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I drop my napkin on the table. I know I should exit myself from this scene, but there’s a part of me that wants a scrape of information to help me understand the level of sociopath I’m dealing with here. “It must be tough,” I chuckle again, then drag my seat closer to him.
He seems lost inside his head. Blank eyes, seething breath, his jaw sharp from his teeth clenching. It’s not like I care for him, but I can understand him a bit and I want to understand him more so I can find out how that links to me and why he might want to kill me.
“Benedetto, are…”
“Drop it, Rosaline.” The tightness is back.
I should take his ice-cutting tone as my cue to leave but instead, I continue to poke the wolf.
“Is that why you left for New York City?”
“I said drop it,” his hands on the table ball into fists.
“Why bring me back here if it means subjecting yourself to your pas….” The word past doesn’t have a landing on my tongue because he moves in a flash, one hand around my neck, and hauls me to my feet, his leg kicking my seat out of the way as he drives me backward till my back hits the window pane.
“Do you have a death wish Rosaline, or should I call you slut?”. His brown eyes pierce through me savagely and his teeth grind loudly, “After what you did to my cousin in New York with your deranged lover, slut it is.”
“Benedetto,” I struggle gasp his chokehold, struggling for words to make it to my lips as he starts to lift me off the floor with his hand around my neck.
“I said drop it, did I not?” Another hard slam, but this time with his taut body pressing against mine like he wants to melt me into the window pane.
If he keeps up, I'll pass out from lack of oxygen. I'm already feeling nauseous and might throw up as it stands. The walls ofmy stomach are jamming in sync with the berserk beating of my heart and I am slowly lacking oxygen flowing into my lungs.
“Be…” I fumble to grip his shirt around his shoulder blades for balance, scraping and scratching for dear life as my vision blurs.
“You will keep your slutty mouth shut when you are asked to,” his free hand travels to my back and he traces a finger between the opening from my half-zipped dress, “When I say drop it, you do just fucking that,” he yanks one side of the zipper and the fabric rents to the edge of my butt.
“Please…” I spit out.
“Be a good slut and fall in line,” he grinds himself against me and I feel the bulge of his erection hard pressed on my belly button. “Do what you are asked to do.”
I didn't notice his finger is underneath my dress until I feel his thumb press firmly on my nipple.
“Soft,” he cups my breasts and palms it.
“Tender,” he kneads. “Don’t test me, Rosaline,” he moves his mouth to my ear and takes my earlobe between his teeth. “Is that clear?”
He is now circling his thumb against my nipple.
“Answer me, slut”. He slams me against the pane but eases his grip so I can suck in some much-needed air.
I nod, whimpering. “Did the cat get your tongue?” Another finger joins his thumb and he pinches my nipple hard, at the same time biting my earlobe.
“Yes,” I shriek out, propelled by the intense sting from his pinch and bite.
“More like it,” he lets go of my neck, moving away from me and I drop to the floor, staggering forward but quickly scrambling farther away from him.
“Come,” he snaps his fingers but I shake my head dismissively as tears sprint to my eyes, “I said do as you are fucking told,” he grits and I walk gingerly to him, keeping my eyes down.
I sniff back my tears as I stop in front of him.
“How can we fix this?” his hands grip my waist and push me forward to press against him, “How do we fix this awakening?” he slides them up so his thumbs are under my dress pushing up my breast, “Because this is a new problem for us,” his thumbs find my nipples and he begins to stroke.
I'm visibly trembling. Hiccupping and sobbing as I feel my tears trace down my cheeks no matter how hard I try to hold them back in. I feel debased.
“This will be hard to stop now,” he presses firmly on my nipples and circles them, “So fucking hard to stop, slutty Rosaline.” He retrieves his hands.
I don't wait for him to say or do anything next, I run up the stairs, taking them two at a time without thinking about what just happened and what it means until I get to the third floor, find the door to my room, burst in and slam it behind me to rest my back on it, then slide down to the floor in a sobbing curl. I lift my hand around my neck, stroking the aching spot tenderly and gulping air into my lungs.
