Chapter 23
Chapter 23
It was our last night in Valencia. I stood on the balcony of the suite, overlooking the view of the city, listening to the waves hitting the stone seawall.It had been an eventful day. Alastor came in first place, and I told Meroveo I wanted to donate all the prize money. He consented, asking me to choose the charities of my choice.
The smoke of his cigar lingered in the air as I felt his eyes touching my back. I was looking for a way to discuss attending classes at the University of Castillo. The ethnobotany program was impressive, and it would be a dream to be accepted.
Meroveo was a man of old world masculine tradition. I knew that I was to play the part of his wife, but the dynamics of our relationship still confused me. The estate at Monteverde was beautiful, but I refused to sit around all day playing the role he expected with no endeavors of my own.
I learned to observe him and how he operated. He was meticulous in everything he did, feared and respected, but people were uncomfortable in his presence. Something unnatural clung to him.
I stepped back inside, taking a deep breath, ready to confront him about my future.
"How was the view?" he asked as I sat across the couch, pouring myself a cup of tea. He looked relaxed, sipping from the amber liquid in his glass. A chrome gun lay on the table, reminding me of what he was.
"It's beautiful. We're right across from the ocean, that's always a good thing," I answered, the memories of home brought an automatic smile to my face.
"Why is that?" Meroveo asked, looking at me intrigued.
"In Salamanca, living as close to the sea is seen as a blessing. To be near the water brings you good luck, protection, and prosperity provided by Our Lady." I felt vulnerable the second the words left my mouth, and I overshared a part of myself that he didn't deserve.
"La Nina del Mar," he answered, lost in memories. “De las olas salió una nina. Un regalo del mar."
Out of the ocean waves. A girl came—a gift from the sea.
"An old poem I used to hear the guajiros sing. De las olas salió una nina. Un regalo del mar”
Out of the ocean waves. A girl came—a gift from the sea.
I looked away, refusing to feel the intimacy of the moment. The smoke in the air covered us in his scent.
"There is something I want to talk to you about." I started, meeting his eyes.
"Tell me what you want, little Dove, and I'll do my best to grant your wish," he seemed pleased, giving me his full attention.
"How many more decisions about my life will you take from me until you're satisfied?" I asked, fighting to maintain composure and swallowing down the resentful anger.
"Careful, Dove," Calm and even, the threat of his words was left unsaid.
"Be careful of what, Meroveo?" I seethed. "Are you going to tell me I'm too young, too naive, that I don't understand the way of your world?" I was shaking in both fear and anger. "But I'm old enough to understand what it feels like to be underneath you. I'm old enough to understand that, right, Meroveo?" I questioned scathingly. The wave of pain resurfacing, unable to contain the emotions anymore.
I felt the air shift, and something inside him woke up. My defiance seemed to incense him even more.
He took his time with his drink, undoing the rest of his shirt, watching me, and holding me to the spot as he slowly rose. "Forced you?" he questioned, never raising his voice.
I kept still, not backing down, as he roughly pulled me up to him in one quick movement, gripping the back of my hair gently to look into his eyes.Meroveo hadn't tried to have sex with me since we left Montverde.
"From what I recall, you were soaking wet beneath me with that same blush on your face." His gaze searched my face. "Calling out my name, giving me that sweet flower that will only ever belong to me," he said with authority. "You opened for me, or don't you remember?"
I wanted to slap the wicked smile.
"You aren't innocent in this brujita . You called me in your dreams." He taunted me. "You remember them?" he whispered, pulling on my hair. His ringed index finger traced the curve of my cheek, his hand sliding up the back of my neck. I pulled in a sharp breath, trying to move away from him. His soft words were vile and cruel."You will learn to obey me," his rough fingers were on my chin. "I will never take pleasure in hurting you, but I will if I have to, little Dove." he kissed me below my ear, slowly trailing down my neck. The caress was as brutal as it was gentle. His coercive touch was a mockery of tenderness.
"Submit to me, and I will lay the world at your feet." He whispered darkly, kissing me slowly. His masterful mouth swayed and coaxed in tormenting seduction.He unzipped the back of my dress, leaving me exposed, unclasping my bra. I tried to cover myself, but he wouldn't let me.
He gripped one breast in his hands firmly, squeezing and twisting my sensitive nipples, kissing my neck. The unwanted shock of arousal flowed into the seams of my underwear. He hissed deeply, his fingers slipping inside, opening me, coating himself in my wetness.
"I hate you," I whispered vehemently, burning where he touched. Despising the tiny gasp leaving my mouth, I tried to fight him, not giving in to his forced seduction.
"No, you don't," he calmly answered, lifting me into his arms like I weighed nothing towards the bedroom. My struggle was useless. I was no match against his strength.
"I'll show you how much you hate me, brujita." He mocked, dropping me on the bed, taking off the rest of his clothes.
Slowly, deliberately, purposely drawing out my discomfort.
"Meroveo, wait… please, I don't want…" I tried to reason and escape from him, but my pleading was useless.
He cut me off with a dominant kiss. The sensation of pained pleasure flowed through my veins as he used his hard body to spread my legs open.
"Give it to me," his hypnotic words, his fingers brushing tenderly down my thighs, pulling my panties off, exposing me, slipping his fingers inside.
"No," I begged, trying again to push him off.
"Yes," he chuckled, taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking while moving his fingers, stroking the bud until I felt myself losing the battle. The sensations, the burning pleasure, were too much.
I panted, my nails gripping his back in desperation, arching into him, screaming out as pleasure ripped through my body and my orgasm leaked over his fingers.My thighs were shaking as a moan passed my lips, and he slipped himself inside of me, filling me in one thrust, moving in and out of me like a man starved. He watched me with startling ownership. His breathing was rough and ragged as I moaned beneath him, forcing me onto my stomach, pulling my hips, and setting a punishing sensual rhythm.
The treacherous ache reached a feverish peak. I felt myself clenching around him, another orgasm exploding from my body.
He grunted above me, picking up his thrust, fingers bruising my hips, gripping, and slamming into me fervently.
"You are mine."
I felt him stiffen, the hot spurt of his release spilling inside of me. My moans escalated with pleasure, and his name was the only syllable on my lips.