Chapter Eight
Roselyn
I can’t take being in this room any longer, watching TV all day, so I came up with a plan to speak to Devious. I haven’t spoken to him since our wedding night, and I keep finding myself waking up and falling asleep, and it’s the same thing all over again today.
I stare out of the window and it’s dawn. The sky bleeds orange and yellow, and the sun is high in the air. At least I can step outside onto the balcony and smell the crisp air, so that’s what I do. I lean against the balcony. Looking down, I spot Devious speaking to Aiden as they stand next to each other. Devious says something about a meeting this morning, and Aiden glances up and smiles at me, but I don’t return it. Devious follows his line of view, and he looks back at his brother.
Suddenly, I feel embarrassed for spying, so I quickly go back to the room and sit on the bed. I grab the remote from the nightstand, flip through Hulu to find something to watch, to start off my boring day. I haven’t come up with a grand plan to escape this hellhole yet, but I will.
The door opens, Devious standing in the doorway with a tray of food in his hand. He wears an expensive dark suit that hugs his body, and my cheeks burn at the sight of him.
He eyes me up and down, sets the tray on to the dresser, and he turns on the balls of his feet, heads to the door, not speaking to me. I don’t know why it bothers me, because maybe I don’t want to have anything to do with him anyways.
“Wait,” I blurt out.
He stops in his tracks, but doesn’t turn to look at me. The guilt of trying to kill him burns in my chest.
I really thought he was going to abuse me. Why wouldn’t he? All of the mafia men are abusive.
“I’m sorry.” The words rush out. “I’m sorry for trying to kill you on our wedding night. Please don’t leave me locked up in this room.”
He turns back around, rolls up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, and I watch the veins under his tan skin.
“I can kill you, you know.” He rubs the back of his head, stepping closer.
“I know. And you didn’t.” I pause. “Why didn’t you kill me?”
“Because I want you,” he admits, stepping in front of me and stroking my chin. “You have captured my attention and no one has done that in a very, very long time.”
My heart flutters in my chest and I exhale loudly. We stare at each other for a while, until he says, “I usually kill people who try to kill me.”
“I thought you were going to beat me.”
“I will never beat you.” His fingers travel to my collarbone and then down to the valley of my breasts, causing my breath to hitch. “I’ll spank you when you’re not acting right, but as far as actually beating you, I don’t believe in abusing women.”
The thought of him spanking me turns me on, but I don’t let it show. I have to keep my poker face when I’m around him.
“Please, I learned my lesson. Please let me go, I want to be free from this room.”
He grips my chin hard. “You must really think I’m stupid to believe you won’t try to escape me.”
He heads to the door.
“Please, what do I have to do to earn my freedom?”
He turns around, and a grin spreads across his face. “There isn’t anything you can do. You’re my wife.”
I grind my teeth. “I don’t care what a legal document says, I’ll never be yours.”
He moves toward me then, and I scoot back as his eyes burn a hole through mine as he slowly yanks down my pants. My heart catches in my throat, and my pulse thumps loudly in my ears. I should stop him, but I can’t form any words at the moment. He’s the enemy, and I want his hands all over my body. He slides my panties to the side and shoves his index and middle fingers inside of me.
I let out a soft whimper.
“You’re soaking my fingers, Mrs. Vitali.”
“It isn’t from you,” I snap.
Not taking his eyes off of me, he places his finger on my clit, and I bite down on my bottom lip to keep myself from moaning.
I shouldn’t spread my legs wider for him to sink his fingers farther inside of me. I should be hating him right now, pushing him away, but I can’t help myself. Right now, I’ll give anything to not feel empty.
“Devious, please…”
“Please what, Mrs. Vitali?”
I’m on edge and a few seconds away from coming.
“Stop,” I rush out the words.
“No. You need to learn who you belong to.”
My core squeezes around his digits as I bite down on his forearm and come hard, and he groans, pulls out, and licks his fingers.
“You’re a biter, I like it.”
Shame overrides me after I come down from the high, because I shouldn’t want him touching me at all. I shouldn’t want him fucking me. I had a weak moment, but it won’t happen again.
He strokes my cheeks, and I pull back from him.
“I don’t want you,” I say.
“You either act like my pretty little wife or you be my pretty little pet.” He places his hand around my neck, squeezing slightly. “A collar would look good around your neck.” He examines said neck. “Especially one with diamonds and made out of leather.
I shake my head, peeling his fingers away from my skin. “Fuck you, Cayden.”
“You will, nymph. Sooner rather than later.”
He shrugs then, walks to the door, and takes one last look at me before leaving me alone once again.
I toss the food across the room, and it sticks to the wall before sliding down onto the floor. Tears wet my eyes, and I go to the bed, burying my face into the pillow. Then I pull the blanket over my head and cry.