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He would have preferred if I was a good little obedient girl—he wouldn’t have had to use what he does best if I hadn’t kicked up a fuss. But now I have, and he’s making me fall in line a different way.
I know this. I know it’s only more manipulation, more heartache, more torture. But in this moment, I’ll endure just about anything so long as he doesn’t stop until—
I come without warning, screaming so much I’m certain we’ll be caught. My orgasm is nothing like what I can do to myself with my hands in the shower. It’s an out-of-body experience, closer to worship, inches away from divine.
Something people die for.
Something they’d kill for.
Even as I come around his cock, Alessandro keeps fucking me, hard, fast, wild, panting like he, too, can’t possibly get enough.
His cock tightens in me seconds before he floods my insides with sticky warmth, and falls on top of me, his nose close to my neck.
An idiot looking in would believe we were lovers.
At least if they didn’t hear his next words.
“You can be my wife, or you can be my whore. Those are the two choices open to you. Either way, you’ll end up with my cum filling you up every day.”
ELEVEN
Ivy
Now
I sleep like a log, passing out so completely I don’t even dream. When I wake up, it’s daylight, which is a bonus, because one flick of my bedside lamp shows the electricity’s still off.
Shit. The stove’s electric, and there aren’t many things we can eat left after we had the pizzas. Everything else needs to be cooked.
At least our parents are coming today, along with supply deliveries.
When I get up, I immediately notice the chill in the air. Maybe the heating’s on some sort of timer, going down at night—I set mine up like that in my flat because it’s better for the environment, my electricity bill, and the winters aren’t ever this chilly in London.
I would never have opted to do so here in the mountains, at something like minus ten degrees Celsius—which doesn’t sound as bad as it actually is. Given the altitude, it feels a lot colder.
I bring my arms around myself, shivering as I quickly get dressed.
Maybe I missed the idea of winter a lot more than the actual experience. Like frostbite.
Thankfully, as I make my way downstairs, delicious warmth floods me.
Bella’s already up, and she started a fire. Better yet: she’s smart enough to be holding a pan of hot water over it.
“No heat?” I check.
She shakes her head. “I tried to turn it on. Didn’t work.”
“It’s cold as a witch’s tit over here!” I say, bringing my hand to the exposed flame, and shivering of pleasure.
“Yeah, for now.” She tips her chin to the pile of wood we have, much smaller than it was yesterday night.
Shit.
“We don’t have spare wood?”
Bella shakes her head. “I looked in the shed and brought the handful of logs we had there. If the boiler doesn’t kick in, we’re in deep shit.”
She doesn’t sound very panicked, despite her alarming words.
