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“I told you I don’t want to go out,” I yell after him. I’m so over him, pushing me around like a puppet.
He turns on his heels and is on me in seconds. My body is pinned on the bed by his large frame, and my hands are restrained above my head. I can’t move an inch, and the only freedom I have is to turn my head to the side.
“Tread carefully, Ella,” Gualtiero pushes out through clenched teeth.
He looks downright frightening, and my heart leaps into my throat.
“If I were you, I would think twice about pushing me. I had the day from hell and it’s not over yet.”
I swallow hard, fear creeping into every one of my cells at his threatening tone. If he’s trying to intimidate me, it’s bloody well working.
His gaze travels over my outstretched body. “On top of it, I haven’t had sex in what feels like forever, and I’m tired of walking around with blue balls, jerking off, and taking cold showers.”
One of his hands travels down the length of my body and comes to rest on my thigh. His fingers hitch up my dress as his breathing picks up and his eyes glaze over with pure lust.
Goosebumps scatter across my skin where his hand has been, and my pulse picks up speed, but it’s not from arousal.
“I’ve got a lot of built-up frustration,” he says as he licks along the sensitive side of my neck. It’s a move that has sent me wild in the past, but not today.
“I really, really need to fuck you.” His voice has gone hoarse, and his hard cock is digging into my stomach.
He moves his hips, rubbing himself against me, and my body shivers like a leaf in the wind.
He wouldn’t force himself on me, would he?
My heart is beating frantically, and I begin to perspire.
“Gualtiero,” I whisper in panic as I try to push against his hand holding mine down. “You promised…” His fingers graze the inside of my thighs, slowly traveling up.
“Gualtiero,” I try again, “You’ve taken my entire life from me. Don’t you dare take the only thing I have left. It’s for me to give,” I whisper, despair taking over. “And I’m sayingno.”
His face is on my neck, his chest heaving against mine. After a few more seconds, he lets go of me and gets off the bed, and I curl up into a ball, hugging my body protectively.
Without looking back, he walks to the door and calls over his shoulder, “Get dressed and meet me downstairs in ten minutes.”
Tense silence fills the car on the drive to Palermo. Gualtiero is brooding, and I keep my gaze fixed out the window in my best attempt to ignore him. When we arrive at the club, we enter through a side entrance with bodyguards surrounding us.
Gualtiero’s hand is gripping mine as he guides me through long corridors with rooms fanning off to one side. Offices and storage rooms, perhaps. The thumping sound of the music is steadily getting louder as we near the club area.
We enter through a large set of double doors, which are pushed open for us by two of the club’s security staff. Blasting music greets us as we walk into a huge, dimly lit space with blinding light effects. I’m glad I don’t suffer from epilepsy—the incessant flickering can’t be good for anyone.
I hate clubs. Rhia and I much prefer bars when we go out. This here is really not my scene.
There’s no doubt Gualtiero’s club is popular. Even mid-week it’s packed, and people are everywhere. How is this fun?
The crowd parts for us, just like I imagine the red sea did for Moses. People stare as we move through the large space toward a roped-off area and climb a set of wide stairs leading to the upper level.
It’s an open, horseshoe-shaped space with high handrails all around, looking down onto the gyrating masses on the dance floor. There are three bars evenly spaced apart and lots of low-slung sofas and chairs scattered everywhere.
Every seat is taken, and laughter fills the air. Scantily dressed girls sit on the laps of guys in suits, their heads close together so they can hear each other over the pounding music.
We keep on walking to another roped off area. There seem to be different levels of VIP access. The rope is immediately lifted as we approach. There are fewer people here, and it becomes easier to breathe.
Gualtiero finally lets go of my hand, kisses my temple, and speaks into my ear, “I have to take care of some business. I won’t be long. Enjoy yourself for a bit.”
With that, he walks off toward a group of men sitting off to one corner. They rise to their feet as soon as they see him. I turn away and walk to the handrail. Grabbing it, I take in the action below.
Great, he drags me here and then disappears.
