. He did swallow me whole but only to fill the void with his pieces that fit perfectly with me.
My sister, Dom and even Tino were right. My husband and I were meant for each other, and we were the only people who could heal each other and make each other happy.
My sister laughed over Nick’s crying symphony. “Oh, I’ll push it so hard. And when your honeymoon is over, and you come visit, I’ll sayI told you fucking soto your face countless times.”
“Well, I’ll fucking take it, but just because I really miss you and Nick and can’t wait for the Leo situation to be over so I could see you again.”
“We miss you, too, Sis. You still haven’t answered me, though, and no, I won’t give it up. Please tell me the happiness you feel now has made you forgive Tino or, at least, stop hating him?”
That was a question I saw in Dom’s eyes, too. The hatred that owned me before and controlled me so hard he wanted me to channel it through him. He didn’t care if I gave him all my hate instead of the love and understanding he was looking for as long as he rid me of the power my hate for Tino had over me.
But how could I stop hating the man who threatened to kill me, let alone forgive him? The man who used everything and everyone to do what was best for him and only him?
I might have understood my sister’s love for him, but his love for her… That was beyond my comprehension and tolerance. Tino was a sick man. Period. He wasn’t altered by trauma or suffering like Dom. He was born that way. Pure evil. It was hard for me to believe a monster like him was even capable of love.
But he loved you and Lina enough to kill for you, to save you.
