Chapter 8 #4
The orgasm crashes through me, wave after wave, and I’m crying out his name, my nails digging into his back, my whole body clenching around him.
“Mina.” His voice breaks as he fucks me hard through my climax. “Mina.”
He buries himself deep and goes rigid, a groan tearing from his throat as he comes inside me. I feel the pulse of him, the heat, and it sets off another aftershock of pleasure that leaves me trembling.
He collapses on top of me, all his weight covering me, his face buried in my neck.
For a long moment, neither of us moves. We just breathe together, our hearts pounding in sync, our bodies still joined.
“Mina.” His voice is muffled against my skin. “You are…”
I don’t have words either. My hands reach up to slide into his hair.
He lifts his head to look at me, and his expression is so soft, so open, so full of wonder that it makes my chest ache.
“I love you,” he says. “I love you so much.”
The declaration is so sudden, and I don’t know how to respond. Before I can say anything, he’s kissing me again, slow and sweet and tender.
Eventually, he pulls out of me, and I wince at the sudden emptiness. He rolls onto his side and gathers me into his arms, pulling my back against his chest, his arms wrapping around me like he never wants to let go.
His lips brush my neck, and the curve of my ear.
“Stay with me,” he murmurs. “Forever. Stay with me forever.”
I close my eyes and sink into the warmth of him. This is everything I ever wanted. Everything I was afraid to hope for. Cristiano, holding me like I’m precious. Loving me like I’m the only thing that matters.
I was wrong about him. The wardrobe was just a mistake, a moment of teenage panic that he’s regretted ever since. This is the real Cristiano, a man who gives me snow globes and carries me carefully and makes love to me like I’m the center of his universe.
“Marry me.”
His words are so quiet I almost miss them.
My eyes snap open. “What?”
“Marry me,” he breathes, his arms tightening lovingly around me. “I want you to be my wife, Mina.”
He’s still holding me against his chest, his arms warm around my body, and I stare at the ceiling, letting myself imagine it for just a moment. What it would be like to say yes. To turn around, look at his face, and say yes, I’ll marry you. I’ll be yours forever.
Be his bride. Wear white for him. A satin dress and a lace veil. Hear him declare his love for me before all of Malus.
I could. The words are right there on my tongue. He’s asking me, and he means it, and a part of me wants to say it so badly my chest aches with it.
But I’m the housekeeper’s daughter. And this is still his father’s house.
“Cristiano. I’m eighteen. You’re nineteen. We haven’t even been on a date.”
“That doesn’t matter. I’ve loved you my whole life. But if you want, I’ll take you on a million dates, as long as you wear my ring and promise yourself to me.”
“But—”
“Say yes.” He’s kissing my throat, his lips warm and insistent. “Say you’ll marry me.”
My head is spinning. This is too much, too fast. “Cristiano, even if I wanted to, your father would never allow it. He’d never let his son marry the housekeeper’s daughter.”
He goes still. Completely, utterly still.
“Don’t worry about my father.” His voice sounds strange all of a sudden. Harder and colder.
“Cristiano?”
“Just say yes, and I’ll figure out the rest.”
“But there’s nothing to figure out. A man like Mr. Montoni won’t allow his only son to marry someone like me.”
“I’ve thought about that too,” he admits. “Dad will never accept us.”
I relax a little, grateful we’re on the same page, even though the reality that I’m not good enough for Cristiano stings.
“So I’ll kill him.”
His voice has gone cold and completely flat. The warmth of the moment evaporates.
“What?”
His arms are still wrapped around me, but they feel different now. Constricting.
“If Dad won’t let us be together, I’ll kill him. Problem solved.”
Shocked laughter bursts from my lips, because he has to be joking. “Cristiano, you can’t be serious.”
“I’m completely serious.” He says it calmly, like it’s the most logical thing in the world. “He’s a monster anyway, Mina. You don’t know half the things he’s done. He deserves to die.”
I try to turn around and see his face, but his arms are locked around me like steel bands.
“Let me go.”
“Mina—”
“Let me go!” I’m struggling now, panic rising in my throat. “Cristiano, please, you’re scaring me.”
“I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice is still calm, which somehow makes it worse. “I would never hurt you. I’m trying to protect you. To protect us.”
“By killing your father?”
“Yes.”
“That’s insane!”
“It’s necessary.”
I’m crying now, hot tears streaming down my face. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Five minutes ago we were making love, and now he’s talking about murder like it’s a grocery list. He’s going to turn himself into a killer.
“Please,” I sob. “Please, Cristiano, I don’t want this. We can figure something else out. Just let me go and we’ll talk.”
I don’t want to talk. All I want is to put my clothes back on and hobble away from Cristiano as fast as I can, calling out for Mom. My mind flashes back to four years ago, trapped in the wardrobe while I pleaded and lied until he let me out.
The hands that are holding me prisoner are the same hands that were just in my hair, on my waist, learning the feel of me and giving me so much pleasure. Ten minutes ago, I was so happy.
“There’s nothing to figure out.” His arms tighten further, and I can barely breathe. “This is the only way. Once it’s done we can be together, and you’ll thank me.”
“I won’t. I could never.”
“You will.” He sounds so certain. “You’ll forgive me. You’ll marry me. We’ll be happy together, Mina. I promise. I’ll make you so happy.”
“Cristiano, please. You can’t do this.” My body is shaking with sobs. He means every word he says. I can hear it in his voice.
“I’m sorry.” His voice softens, almost tender. “I know this is hard. I know you’re scared. But I can’t let anyone come between us, and I can’t let you run away again.”
I feel him shift behind me, and I hear the clink of metal.
His belt.
“No.” The word comes out as a whimper. “No, no, no—”
He holds the belt in his grip, looming over me. There’s so much darkness in his eyes. “This is just a precaution. Your ankle is sore, but I know what you’re like, Mina. You’ll find a way to get downstairs anyway. You’re determined, and I love that about you, but right now I need to do this for us.”
He moves quickly and efficiently. The leather of his belt wraps around my arms, pinning them to my sides. I struggle, but it’s useless. He’s too strong, and my ankle screams in protest every time I try to kick.
“Cristiano, stop. Please.”
He reaches for his T-shirt.
“I can’t have you screaming,” he says apologetically. “Someone might hear.”
“Don’t—”
The fabric presses against my mouth, muffling my cries. He ties it behind my head, gentle despite everything, careful not to pull my hair.
I’m sobbing now, tears soaking into the makeshift gag. This is a nightmare. This has to be a nightmare.
But the belt around my arms is real. The T-shirt tight around my face is real, and so is the cold dread in my stomach. He shifts me on the bed, arranging me almost tenderly so I’m more comfortable, and then he reaches for the ice pack and places it carefully back on my ankle.
“I’ll be back soon,” he murmurs, “and then everything will be better. You’ll see.”
He stands up from the bed and reaches for his jeans.
I watch him through blurry tears as he pulls them on, his movements calm and methodical. Like he hasn’t just tied me up and gagged me. He’s off to kill his father like this is all perfectly normal.
His back is to me as he moves toward the door, and I can see the marks I left there, vivid red scratches from my nails, running from his shoulders to his waist. Marks I made in passion, while I thought we were really becoming something.
He pauses at the door and looks back at me. “I love you, Mina. Everything I do, I do for you.”
And then he’s gone. The door closes behind him.
I scream against my gag until my throat is on fire, but no one hears me. I thought I’d finally found the real Cristiano, the sweet, vulnerable boy I would have given my heart to. But this is who he really is. His true face that he’s already shown me once before.
He didn’t fool me into thinking he’d changed.
I fooled myself.