13. Verity
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Verity
R ufino stands behind me, his massive bulking body trapping me against the wall. Not that I could move if I wanted to. The rope tied around my wrists is burning against my skin with each thrust of his cock into me.
My pussy is pulsing over him, my legs weak with desire.
He is fucking me as though he owns me.
Like I am something he possesses and can do whatever he wants with.
It’s so fucking hot I’m going crazy with desire.
Every time he pushes up into me I cry out in pleasure.
I’ve never felt this free before.
This wild and naughty.
He locks his hands around my waist.
I arch my back towards him, wanting him to fill me up in every way.
His hand runs up the front of my body and around my jaw, his long fingers dipping into my mouth.
I wrap my lips around them, licking and sucking while his cock plunges into me over and over again.
He growls against my ear and the sound of his pleasure pushes me over the edge. I can’t hold back anymore.
My pussy tightens, then throbs and spasm as my orgasm exploded inside me like fireworks, shooting through my entire body.
I moan loudly, collapsing against him, his cock is rock hard inside me and with one last, forceful thrust he releases his own pleasure into me.
We stand against the wall, catching our breath. My heart is racing, and I can’t wipe the stupid drunk grin off my face. He leans down and kisses me along my neck, across my shoulder. I sigh in contentment.
Rufino unties the rope from my wrists and I drop to my knees, letting myself collapse onto the bed, my hair floats around me like water over the silky blankets.
He steps over me then lies down next to me.
He pulls me up against his chest and I snuggle into him, realizing that I’ve only been able to sleep next to him once. I’ve been dreaming about being with him with no inhibitions, just him and me.
I close my eyes, the world still spinning.
His hand is drifting gently up and down my spine, ticklish, but pleasurable.
I’m too tired to wiggle away.
Tonight was so much fun.
I can’t believe I got away from the guards. A soft giggle falls from my lips when I think about my father’s face when he finds out.
Rufino reaches up and brushes his hand through my hair.
“Do you want to play some more?” he asks, his voice deep, sounding sleepy as well.
My drunken mind screams yes but my exhausted body just snuggles closer against him. “Let me rest for a little bit.” I mumble, drifting towards sleep.
Waking up is like opening my eyes into a genuine nightmare. The headache activates with full force and when I swallow my mouth is dry like it is full of cotton balls. This hangover is beyond anything I’ve ever felt.
Fury coursed through me as I drank last night at the party and since stepping off the plane in Las Vegas.
I groan loudly, almost crying from the pain of my hangover.
“What did I do?” I mumble, reaching up to hold my head still because it feels like it’s going to fall off.
“Hello my beautiful wife.” His voice makes me jump. “I brought you a coffee, some water, and some headache pills.”
“Rufino?” I roll over, towards the sound of his voice, and my head pounds harder. Pain throbs against the walls of my skull and my stomach churns with nausea.
Forcing my eyes open the ache in my body grows worse.
The motel room comes into focus.
Oh no.
Oh no.
Fuck.
No.
“Are we - married?” I mutter through my cotton ball mouth.
“Yes, Mrs. Vece. You are my wife.” He sits down on the bed next to me and I close my eyes again.
This is too much.
I’ve done stupid things. Sure. Plenty .
But I ’ m only twenty-three years old. I can’t be married.
The bed shifts under his weight as he moves to help me sit up.
“Drink this. I promise it will help. I think you might have had an entire bottle of vodka by yourself last night.”
I groan in protest as he sits me up against the pillow and forces a bottle of still water into my hands.
“Open.” He demands. I open my mouth and he drops two pills onto my tongue.
“Now drink.”
The first tip of water is like rain in the desert. My throat grabs at it and my body begs for more.
The second sip of water is like someone punching me in the stomach. Nausea leaps forward and I have to press my lips together to stop if from coming back up.
“Ugh.” I groan again, because it’s all I seem to do.
“Sleep a bit more, vixen. I’m right here with you. Give the headache tables some time to kick in.”
He doesn’t have to ask me twice.
I snuggle back down into the bed and close my eyes.
Restless, pain filled sleep steals me away for a while longer.
My dreams are vivid and confusing. The silky sheets are unfamiliar against my skin.
When I open my eyes, the second time the painkillers have helped. My head doesn’t weight a ton and my eyes aren’t aching as much. The nausea is down to a dull annoyance.
I drag myself into a sitting position. Rufino is next to me on the bed, reading news articles on his phone.
“I got you a fresh coffee.” He grins at me.
“You are amazing. How are you not as hungover as me?” I sigh, picking it up and taking a sip of the heavenly dark liquid.
“I think you drank enough for three people.”
I sit quietly for a moment trying to piece my thoughts together. We were both drunk last night otherwise we would never have done something so stupid.
Looking down at my hand I wiggle the finger wearing the beautiful pink ring. It’s so pretty.
But I don’t want to be married.
I’m sure he doesn’t either.
“Rufino - we are going to stop at the chapel and get the wedding annulled right?” I say firmly.
“What?” he snarls at me, his eyes darkening.
“I - I mean - I don’t want to break up with you - but marriage is - it’s so severe.” I stammer, nervous of his intense reaction.
He gets off the bed, standing alongside it and glaring down at me.
“ No . We will not be annulling the wedding, Verity. You are my wife. You are mine. There is no fucking way I’ll be letting you go.”
“Rufino I have to go. My father will kill us both. I need to be back home before he knows any of this happened. And I can’t be married. ”
The pain of my hangover is now being overruled by the panic building in my chest. Rufino looks furious. The disappointment in his eyes is terrifying.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, vixen.”
He takes the coffee from my hand and sets it down on the bedside table, then lifts me out of the bed. I’m too stunned to stop him.
Grabbing some rope he wraps it around my wrists, slaps tape over my mouth and carries me out to his car.
I keep thinking - this is a joke - this is a joke. Any second now he’s going to put me down.
But he doesn’t.
He puts me into the trunk of his car.
I scream against the tape but only a muffled sound comes out.
I kick against the closed trunk and back of the seats, but nothing happens. Rufino doesn’t open the trunk laughing and teasing me.
The engine starts.
The car moves.
And my panic sets in for real.
Last night we were playing games - he kidnapped me, and we did some wild stupid and fun things - but this - this is too much.
This is too real.
Now that the fun glowing haze of alcohol has worn off all I’m left with is the truth.
Last night was only a game to me .
He planned every piece of that evening down to the last moment. He knew he was going to marry me before he even got to Las Vegas. He knew he was going to kidnap me and make me his wife.
But why?
I don’t get it.
Why did he go to such extremes?
We drive for about twenty minutes and I end up just closing my eyes and focusing on my breathing, forcing myself to be as calm as possible and to ignore the throbbing ache of my hangover headache which is now back with a vengeance.
Gravel crunches beneath the tires as we slow down and then come to a complete stop. A car door opens, then closes, and his footsteps crunch against gravel as well. My heart is racing in anger when he opens the trunk.
I curse him from beneath the tape over my mouth. Shooting insults with my eyes, letting him see how furious I am.
Rufino lifts me out of the trunk and sets me down on the gravel. It bites into my bare feet.
“I’m going to take the tape off now. It might hurt a little.”
I narrow my eyes, breathing heavily.
He pulls the tape off in one quick movement and I scream at full volume. Not from the pain of the tape peeling off my skin but from pure anger and adrenalin.
“What the fuck is going on?” I shout, stomping my foot, then regretting it as more stones bite against my skin.
“Verity, take a deep breath and calm down.”
“I won’t calm down. Don’t tell me to calm down. You put me in the trunk of your car. I don’t have to calm down. ”
The scorching desert sun is backing down on me and I squish my eyes closed, wanting to vomit again. Maybe, for my sake , I should calm down.
“I’m going to untie your hands.” He says, turning me around so that he can pull the rope off.
As soon as my hands are free I take off, running at full speed.
My feet hurt, my head hurts, I want to vomit, I’m thirsty and in pain.
So, I stop running and turn to look at him.
That asshole is leaning again the side of the car with his arms folded across his chest.
“You aren’t even trying to chase me.” I huff, shouting over the short distance I put between us.
“Where are you planning on going? You’re in a desert with no shoes in a little white dress.”
I huff louder and spin away from him, even more determined to get away now.
I walk down the road with no idea of where it leads.
Behind me I hear the car start. He drives until he is alongside me, moving forward at the same pace as my walking.
“Go away.” I snap.
“Just get in the car, my love. We can go home.”
“Home? Or home? Where is home?”
“My home. You’re my wife and you belong in my home.”
“Is that so?” I sass, walking faster.
“For fuck sakes.” He mutters, pulling the hand break up the climb out, marches over to me, drags me to the car and throws me into the passenger seat - slamming the door closed.
I sit with my arms folded across my chest and my lower lip pouted out, my face turned away from him.
Driving is better than walking though.
No one should subject themselves to a desert stroll with a headache like this.
Rufino drives us to the airport and I don’t bother fighting as he leads me onto his private jet. I’m tired. I want food. I want to sleep. I will deal with this stuff-up of a situation when I’m better.