Chapter Sixteen
I storm out of the house consumed with anger and need.
She infuriates me. It’s like the girl I saw in the hallway, the one who saw me, no longer exists.
The her I see changes from situation to situation—a mask for every eventuality.
I want her, the real her, all the bullshit stripped away, her heart laid bare for me and me alone.
I feel deceived, hurt, like she was playing me all along, but it doesn’t stop the ache, the need I have for her.
She’s the only person who ever chose me, and now I’m worried it’s all a lie.
Fake—something that was only ever part of her plan to decimate the Syndicate.
Was I only ever going to be a pawn in her game?
I screech around corners, sliding around bends as I push the car harder than ever before, exceeding the speed limits as I stomp harder against the throttle.
I take out my frustration on the road as I power through the gears.
I’ll roll the dice, let the chips fall where they may, and resign myself to the carnage that will be, if this is all for shits and giggles.
I accelerate harder. I turn tighter. I brake later, pushing the car until it groans and bucks under me.
Like she should have done, but I won’t take her until she gives me the real her. Until she wants it, until she wants me.
The gravel flicks up, ricocheting around the wheel arch, as I screech to a halt, pulling up outside the bar.
Frustrated and antsy. Images of her naked body flash before my eyes, like a slideshow, the bruising dark and menacing, but the flush of her skin, the look in her eye.
I want that, but I want that for real. Could she have faked that too?
I blow out a breath, stepping out of the car and pushing inside. The door closes behind me, and a few eyes glance up, following me as I walk towards the bar.
I take a seat, nodding to the barman. “Bourbon.” He grabs my drink and slides it across the bar to me. I snatch it up, toss it back and groan at the burn as it slides down my throat.
Closing my eyes, I lose myself in the moment of despair, the tingle the alcohol leaves in its wake.
I nod at the glass again, repeating the same thing three more times.
I nod over to the booths in the corner and take my drink over there.
It’s darker, more secluded, and I can sit and lick my wounds in the solitude.
I’m feeling some type of way at her throwing herself at me without actually being present in the moment, so detached and unfeeling.
I feel nothing but hurt and confusion. I thought she wanted me.
My mind’s starting to sound like a broken record.
I don’t want her body. Well, I do. I just don’t want it with her as a vacant passenger.
I want her to think. I want her to feel.
I want her to come undone for me while I fill her with copious amounts of cum. I want her…
“Well, hello there.” I glance up. The woman glaring back at me.
Pale white skin, red hair. Brown eyes. Reasonably attractive, but nothing compared to Arianna.
But she wants it. She wants me. I can see it in the glint of her eye, the flush of her cheeks, the slight elevation in her breathing.
Maybe just for sex, but she’s here, she’s present, and I smile at her.
“Hey, beautiful.” I wink at her, and she flushes a little more, then she nods to the seat beside me.
“Fancy some company?” She smiles, and I nod. Where’s the harm? We’re not together. I’m not married yet.
She slides in beside me, placing her glass on the table, and immediately places her hand on my leg, licking her lips as she shuffles towards me, sliding her hand higher towards my dick. I grab her wrist just before she reaches it. “Buy a guy a drink first.”
She smiles and waves at the barman, pointing at the glasses on the table. He nods back, and it’s not long before a waitress brings over the order. While we wait, we don’t talk, my hand still wrapped around her wrist, her gaze trained on mine, almost like we’ve been paused. A moment in time.
Once the drinks are on the table, I release her hand and grab for the drink.
As soon as the glass touches my lips, her hand slides over my dick.
My eyes flick down to her as I chug the rest of the liquid.
She inches closer as she slides her hand back and forth over my hardening erection, and I buck up against her hand.
“My friends dared me to get you to fuck me in the ladies.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as she leans closer, close enough to kiss me as she says. “It’s my bachelorette party.”
And there it is. She doesn’t want me either, just a quick fuck. I’m pissed, not allowing her to see my inner turmoil. I smile down at her. “Sure, beautiful. I’ve got time for you.”
I nod over to where the toilets are. I’m gonna make sure her fiancé knows what type of woman he’s marrying. I’m gonna make sure there are so many marks on her fucking skin that he will be unable to ignore them. And she won’t be able to pass them off as anything other than dirty fucking sex.
I stand up and nudge her out of the booth. Her eyes widen as she takes in my full height. Six foot three. I grin down at her. “I’m very much in proportion,” I wink. “Second thoughts?”
She pales but shakes her head. I smirk.
I snatch her hand, turning her and leading through the bar towards the bathroom.
Her friends whooping and hollering, I wink at them as I tug her behind me, stumbling past them.
Kicking the door open, I grin down at her.
I push her against the sink. I wrap my hands around her, gripping her ass as I pull her into me.
I kiss her neck, sucking and licking as I mark a trail of purplish bruises up towards her ear.
Perching her on the end of the worktop. I stand between her legs.
“You’re so fucking beautiful. Are you a natural redhead?
” She blushes. “Don’t tell me. I’ll find out for myself.
” I grab my wallet from my jeans, tug the condom out and tear into the wrapper, spitting the corner of the foil onto the floor.
She’s fumbling with my button and zip as I get the condom from the wrapper. She tugs my dick from the front of my jeans, lets go as if she’s been bitten by a snake, and gasps a little. I smirk as I reach down and wrap my hand around my cock, thick, bulging and already leaking.
Pulling the condom over my erection. I smirk down at her, then grab her throat and push her back. She lifts her dress. I nudge her pants to the side as I line up with her soaking pussy. “You ready?”
She gasps but nods, gripping on to the edge of the counter as her back arches over the sink.
I grip tighter around her throat, making sure I leave more bruises as I slam straight inside her.
She screams out at the intrusion. I grip her hip, and my fingers bite down against her milky pale skin.
I thrust into her, and she squeals out. I smash against her.
“Fuck, you’re so wet for me, you dirty fucking whore.
Does your fiancé get you this wet?” Her eyes widen as I pull her face towards mine, slamming into her as she tries to scream out.
Her hand flies to my wrist as I tighten again and slam into her.
Her mouth falls open, but no sound comes out. Her eyes widen as I grin down at her.
“Every time he fucks you, you’ll only be able to feel me.
He will pale in comparison.” I smash into her and she mewls and writhes as I crash our bodies together.
I twist my grip leaving redder and darker marks, thrusting into her.
I release her bruised hip and reach up, groping at her breasts and nipples through her dress before ripping the front down and pinching at the skin.
I take her breast in my hand and tighten my hold until the fingerprints show. I squeeze, and she tries to scream out.
Her eyes flutter, and I release my hold a little as she gasps, screaming out for me. I grin down at her. Lean in and suck her nipple into my mouth. I roll my teeth over it as I suck. Making sure it marks so beautifully against all that pale skin. Popping off when I’ve left enough devastation.
“I’m gonna send you back to him bruised and tender, and every time he touches you, you’ll wince away and want me.”
“Fuck,” she gasps out. As she writhes beneath me, I crash into her over and over again until she screams out. Her eyes flutter as she comes around my cock, slicking over the condom before gasping and going limp.
I don’t finish, she doesn’t deserve my cum.
I let go and rip myself out of her, dropping to my knees.
I slide my hands up her thighs while she tries to catch her breath.
I look up at her as I lick up her thigh.
When I get to the top, I suck, and suck hard, her thigh reddening before going purple.
She gasps and claws at the top of my head trying to push me away.
I move slightly before biting down hard, sinking my teeth in harsher than necessary.
She tugs at my hair, yanking and pushing, trying to free the grip I have on her.
I relax off with a smirk. I stand abruptly.
“Explain that to your fucking fiancé, you fucking filthy whore.” I yank my jeans back over my dick.
I don’t even remove the condom. I just storm out, leaving her covered in marks.
I don’t know why she made me so angry, and I don’t know why I fucked her, but I’m the one left with regret as I throw the door open and storm across the gravel to my car.
When I climb inside, I punch the wheel. And yell. “Fuck, why did you fuck with my head?”
I undo my fly, ripping the condom off and tossing it out of the window. There’s an instant relief from the strangling sensation, the feel of it against my skin felt stifling, almost like it was taunting me. Like I’ll never have her now.
I screech out onto the road, wheel spinning as the car fights for traction. I scream up the road and head back to Arianna’s. Whatever happens from here, I will see the real her whether she wants me to or not.
I slam the brakes on, skidding to a stop, as I pull up to the house.
Panic sets in as I see the van outside. I’ve only been gone a few hours.
A cleaning crew. All thoughts flee me, other than I need to get to her.
I need her in my arms. I need to make sure she’s safe.
I rip open the door, slamming it closed behind me as I bolt up the steps, rushing inside.
Thundering down the hallway towards the living room.
Shirtless, Arianna stands with her hands on her hips, and Matteo leans in far closer than necessary, talking to her.
His breath flutters those fine hairs that frame her face, his gaze staring down at her chest. Their arms touch. I rip him back.
“Get the fuck away from her,” I snarl. He glares back at me. I take her in, her barely clothed form, the blood splatter across her face and chest. The dark bruising around her neck. Seeing the other bruises from the crash, I know these weren’t there before.
“Who did this to you?” I demand. “Who the fuck did this to you?” I turn and punch Matteo, and he stumbles back.
When I go to hit him again, she grabs my arm.
And all the tension goes out of me. I turn back to her and lower my voice.
I lift my hand to her cheek and slide the other hand around her hip, pulling her to me.
“Who. Did. This. To. You?” I rasp out, struggling to contain my rage, my emotions, my fucking everything.
Her eyes close for a second, and I rest my head against hers. “Who?”
Her eyes flick to mine. A second of softness before the wall flies up, her stare hardens, and a snarl passes over her features. “Go take a shower. I can smell the cheap booze and even cheaper whore on you.”
I step back, my eyes glare at her, and she walks away. As I turn around, I take a punch to the cheek, my head whips, and when I look back, Matteo’s there, smirking.
“Well played, lover boy.” He grins as he turns and follows after her. I flop down on the couch and blow out a breath. I scrub my hands through my hair and I rest my elbows on my knees, tugging at the strands in frustration.
“What the fuck have I done?” I scrub my palms into my eyes. The dread, guilt, and downright stupidity I have feels like a big fist grabbing my heart and constricting it. The pain sticks in my chest. My breath catches in my throat and my eyes blur as I try to catch my breath.