AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Go on,” he bites out, sinking inch by inch into my dark hole. “Play with your clit.”
The words barely register. I don’t know how I even understand, how I manage to touch myself as he increases his pace. It doesn’t hurt less. It hurts differently. Darker. More desperately.
“Please,” I say, the breath leaving my lungs with every slap of his groin against my ass.
“Say it, Sabella.”
I can’t. Even if it means he won’t let me come. Never.
I’m close. He pushes my hand away, massaging my clit as he pumps harder. Sweet release coils through my lower body. My inner muscles clench so hard they suck him deeper, breaking his rhythm. He utters a curse and lets loose. I come with a cry as he grunts out his climax and spills his release inside me.
It’s different.
I’m not sure what changed or why. All I know is that I’m boneless. Spent.
He pulls out and spreads my ass cheeks, always liking to watch. I turn my face to look at him, smiling internally at his animalistic behavior. He’s such a pervert. Such a beast. And I let him watch, giving him a show, because I love it.
He adjusts his clothes and bends over me, covering my back with his chest. He’s still wearing his jacket. He hasn’t even taken it off. Gathering me in his arms, he carries me to the shower. He lets the water run warm while he undresses. Like the first time, he washes me, and I soak it up because I need this care.
When we’re clean, he wraps me up in a towel and drapes one around his waist. He handles me as if I’m made of glass, kissing my lips and my collarbone as he towels me dry before putting me to bed. I’m already dozing off when he slips under the covers next to me. The last thing I register before a deep, dreamless sleep claims me is how safe I feel in his arms.
Chapter
Twenty
Angelo
* * *
Sunlight already streams through a gap between the curtains when I wake up. I squint. Doesn’t housekeeping close the fucking curtains when they turn down the bed at night? Then I remember Sabella drawing them open to look down at the street.
Sabella.
Her body is supple and warm in my arms, her back pressed against my chest. And I don’t want to move. I want to stay like this until she wakes up and then some more. I’m well aware that I’m breaking another promise I made myself. I keep on breaking rules and promises when I’m with her. I keep on disappointing myself, proving how weak my will is, because that’s what she does to me.
If I’d met her as a random person and not my destined wife, would I have felt the same about her? I can’t be certain. I only know possessiveness and obsession tormented me from the moment I laid my eyes on her. I’ve been true to her since my father announced she was my betrothed. I was only fourteen years old. I’ve never looked at another woman, even when Sabella was nothing but a concept in my mind and a promise to be fulfilled in the distant future.
But from the moment I saw her, I wanted her. I desired her when I shouldn’t have, when she wasn’t a day older than sixteen. I waited for her, counting the days until she turned eighteen. And when I finally took her, I knew I’d never get enough. I waited another year to put a ring on her finger, which, looking back, felt like the longest year of my life. And now she’s here, in my arms, the woman who’s plotting my downfall.
The woman who’s destined to destroy me.
As always, it’s a bitter pill to swallow. I can eliminate Lavigne and remove the threat—and in good time, I will—but there will always be another Lavigne, someone else in the force willing to make a deal.
I’m bone-fucking-tired. I’m tired of fighting and pushing and keeping her at a distance. I’m tired of being on my guard twenty-four-seven, making damn sure I don’t arm her with the ammunition she needs. This business of watching and waiting for the moment she betrays me again is exhausting. I don’t think I’ve ever been this worn out, not even when I took over my father’s business and worked eighteen-hour days.
I think about last night, about who my wife met and who she spoke to. This is legit business. The people who were invited aren’t criminals like me. There wasn’t anything to hide from her, which is the only reason I brought her. Her choices are placing enormous limitations on our life. I can’t take her anywhere without analyzing every minute detail of the event—who will be there, who they’re connected to, and how she may use what they say. I can’t let her live under my roof.
And now there’s Sophie. Fuck. As well as the other children. Sophie will be devastated that Sabella can’t live with us. My niece feels safe with Sabella. She likes her. They made a connection. I can’t deny that Sabella is good with her. Pride warms my chest. My wife will make an excellent mother. That, in itself, is the biggest fucking problem of all, because when there are children, I’ll have to separate them from their mother.
The thought physically hurts. I have good memories of my mother taking care of us. Those times were special, even if I didn’t tell her and show her enough gratitude. My children won’t make the same memories with their mother. Their mother will always be banished, living in a house at the far end of the property, and they will live in their rightful place with me.
It’s not ideal. It’s not conducive for a healthy childhood, but she doesn’t leave me a choice. During the week, they’ll be under my care. I’ll make sure they’re properly educated and that their every need is met. We’ll live like a divorced couple with Sabella getting the weekend visitation rights. Even then, I’ll have to be careful, making sure she doesn’t get information on me via the children. Because if there’s one thing I’ll never allow, it’s letting her run to freedom and taking any child of mine away from me.
The fucked-up situation weighs down on me. The complications keep on piling up. I’m worried that the whole house of cards is going to come tumbling down. Sometimes, I feel that a pending doom is hanging over our heads, the cloud ready to burst and shower us in a shitstorm. The darkness keeps creeping up, blackening the edges of the picture of our future in my head. I can’t shake this premonition that it’s all going to fall to pieces, that it’s not a bullet that’s going to slay me but my weakness for Sabella.
Sabella stirs, sighing softly in her sleep.
Even with the thoughts milling in my head, I tighten my arms around her. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Making her kneel started out as a way of humiliating her. A punishment. Last night, I turned it into something different. I turned it into a game of submission and domination. I get off on it. I get off on the control but also on taking care of her.
