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I must have fallen asleep. The water is now cold and the bubbles are long gone. I didn’t hear Elio enter the house. Having the music playing had me tuning out everything else.
“Stop,” I hiss, angry that he’s doing this to me and I was caught unawares in my sleep.
He cocks a brow at me. “You want me to stop?” he questions, his tone mocking. “Wasn’t it you who was moaning with every thrust of my finger?”
“Get off me,” I practically shout at him. I need him to stop. I’m too close to the edge to have him near me right now. I can’t deal with it. I don’t want to be used. I’m too fragile.
His chuckle is deep and throaty. “La mia bellissima moglie,” he snarls as he gets to his feet. “You know your body betrays you.”
I reach for the edge of the bath and pull myself up to standing. His eyes darken as they rake over my naked, wet body. “I was asleep,” I hiss. “God, Elio, do you have to be such an ass?”
He smirks. I’m not sure why I’m always surprised when he lets me down. I don’t know why I have such high hopes for him. Nothing ever works out that way. “Babe, you’re my wife. You’re mine to do whatever the fuck I want with. I told you when we set this in motion that you were mine.”
The coldness seeps back in once again, the feelings of despair and darkness simmering on the edge, ready to pull me under at any moment. I step out of the bath, turning my back on him and reaching for a towel to cover my body.
I hear the sharp intake of his breath, and I inwardly groan. He’s seen my scars. We’ve been married for five days, and he’s just noticed my scars. I shouldn’t be surprised. He doesn’t touch me. Hell, he doesn’t look at me whenever he fucks me. “What happened?” he growls.
“None of your business,” I snap as I wrap the towel around my body, covering the scars with the material.
“I asked you a question,” he sneers, reaching for my arm.
I dodge him and move quickly, running out of the room. I hear his footsteps behind me. My heart beats rapidly as I rush out of our bedroom and down the hall. There are enough rooms in this house that I’ll be able to hide and lock myself in one of them.
I hear his feet behind me, feel the heat of his breath against my neck, and the touch of his hands as they try to grab me. I quicken my pace, pushing harder to get away, my wet feet slippery against the wooden floor. I slide around but manage to keep my footing. The towel is ripped from my body, and within seconds he’s pushing me to the floor, his weight on me as I’m lying face down against the wooden floor. I struggle against him, trying to buck him off me, but it’s no use. He’s got a lot of muscle and he’s too heavy for me.
“You shouldn’t have run, Teagan,” he breathes, adjusting himself above me. I hear the sound of his belt buckle, and I still. Flashbacks of being in this position in the clubhouse hit me. I stay stock still as he lines himself up behind me, his hands on my hips.
He’s touching me. He’s actually touching me. The feel of his hands on me are unlike anything I’ve felt before. It’s as though he’s searing me. He drags me into the position he wants, my ass in the air, my legs parted.
“Look how fucking hard I am,” he grunts as he thrusts deep inside of me. “Keep running from me,” he says as he withdraws from me, his fingers digging into my waist. “I like it. I’ll chase you down each and every time,” he growls, slamming back into me.
My fingernails claw against the wooden floor, scratching it. Even as much as I hate Elio, I can’t help but enjoy what he does to me. While he treats me the way the Demons did, he hasn’t hurt me, and he gives me pleasure when I least expect it. Hell, before him, I had never felt what an orgasm was like. I’d never experienced one.
He rotates his hips, thrusting harder and harder into me. With every thrust, he’s stretching me, going deeper than before. This is different than the other times he’s fucked me. This is more intense.
I cry out as his fingers tighten on my hips, biting into the flesh. I can’t help it; I push back against him, grinding down on his cock.
“There we go,la mia bella puttanella. Fuck, such a good girl. Look at you go. Take it,la mia bella puttanella. Take it all.” His words of praise hit me hard, and my body trembles. I’m so close, I can feel the pleasure rising.
“Look at you,” he praises. “Look atla mia bella puttanella, taking my cock like you were made to.”
I gasp, unable to breathe right now. His thrusts are brutal. The sound of him pounding into me echoes around the hall.
“You’d do anything to bela mia bella puttanella, wouldn’t you?”
I don’t answer him. I can’t. I’m barely able to hold myself up. I’m so close to the edge.
“Come for me,la mia bella puttanella,” he growls. His next thrust is longer, harder, faster.
My orgasm shatters over me, and I cry out, but he doesn’t stop. In fact, he tightens his grip on me, no doubt leaving marks on my skin as he hammers into me over and over again. I’m shaking, my fingers clawing at the wooden floor as I see stars.
“That’s it,la mia bella puttanella,” he snarls. His cock pistons into me, and his hands move from my hips, sliding up my body. He wraps his fingers into my hair. “Such a good girl, taking everything I give you,” he praises.
His fingers clench in my hair as he rotates his hips and delivers thrust after brutal thrust. I’m breathless, utterly spent, but unable to do anything. I’m so confused. He’s calling me a whore but praising me at the same time. It should turn my stomach, make me want to run for the hills, but instead, I grind against him, wanting more, needing it.
He hits deep inside of me, and I cry out. He repeats it over and over again until my pleasure is rising again.
“No one else is allowed this pussy. It’s mine.”
