Seven
ISABEL
“Please, Father, please stop,” I cry out, pulling at my bindings from the bed, tugging until my skin rips and stains the rope red with my blood.
“You’re going to hell for all your temptation and indiscretions.” His hand moves faster up and down his sex.
I hate this.
I hate him.
Them.
I hate them all, and I truly hope that one day someone will burn the entire church to the ground.
For years, Father Cassio has been spilling his seed on me under the guise that he’s cleansing me. Treating me to the Lord’s favorite brand of purification. It’s disgusting, and I hate every minute of it. Father Cassio is a sick man who gets off on other’s pain.
Turning my head away, I bite my lip and close my eyes tightly.
I can tell he’s almost finished because he picks up the whip.
As his seed juts out, the leather crashes down across my stomach, thighs, and breasts.
He cries into the dimly lit room with his pleasure, while I silently cry about my displeasure.
All because I didn’t want to receive confession today. I had nothing to confess. I’ve been good. On my absolute best behavior because the last beating Sister Hildegard gave me made me so sick, I still feel the agony from a week ago.
“Dolce,” I hear the growl, and it doesn’t make sense in this dream. Pace wasn’t here. If he were, he’d have never allowed this to happen. “Isabel, wake up.” His tone grows sterner. “Now!”
My eyes pop open, and I blink rapidly, staring up at Pace’s angry face. I don’t know what I’ve done or said, but it must have revealed something he didn’t like. “Are you with me now?” A finger grazes down the side of my cheek, wiping away tears I didn’t realize I was crying.
“Yes.” My dry throat causes my voice to crack. Sitting up, darkness surrounds me, and I feel disoriented as Pace wraps his body around me from behind. “He did things to me. Things he had no right to do.”
“I know.” I turn my head to look him in the eye, and the wrath reflected at me is startling. “I’d like to punish him for everything wrong he ever did to you, but I fear that would take a lifetime, and I’m not prepared to hand over my life to him. I’d rather dedicate it to you.”
“You keep saying you’re a monster, Pace”—I cup his cheek as I turn into his body—“but you consistently prove to me what a good man you are. You do dreadful things for good reasons.”
Turning our bodies so I’m lying beneath him, Pace settles between my legs, our nudity more apparent now.
“If I’m good, it’s simply because of you.
I’d have never given Daia a second thought, otherwise.
I wouldn’t have looked further into her background.
I’d have sent the churches files to my boss and moved on to the next job.
Anything I am is because of you, Isabel. ”
Seizing my lips in a kiss meant to capture my soul, I allow Pace to take me.
To give me the pleasure only he can provide.
We move slowly, working to build up the carnal satisfaction that comes with our bodies conjoining.
“Pace.” I gasp his name as my bliss ignites a fire in my belly, catapulting me into a universe filled with nothing but ecstasy.
Hooking my legs with his arms, he grinds deeper into my core. “Fuck, you’re perfect, dolce. Made for me.” I preen at his praise, purring as he takes me however he likes.
His hips pump harder, more furious, as he goes deeper, lodging his body into mine and taking the stress of my nightmare away as we explode together.
“Again,” I whisper in his ear, kissing along his neck, and scraping my nails down his back and sides.
Leaving what I know will be a trail of red marks in the morning.
“You need your rest,” he mutters in my ear, even as he moves to flip me over so I’m on my knees.
“Christ, why can’t I get enough of you?” Kissing down my back, Pace leaves a trail of love bites along my spine.
Stretching out for him, his hands grip my butt cheeks, massaging and spreading them wide before I feel him at my back entrance.
The combined juices of our pleasure make it easier for him to slide in.
A burn slices through my body as he thrusts in and out, gentle at first, so I can grow used to the foreign invasion.
“Breathe for me, dolce.” His muscular body covers me from behind as he entwines our fingers together, pushing them up the bed to hold onto the frame.
Doing as he suggests, the burn turns to pleasure, and soon, I think I forget my own name. All I know is Pace Cardarelli. The man who rescued me from true evil and keeps promising to give me a life worth fighting for. He’s become my solace in the darkest of times and has quickly captured my heart.
Pace
As I watch Isabel sleep in the early morning light, her dark hair fanned out around her on the stark white sheets, completely nude and covered in marks from my teeth and fingers because I can’t keep my hands off her, I agonize over the message I just read from Santi.
After dinner last night with Daia’s new family, I called my brother to gather more information on Isabel’s mother.
It turns out, her mother was a junky whore who sold Isabel when she was only a few days old to the woman the church stole her from.
That woman now wants nothing to do with Isabel, despite her desire to have her when she was an infant and searching for her for years afterwards.
She has since lost her interest in being a mother and has asked not to be contacted again.
Santi is currently trying to find out who Isabel’s father is, but he informed me that a DNA site might garner better results than his digging because the birth mother never had a damn clue.
Isabel didn’t vocalize it yesterday, but I saw the look in her eyes as Daia and her mother interacted.
Isabel wants that familial connection, and I can only hope we find her father, and if we can’t do that, then perhaps my own parents can be an appropriate substitute.
I know they adore Nicola and Amalia. Having daughters instead of just us sons has been a joy for them both.
“You’re staring at me.” Her sleepy voice warms my long-dead heart.
When a cheerful smile spreads across her face, I know I won’t be telling her about her parents until we’re back in Catania or Palermo.
I can’t cause her heartbreak without surrounding her in the comforts of what will eventually be her home.
“It’s hard to take my eyes off you when you’re looking delicious enough to eat.
” She takes the comment and turns it into an invitation by spreading her legs for me.
Inhaling, I can smell her scent and don’t hesitate to crawl between her legs, lapping up her cream and sucking on her sensitive nub.
I spent the better part of last night making love to her, taking her sweet then hard in her tight ass.
She’s addicted to orgasms and has no trouble accepting them any way I’ll give them to her.
Like now, sucking vigorously as my fingers slip inside her body, massaging her sweet spot as my dick grows, needing to fuck her until I plant a baby inside of her, if I haven’t already.
“Come for me, dolce. Give me all that sweet cream.” Grasping my hair with both hands, she pulls the strands until her body tightens like a rod and explodes, a silent scream lodged in her throat as I use my tongue to bring her down from the erotic high.
“Mmm,” she moans, licking her lips as I kiss across her belly to each hip bone.
“Marry me,” I demand. I had no clue I was going to say that but, fuck, it feels right.
“What?” Her shocked gasp as she sits up to stare down at me is filled with emotion.
“Be my wife,” I say again.
“You don’t mean that.” It’s her eyes that get me, always her beautiful eyes. The windows to her soul. She’s hopeful, but nothing in Isabel’s life has come easy for her.
“Why?” While I can tell what she’s thinking most of the time, I want to know her thought process as well.
“Well, because we’ve only known each other for a couple of days. You can’t be sure you want to spend your entire life with me.” She’s sitting up straighter now, and the furrow in her brow tells me she’s prepared to fight. I just don’t think she knows what she’s fighting for.
“Sure, I do. I’ve said it repeatedly, dolce. You were made for me. There is nothing in this world I’m more convinced of than that.” No matter what other points she tries to argue.
Biting on her lip, I see her gearing up for another argument, so instead, I ask, “Do you not want to be my wife?” I’m no stranger to rejection; however, I find myself dreading the answer. Because if she says no, I’m not sure what I’ll do.
“What kind of question is that?” Her eyes glare at me as she realizes I’m using her logic against her. “I just don’t want you to regret choosing me.” And there it is.
Her own fears of rejection.
“Never in a million years would I regret having you at my side, under me, over me, or anywhere in my life so long as you wear my ring and carry my last name.” She melts into my arms, laying a kiss on my lips that quickly turns heated and has me covering her body again.
“Tell me yes, dolce, I won’t accept anything else. ”
She rolls her eyes at me, but a smile illuminates her face. Radiance unlike anything I’ve seen before. Beauty like nothing to compare. Isabel’s happiness is contagious, and I’ve just been infected.