Chapter 22 #2
"I'm not used to walking in heels," she replies, a tinge of red coloring her cheeks.
"Do you want to change into something more comfortable?"
She quickly shakes her head.
"Not with this dress. Let's just go."
A car is waiting outside to take us to the opera.
"Where are we going?" she asks, her forehead pressed to the window as the flashing lights of the city greet us.
"Surprise?" I attempt a lighthearted joke, but the look she gives me has me shaking my head, relenting, and answering her. "We have an appointment at the opera," I say, phrasing it in such a way that she thinks it's mandatory for us to attend.
While I aim to please her, I can't do it overtly, or she might think I have a hidden agenda. Well, I do, but it's best if she doesn't think that.
"The opera?" The breathlessness in her voice betrays the excitement simmering inside her.
In her diary, she'd described all the operas she wanted to see, all of which she'd only read about in other texts, which had intrigued her about this type of sung theater—her own words. I can only hope that by making this small dream of hers come true, I can gain some footing with her.
"Yes, we're expected to attend tonight's premiere," I lie. I don't know if it's a premiere or not, but if Allegra believes this is a special occasion that requires our presence, she won't be suspicious of me.
"I've always wanted to go to the opera," she admits, turning slightly so I can see only her profile. She's nibbling her lip, and I bet she's barely able to contain her excitement.
"You've never been?" I ask, even though I already know the answer. Her diary had opened my eyes to more than just her bucket list. I'd also been able to get a glimpse into her life in Milena, as well as her carefully planned escape to Agrigento—all for a chance to live, even if for a day.
She shakes her head, a sad smile playing on her lips.
"I've never left my village. Where would I have gone to the opera?"
"Why? I know your family, and they've always been a big presence in the social scene of New York, Paris, and Milan. Why wouldn't they include you too?"
Her expression changes, and she moves her head a little to the right, trying to hide the sadness on her face.
"They had other plans for me, which you clearly ruined."
"Don't tell me you'd have rather married Franzè?" I ask, disturbed by the possibility.
Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. For the first time, she looks utterly speechless, and I don't like it.
"Tell me," I probe further, wanting to know. No, needing to know if she'd have preferred that goddamn pedophile to me.
"No," she finally replies, her voice soft and lacking confidence.
It's not enough.
I want to shake her, grab her by the shoulders and make her look me in the eye while answering this.
"No? It sure doesn't seem like it," I add sarcastically, my tone biting.
My fists clench by my sides, and my mind is suddenly invaded by unwanted images—of Allegra on her back, ready for Franzè. Of him roughing her up and treating her like his personal sex toy.
"What do you want me to say? You forced me into this marriage, when you knew full well I was promised to another." She turns to me, her eyes full of fire.
That's the last straw, and my restraint snaps. Grabbing her by the waist, I tug her to my side, her face under mine. My nostrils flare as I meet her rebellious gaze. Her lips are drawn into a thin line, the challenge clear.
"Is that so, little tigress? Look me in the eye and tell me you'd rather be with Franzè." My other hand goes to her jaw, roughly holding it in place so I can get my answer.
She's quiet, her eyes silently raging at me.
"Tell me you'd rather have his mouth on you," I continue, my lips almost touching hers.
My tongue sneaks out, and I lick the seam of her lips.
She grinds her teeth, making sure there's a barrier to stop my assault.
But I don't stop, not when the images are still fresh in my mind.
I press in, my tongue sliding across her teeth before nibbling at her lower lip.
"Tell me," I push her, my fingers brushing across her already hardened nipples, "would you rather have his hands on your lovely tits?" And just to make my point clear, I take the hard bud between two fingers, applying slight pressure to it.
"I hate you," she spits the words out, and I take advantage of this to mold my mouth to hers, my tongue exploring her depths. I bring my hand over her nape, holding her to me, trying to get her to submit.
She doesn't.
Her teeth clamp down on my tongue, biting so hard that blood starts flowing. I draw back, curiously regarding her.
"I told you I'd bite," she replies smugly.
"And I told you I might want you to." Her brows furrow for a second before she realizes my intentions. In one fluid movement, I have her on her back, sprawled across the seat.
My hand starts playing with the hem of her dress, slowly sliding it up her legs. Her eyes fixed on me, she's waiting to see my next move. She's not even struggling when her dress is bunched up over her hips to reveal her pink panties. I push it even higher until her stomach is exposed too.
"Done fighting?" I arch an eyebrow, and she narrows her eyes at me.
"You asked me if I'd rather have married Franzè," her voice is steady, her gaze unflinching, "but how could I have a preference when I'm still a prisoner, regardless of my jailer? Does it really matter who puts me in a cage? I'm still locked away."
My fingers dig into the flesh of her thighs, her words irritating me.
"I'm not Franzè," I say through gritted teeth.
"Really? I hadn't noticed," she adds dryly, a bored expression painted on her features.
"You're wrong to toy with me like this, Allegra," I say as my hands move over her ass. "And it makes me want to show you even more who you belong to."
"I belong to no one but myself," she huffs and pushes at my shoulders.
"That's where you're wrong, little tigress.
You're mine." I lower my lips to her abdomen, right below her belly button.
Using my bloodied tongue, I swirl it around her virgin flesh, writing the initial of my name.
Branding her. Her skin is my canvas, and the red contrasts perfectly with the creamy white of her belly.
I drag my tongue lower, skirting just above the material of her panties.
"What are you doing?" Her cry of outrage is followed by yet another shove, trying to get me off of her.
"You're mine, Allegra. The sooner you get used to it, the easier it's going to be for you."
She chuckles, almost forcefully.
"For me, or for you? What do you want, Enzo? You want me to get on my knees and submit to you? Because that's never going to happen."
"We'll see."
The car stops and I straighten, righting my clothes. Turning to her, I give her my most charming smile.
"Shall we?"
Because this has just begun.