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He doesn’t answer right away, choosing instead to stare at me some more. I can’t get a read on him—his expression is impossible to understand. Finally, I can’t take the suspense anymore. “What is it? What do you want?”
His mouth tugs upward at the corner. “I was just thinking to myself. There you were, practically strutting into my study less than forty-eight hours ago, all commanding and full of confidence. I knew at the time it was an act, but to see the proof in front of me is something else. Look at you. Dejected, realizing you’re right back where you started.”
“That isn’t exactly why I was sitting here this way.” Though it was pretty damn close.
“I know it can’t be because you’re in love with me. That was just another one of your games, a way of using me. Isn’t that right?”
I’m not going to do this. I’m not going to let him twist me up. I’m practically biting my tongue against the litany of terrible, filthy things he needs to hear about himself, about his entire fucked-up family. He wants to hurt me. He wants me to break down. I will not give him that satisfaction.
And he knows it, and it’s driving him crazy. I can feel it, his frustration, practically reaching across the room to wrap itself around my throat the way he’s so often done with his hand.
Suddenly, he changes the subject. “I have something for you. A wedding gift.”
Immediately, instinct warns me against reacting. I’m not going to give him what he wants, dammit. He might have me trapped here, but I won’t play along. “I never imagined you would get me anything. I don’t have anything for you.”
“Remember, we’re going to take care of that in time.” Right, because all that matters is giving him a baby. “Besides, this is not a gift from me. It’s from my grandfather.”
As if I wasn’t already apprehensive. He crosses the room, and I hold my breath, bracing myself for what’s coming. He slides a hand inside his jacket, and a sickening chill settles over me.
Until he withdraws his hand and with it a slim, long, velvet box. He opens it and holds it out for me to examine a pair of bracelets. Diamond bracelets, and not just a single row of jewels, either. Both feature four rows of stones. I don’t need to ask if they’re real, and I wouldn’t insult him, anyway. I’ve already seen the house the old man lived in. I have no doubt he could afford this.
They’re overwhelming. Too fine to touch. They sparkle like they’re on fire, catching the light and throwing it back in a million little prisms. “I…”
“He wanted you to have them.”
“Sure, and that’s very sweet, but it doesn’t feel right. I don’t know if I can accept them.”
“Too fucking bad,” he snaps. “The man wanted you to have them. They’re a gift to my wife. Believe me, I would send them back otherwise, but it’s not my place to do that.”
He pulls the bracelets from the box, then tosses the box aside in favor of grabbing one of my wrists. As usual, I have no choice in this. I’m going to wear them whether I want to or not.
I look from my wrist up at him, and he happens to glance over and meet my gaze at that exact second. Something passes between us—I can read it on his face, the way his expression softens. For a moment, I have hope. There he is, the Enzo I thought I knew before. The one who said he loved me. The one who almost tenderly recited the marriage vows.
It must be an illusion, his softening because all I have to do is blink, and it’s gone. His eyes narrow, and at the last second, he turns the bracelet over so the diamonds are pressed against my skin rather than facing out. “What are you doing?” I ask, but my question is ignored. He’s too busy doing the same with my other wrist, and once he’s finished clasping the bracelet, he wraps his hands around them both and squeezes hard.
I can’t help it. I gasp, then grit my teeth against the pain. “You’re the reason he’s gone,” he mutters. “Yet here you are, wearing the jewels he bought for you. How does that make you feel? Are you proud of yourself?”
“You’ve made your point,” I whisper, shaking from the pain as the stones dig into my skin.
“No. I don’t think I have.” He holds both wrists in one hand and loosens his tie with the other, then lifts it over his head. I hardly have time to figure out what he’s doing before he drapes the loop around my wrists and cinches the tie tight.
“You don’t have to do this. Haven’t we gotten past this point by now?” My pleas fall on deaf ears. He’s too busy tying the other end of the striped silk to the headboard, leaving me sitting up partway with most of my body draped over the bed.
“You’re going to have to prove how committed you are to this plan.” He looms over me, holding my wrists even though the tie is already so tight. The tie isn’t enough to make the diamonds dig into my flesh, and that’s what he wants. To make sure I’m hurting as much as possible.
He squeezes tighter, and now I can’t blink back the tears that spring to my eyes. “I am!” I gasp.
“That’s not enough. Your words aren’t enough. You’ve already told so many lies.” He mutters to himself in Italian while lowering his zipper. “You’re going to have to show it through actions. What’s that saying? Actions speak louder than words?”
He’s already getting hard by the time he pulls himself free and traces my lips with the head of his cock. Of course, he’d get off on my pain. He’s a psychopath. “You’re going to suck me so good there won’t be any question of your commitment. Do you understand me?”
The very idea makes my blood curdle. Not sucking him off but doing what he wants. Giving in this easily. “Yes!” I gasp out when the stinging pain in my wrists becomes too much.
“I thought so.” He’s stiff by the time he surges forward, rolling his hips and entering my mouth. All I have to do is hold on until he’s finished, then he’ll leave me alone. It’s the only thought keeping me from gagging when he hits the back of my throat and groans like he’s satisfied.
“My wife. Always so eager to please me.” He lets out a bitter laugh before driving himself forward again, and again, holding the back of my head in one hand and my crossed wrists with the other. Using me, controlling me like he has from the beginning. “Use your tongue. Show me how much you crave my cum.”
Tears roll down my cheeks as pain and humiliation swirl together. I close my eyes, but he squeezes my wrists harder. “No. Look up at me. I want you to watch me while I fill your pretty mouth with my cum.” He wears a twisted sort of smile when I force my gaze upward to meet his.
