10. Stella
10
STELLA
A nna shifts nervously behind me on the glass balcony. “I really don’t think Mr. De Tore will be happy about this…”
Irritation simmers in my chest, and I walk to the transparent railing, cradling the clothes that were dumped on the sofa while I was sleeping. Expensive designer brands in varying sizes, as if the things I brought weren’t good enough for my new husband.
Anna tries again. “I-if you don’t like the clothes, we can get you new ones. Copley Place is only a couple blocks away.”
I ignore her, too tangled up in my thoughts of the past twenty-four hours.
Never mind the fact that after my drunken mishap, I woke alone. There truly is nothing in the world that makes you feel more inferior than that, except maybe the silent suggestion that your wardrobe needs upgrading.
My hands shake with an unmitigated amount of angry energy, and I try balling them into fists and taking deep breaths, but the emotion accumulates anyway.
I didn’t ask for any of this. All I wanted was to get away from this life, not dig my grave deeper into it.
A strangled, frustrated noise tears out of me, and my body jerks almost reflexively, sending the stack of clothes over the balcony to the ground below. I lean over, ignoring the tears stinging my eyes as each item floats down to the sidewalk, occasionally getting caught on another level, until I can no longer see them at all.
It doesn’t change anything, but the defiance makes me feel better nonetheless.
The door behind me slides open, and I assume Anna’s going inside to tell Irene about my behavior. A part of me feels bad because I’m sure one of them—or both, perhaps—will be blamed for my actions, but at the moment, I can’t bring myself to care.
Anna would be more than happy to swap places with me, so I’m sure this doesn’t make any sense to her. Irene, on the other hand, seems to understand my plight on some level, and I wonder if that’s because she’s been in a similar situation before or if she’s just wiser than her colleague.
Either way, it doesn’t matter. Her understanding won’t grant me freedom.
“You know…” A smooth, dark voice comes from directly over my shoulder. “Littering is bad for the environment.”
I jump at the sound, immediately whirling to face the intruder. Before I can fully turn though, he rushes up and plasters himself to me, trapping me. He grips the rail with both gloved hands, holding tight.
His hips crush mine to the glass barrier, and a startled gasp expels from my lungs with the impact. “I’d have expected a future scientist like you to know that.”
The teasing makes me see red.
“ Jesus Christ ,” I swear, struggling against his hold. “Let go of me.”
“This is not the warm welcome a husband anticipates after being away from his wife all day.” Leo chuckles, his mouth close to my ear. “And I thought good little Catholic girls weren’t supposed to take their Lord’s name in vain.”
“I guess I’m not a good little Catholic girl then, am I?”
“Mmm. That’s exactly what I’m hoping for.” His moan caresses my cheek, and even as I continue jerking against him, trying to maneuver myself free, I can’t deny that the sound stokes a fire low— very low —in my stomach. “Although your recent charitable contribution to the streets of Boston cannot be denied. Do you have any idea how much those clothes were worth?”
I attempt a shrug, but it catches on his body. “So go fetch them.”
One hand retreats from my view, and in the next second, he shoves his gloved fingers through my hair, forcing my head to angle downward. An endless stream of windows marks the entire side of the skyscraper—some lights on, some not. I wonder how far up you can see—if any residents in the building might witness the battle for my freedom.
“Is it that easy?” he whispers, lips pressing directly to my ear now. I bite the tip of my tongue to suppress a shiver. “You throw something, and I’m to retrieve it like some dog?”
Stop pouring kerosene on this fire. Don’t answer him.
I do anyway. “They say it’s never too late to learn new tricks.”
“I’ll need a good leash. Something metal that I won’t be able to chew through. Maybe a muzzle, too. I’ve been known to bite when a pussy gets close.” He shifts, and I feel all of him pressing against my bottom while his words echo between my legs. “Normally, I’d drag your wicked little ass inside for privacy’s sake; however, I relish the idea of Boston watching me lay claim to my wife for the first time.”
Fear courses through my veins, pumping wildly. At least, I think it’s fear. “Far be it from me to shatter the fantasy.”
Cool air strikes the backs of my thighs as he begins slowly dragging my skirt up. My elbows hang on top of the rail, and I can’t move otherwise with how he’s leaning, so I just hiss as more of me becomes exposed.
“What’s your fantasy, stellina ? How do you want this to go down?”
“I don’t have one.”
“Everyone has fantasies. Even sweet virgins like yourself.” A pause, and I feel leather scrape against me, sliding inward and upward. One sweep over my panties makes my knees tremble. “What is it you get off to?”
Gritting my teeth, I shake my head. “That’s none of your business.”
“No?” While he continues exploring, his other hand glides up my throat, collaring me. “Whose business would it be, aside from your husband’s?”
I don’t respond. Already, I’m starting to recognize this little game he wants to play—cat and mouse—where he wins every time.
Well, almost every time.
“Fine. If you don’t want to share with the class, I’ll just use my own.”
“Your own what?—”
Pressure blossoms on my pussy as he curls his fingers under me from the back, swirling lightly. I suck in a gasp of air, the sudden friction making me dizzy. Aside from outside the church yesterday, no one’s ever touched me there before; my stolen groping sessions in the Fontbonne Academy bathrooms and the confessional at confirmation were strictly above the waist, because the older girls said it wasn’t a sin if you did it that way.
But this feels like sin. Delicious, deadly sin. The kind that gets you kicked out of heaven for good.
His hand leaves my throat to thread in my hair, and he buries his nose in my scalp, inhaling deeply. “God, your hair is fucking magical. I wish I knew why I want it wrapped around my dick so badly.”
My eyes widen, and for a second, I’m afraid he’ll do just that. I cringe, imagining the mess, but then another image takes over—his complete and utter desperation, driving him to such miserable heights that he finds arousal from my hair alone.
Neither of my sisters can say they’ve driven a man that mad before. Just me, the boring one.
It fills me with a surge of pleasure, but then Leo’s speaking again, strumming that thread and making it coil tighter within me.
“We can save the depravity for later, I suppose. My cum in your hair might not be the best decision right now, so I’m just going to finger fuck you right out here. You’re going to ride my hand to oblivion, and you’re going to come all fucking over me. All over me, got it? I want to be dripping wet. I want to smell you before I taste you, and then I’m gonna get on my knees and eat your pussy until you forget your name.”
I feel leather on my bare flesh, parting me and finding that sensitive spot again. He rubs slowly, breathing in tandem with me as I try to steady myself. Each stroke feels better than the last, like he’s learning how to play my body.
People could be watching right now from the comfort of their residences across the street or maybe even from the sidewalk down below. We’d never be able to know for sure, and for some reason, that implication is alluring.
I shift, falling into the moment a little more as he continues to tease euphoria from me.
“How’s that?” he whispers, gently biting my earlobe. “Feels good, doesn’t it? My hands on you after leaving you needy all day? Don’t you wish I’d taken advantage of your state last night and not waited to satisfy you?”
My mouth dries up as tension coils in my gut. “Take them off.”
“Take what off?”
“T—” I swallow again, my brain short-circuiting as he pauses and starts moving in the opposite direction. A little pressure to the right, and my toes curl inside my shoes. “The gloves. I—I want to feel you on me.”
He freezes, and I sense a shift in the air around us. His hand retreats from my clit, quickly removing itself from my body, and the one in my hair follows a second later. Deflated, I adjust my clothes and spin around to face him as he moves back, putting a considerable amount of distance between us.
What the hell just happened?
One minute, he’s hot, dragging me to the edge of oblivion, and the next, he’s leaving me out to dry with no satisfaction.
Shame bubbles up in my chest at the sudden unexplained rejection, even though I shouldn’t care. If anything, I should be glad he stopped. The less he touches me, the more capable I am of keeping my wits about me.
Clearly, I need them.
“You should go inside.” His throat bobs on a swallow, and he shoves his hands in his pants pockets. “It’s late, and you’ll catch a cold out here.”
Confusion pulls at my nerve endings. My eyes slowly drag down his form, noting the torn suit jacket and the red splashed across the chest of his shirt, stretching into a splatter on the side of his neck and beneath his chin.
“Is that blood?” I ask, my hands moving of their own accord, seeking a solution of some sort. Immediately, the desire to correct and erase fills me, and I step toward him, wondering what’s going on.
“Don’t worry.” His lips twitch. “It isn’t mine.”
With that, Leo turns on his heel and makes his way back inside. Anger boils in my veins, hot like a volcano on the verge of eruption. Before I can think better of it and stop myself, I chase after him.
He goes to the kitchen and pours himself some scotch, and I watch him pop a little white pill from an orange prescription bottle. As I stalk toward him, he turns and leans against the white cabinetry, sipping slowly. His eyes don’t leave mine as I approach, fueling something strange inside me.
My whole life has been so focused on getting away that I haven’t spent much time looking within, figuring out what I might enjoy beyond pure escapism.
What I’d desire if I let myself want , even for just a moment. One night, with someone who actually seems to want me back.
Even if that man is a nightmare, hell-bent on keeping me prisoner. At the very least, I can get something out of the arrangement—until I’ve found an out, that is. While I’m stuck here, I’ll let myself give in. Temporarily.
It’s a split-second decision, but I seem to keep making those around him anyway. Surely, one more won’t ruin me for good.
My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath, and I glance down at his shirt again. “What happened to you?”
“Nothing, Stella.” His jaw tics, and he looks past me. “I told you not to worry about it.”
“How can I not? You don’t touch me on our wedding night, and then you disappear all day today and leave me to rot up here with your housekeepers. When you do finally show up, you look like you’ve been elbow-deep in someone’s chest cavity, and I’m supposed to just ignore that?”
“Aw, how quickly you’ve come to care for your terrible, monstrous husband’s well-being.”
He doesn’t even flinch when I knock the tumbler from his hand or when it shatters on the floor, spraying the cabinets and our feet with alcohol.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
“I care about my well-being,” I snap, shoving at his shoulders. “You being stupid and reckless puts my life at risk now too.”
Two fingers curl around the ends of my hair. “And if I said I also care about your well-being?” Those smoky eyes rise to mine, half-lidded and smoldering. “Would you believe me if I said this blood was spilled in your honor?”
There’s a flash in my mind of last night—me lying in his bed, tipsy enough that the room was spinning, but not enough that I couldn’t register the hard anger in his body when I mentioned his father.
Is it possible he’s telling the truth? I suppose, and I can’t deny how that possibility warms my insides with something deliciously insidious.
But the why makes no sense. Not when he’s just as responsible for my suffering.
Still, I decide that it doesn’t necessarily matter either way. If I stay here, this is a scene I’ll likely just have to deal with, so my hands lurch out, grabbing the lapels of his jacket. “Shut up,” I tell him, dragging his face to mine and sealing our mouths together again.
Immediately, his tongue sweeps in, as if trying to savor every foreign inch of me. His hands twist in my hair, and he crushes me as close as he can. I let out a little sound of desperation when he swivels, pinning me to the counter and shoving his thigh between mine.
“Shit,” I mutter, pulling away slightly.
Leo grins. “No razor blade this time?”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the taste of a threat on your lips.” Instead of letting me respond, he dives back in, plundering my mouth with his until my mind spins.
His kiss is heady and wrong. While I might lack experience, it doesn’t take a genius to realize that each scrape of his teeth and flick of his tongue has a carefully executed flourish. It’s dirty, sinful, and I fall too far into it to notice what he’s doing in other places.
The sound of a zipper unlatching cuts through the air, but when I jerk against him, he doesn’t let me pull away again. Air sweeps across my lower back, exposed as he undoes my skirt, and then he uses both hands to tear off my shirt and yank the skirt down my hips.
I move to cover myself, but he grabs my wrists and shakes his head.
“Absolutely not,” he breathes. “I want to see you.”
My heart stutters a beat as I give a short nod, abandoning logic and reason for the tempting fire in his gray eyes. They remain on my face, slowly tracking the skirt as it continues its descent down the length of me, joining the pile of clothing on the floor.
Next to go is my bra, unhooked with ease from the front.
“What were you planning to do with that blade yesterday?” he asks quietly, almost reverently. His hand skims the curve of my side, brushing the outside of one breast before moving up and along my collarbone. “You didn’t think that would be enough to kill me. I know you’re smarter than that.”
“It wouldn’t have killed you, but it’d have given me a head start.”
He pauses, his eyes flickering to mine. “You were going to run?”
“I was going to try.”
The staring continues as if he’s working through some mathematical equation in his head. “What a waste of time that would have been,” he says, his jaw clenching. “I’m beginning to doubt your intelligence, stellina .”
Chuckling, he inches his hand down, covering my entire breast. The leather is rough against my skin, and I bite my bottom lip to keep from making a sound.
He clamps down, squeezing my flesh until I cry out in pain.
“Would it truly have been a better alternative than this?” He steps closer, eyes blazing. “I haven’t forced you into anything, haven’t shredded your virginity against your will just for the sake of doing it. What makes me such a terrible match?”
My eyebrows knit together, and I shove against him. “I didn’t want to marry you in the first place! I had goals. Things I wanted to do, places I wanted to see. None of which involved another selfish, egotistical man who cares more about power and money than anything else in the world. Perhaps you haven’t forced yourself on me fully, but you did take my father up on his offer. You’re keeping me here .”
“In this luxury condo, where you’ll be taken care of and never want for anything? Where you’ll be safe and protected against your enemies? What a miserable life I’m offering.”
“A tower is a tower, Leo.” My voice softens. “I’m a prisoner whether I’m safe or not. It should’ve been my call to make.”
“So, what would you rather do? Run off to the other side of the country? Get your degree, bury yourself in research, maybe fall in love with a man who reads Popular Mechanics for fun and names a star after you?” His free hand comes up, wrapping around my throat, and he swipes over my nipple with the other, causing it to pebble. The touch is at odds with his angry tone, and I don’t know what to focus on. “Do you think someone else will be able to make you feel like this?”
“You don’t know how I’m feeling.”
“Don’t I?” He’s getting more riled up with every response I give. The tendons in his neck tighten, bulging against his skin.
With little effort, he yanks back and spins me around so I’m facing away. He stops touching me briefly, and my hands fly out, smacking against the countertop. In the next second, I feel him pushing my hips forward and spreading my ass.
With no gloves.
I’m not sure when he got rid of them, but the feel of his warm skin on mine is distinct. His palms are a bit rougher than I imagined, although I suppose living a violent life doesn’t allow for smooth, soft anything.
I don’t mind how they feel, though. Not as much as I thought I would.
“You’re angry ,” he says, gripping my cheeks with his fingers. He takes one digit and slides it forward. It brushes my clit, just barely, but I gasp anyway.
“I just told you I am.”
“You’re wet.” When his finger starts to move back, it pauses, pushing between my slick flesh to rub against that sweet spot. “ Throbbing , my wife.”
Heat scalds my cheeks. “It’s an involuntary reaction to being assaulted. The hypothalamus releases chemicals from the sympathetic nervous system and adrenal medulla, and the body gives an instantaneous response. I have nothing to do with it.”
“Yes, fight or flight. I’m familiar with the basic concept.” He draws slow circles on me, coiling tension low in my belly and up my thighs with each deliberate stroke. “Although, if you wanted me to stop, you wouldn’t have followed me inside and mauled me yourself.”
“Stop talking about me like you know me.”
“Would you rather I eat instead?”
My heart skips a beat. “What?—”
Unsurprisingly, in true Leo fashion, he doesn’t give me time to finish the question. I feel his hot, moist mouth on me in the next second, and the sudden invasion of opposing sensations sends my hips into the cabinet.
“Am I correct to assume this is a first for you?” he whispers, his breath warm on my skin.
My fingers flex as his lips work against me, gently massaging without fully tasting.
I nod and keep my gaze on the white tile backsplash.
Two bare digits pinch one ass cheek, and I jump in surprise. “When my head is between your legs, wife, I expect a verbal answer to my questions. Do not make me ask twice.”
“What happens if I do?”
Leo’s tongue is on me before the sentence is finished. He spears into me, maneuvering his body so I have to stand on my tiptoes to allow him access. I’m spread out on the counter, my hands grazing the wall as my entire being shakes to the core with the feeling of him eating happily below me.
Him licking at my most private place is downright lewd, and despite everything, I let out a low moan. “Oh God ,” I mutter into the marble counter, pinching my eyes shut as electricity shoots up my legs.
“Louder,” Leo says. “I want Him to hear me defile you.”
My body obeys as if struck by some spell. I moan louder, arching my hips as he chases my pussy. When he plunges a finger in without preamble, a mangled sound rumbles from deep in my chest.
“Aw, look at that. She likes being filled.”
I can’t even focus on his mocking tone because God, he’s fucking huge. As he saws in and out in tandem with the lashing of his tongue, I begin to feel dizzy.
“How much more do you think you can take?”
I shake my head, unable to answer.
An unbelievable stretching sensation ricochets between my thighs as he adds a second finger. “How much more, wife? Do you think you can handle all of me?”
“N-no,” I say, even as the uncomfortable expansion morphs into blinding pleasure.
He curls upward, and molten lava sears across my body, sheer bliss threatening to engulf me.
I’m vibrating, biting my lip so hard that I taste blood. The invasion is foreign, so utterly abnormal to me, and I don’t know what to do as my pussy tries caving in on itself, desperate for the high he promises.
“I can’t take more,” I admit, my voice breaking as tears spring to my eyes.
It feels so fucking good, him working me over, and when he presses the flat of his tongue to my clit and then sucks hard, I realize I’m a goner.
“I’m—I think I’m close.”
“You think?” The suction of his lips grows more intense, and I squeal. “I believe you’re right there, baby. Just need you to let go for a moment. Enjoy the feel of my mouth devouring your sweet, untouched cunt. You love it, don’t you? You wish I’d give you more.”
Fuck . The idea sends me over the proverbial cliff of ecstasy.
My fingernails scrape against the countertop as my pussy spasms, pulsing around him like a tide trying to pull in a victim. He continues lapping at my sopping flesh, the strokes against my inner muscles not slowing as I catapult into paradise with him as my guide.
But then he withdraws as abruptly as this all began, and it’s just…over.
He kisses slowly up one side of my ass while he stands, dragging his lips across my hip and then up my spine, until he’s at my ear. With one bare hand, still slick with my arousal, he grips my chin and hoists my backside against him, angling my head forcefully.
The kiss is an explosion of unfamiliar tang and that slight minty taste of Leo. I open my mouth, welcoming his affection for the first time, but then he releases me and steps back.
Dazed, I brace myself on the counter and slowly turn to face him. When I do, he’s already wearing those gloves again, and I feel strangely empty inside.
Stupidly, I reach for him, rife with vulnerability in the aftermath of the intimacy we just shared. A dark shadow crosses over his face, and he moves farther away. He shoves those gloved fingers into his pockets and gives me a once-over.
I frown. “What are you doing? I thought…”
“That I’d want your virginity like this?” He barks out a cruel laugh, and I recoil, tucking my arms against my breasts. “Come back to me when you’ve taught yourself a thing or two.”
Seconds later, he turns and disappears down the hall. I stand there, my mouth agape, wondering what the fuck just happened—how this man who was all over me minutes ago has managed to reject me in the next breath, as if none of this mattered at all.
As if he didn’t want me.
Maybe that’s the inexperience talking or the weight of what’s occurred tonight finally catching up with me.
Annoyed with everything , I yank on the ends of my hair until stars burst behind my eyes from the pain. Mamma’s voice screams in my head, and I can practically see Papà’s look of disgust on his face as she looms over me.
Stupid, Stella! You are so stupid. Why would a man like that want someone like you? Why would you matter to someone who sees you as a piece of property to barter and trade with?
Even his earlier admission that he cares for me feels silly when I think about it now. Completely implausible, given we just met yesterday.
I guess I was just holding out hope that it was more for him too. That things felt… different .
I’m beginning to doubt your intelligence.
Then again, we’re all puppets to men like Leo. And I just played right into his large talented hands.
I need to get out of here. Somehow.
No more mourning the fact I didn’t stay at my sister Elena’s house three summers ago, returning to Boston instead because I wanted to finish my education in one place.
It mattered to the schools I was applying to. They wanted the cohesion, the dedication, and the references from esteemed faculty at the Fontbonne.
It mattered to me —at least back then. Now what’s important is that my hard work doesn’t go to waste. Staying here isn’t an option if I want to make my decisions worthwhile.
My eyes flicker to the orange prescription bottle on the counter. I wonder if he even realizes he left drugs in plain sight or if he thinks he’s big enough to overpower me if I try to use them.
Maybe…
Silently, I retrieve a tall glass from a cabinet and fill it with water and ice from the fridge.
Then I unscrew the bottle cap and drop one tablet in the liquid. Just to see what happens.
It dissolves in thirty seconds. Then, for a full minute after, I just stare at the drink while a plan formulates in my head.
Maybe this is stupid. It’s likely he’ll come after me either way, but perhaps his rejection tonight was only the start of a bigger plot to edge me out of his life. I mean, it’s not like he really wanted to marry me, right? He wanted my father’s money.
If I found a way to get that to him, maybe this would be over. My parents are no help, so if he kills them anyway, I don’t think I’ll mind.
A part of me considers asking Elena or Ariana for help, especially since he practically threatened them already, but I don’t want to drag them into this. It’s too embarrassing to admit that I’m in it at all. Besides, they can fend for themselves; the main thing here is figuring out how to extract myself .
At the very least, maybe the fact we haven’t consummated will prompt him to erase me from his memory altogether. If I’m gone, maybe that’s what will matter.
Either way, I have to try .
I dump nine pills into the glass.
Wait for them to dissolve, too. Find a lemon in the fridge, slice it up, and add a few wedges to mask the taste.
And despite his rejection still stinging in the back of my mind, I bring him the glass and my naked form, hoping one distracts from the other.