Chapter 5
MADALINA
I take a shower and regain my pride before I decide to take a tour of my new home. Growing up I always had the biggest house out of all my real-life friends, but this place is on a different level. Dario’s mansion is huge, there are at least six spare rooms, that I’ve counted, a gym, a cinema room, and an indoor pool. It takes me almost an hour to get all the way around it, and once I’m done exploring I slump myself onto the couch and wonder what the hell I’m supposed to do now.
Dario is wrong if he thinks I’m going to devote my life to being a mother to his children. I have a life of my own, I have friends, and I should be studying at college like most other girls my age.
I may have become his wife in order to help my family, but I never agreed to become a baby machine. The final words he spoke to me after he dumped his load inside me, for a second time, keep repeating over and over in my head and it makes me wonder if what he wants to do to me is some kind of punishment.
It would make sense, our fathers forced this marriage, and Dario, being the selfish asshole that he is, is taking that out on me. He wants me to suffer the ultimate consequence of it .
Things could be so different if he would just show me a little kindness. We could at least make our situation tolerable. But Dario has already proven that he is incapable of reason.
He’s made it clear how he wants our relationship to be. But he’s in for a shock if he thinks that’s how this marriage is going to work.
I decide to rebel and take out my phone so I can text my best friend, Lorna. Her family doesn’t belong to any factions or have ridiculous traditions like arranged marriages. Her father’s a used car salesman and her mother’s a teacher. I figure a little normal, combined with some retail therapy, will pass the time and make me feel much better. She quickly texts me back with a thumbs up after I’ve sent her the address, and I smile to myself victoriously as I head back upstairs to get changed. It’s half an hour later when she calls me to tell me she’s at the gate, and with great satisfaction I head straight to my husband's office and knock on the door.
“Come in.” He sounds pissed off by the distraction, and when I do as he says and slip inside, I see that I was right. He’s pissed.
“That’s my friend at the gate, we’re going shopping.” I do my best to hide the smirk that’s twitching on my lips.
Dario presses the button on the desk phone beside him.
“You can let Miss Allen through,” he instructs one of his henchmen, before taking out his mobile and tapping out a text.
“How did you–” I give up on even finishing my question. Of course, he fucking knows who she is, this place is like a fortress. There's probably more staff here than they have at the White House.
He gets up and calmly takes his wallet out of the suit jacket that’s hanging on the back of his chair then he holds out his credit card like he expects me to take it .
“I have money,” I explain, watching his jaw tighten and knowing that my response irritates him.
“You mean you have your f ather’s money.” There’s a nasty clip in his tone. “Your father is no longer responsible for you, I am.” His eyes meet mine and he narrows them like he’s getting a kick out of that control. I ignore the fact his words make the space between my legs twitch.
“Fine.” I snatch the damn thing out of his hand, and he does nothing to hide the smirk on his face when he opens his office door and guides me out into the hall.
“Lucian, have a car and a security team ready to take Mrs. DeMarco and her friend into the city,” he orders the guard standing by the front door.
“That's not necessary, Lorna has a car,” I explain, not missing the way Lucian looks to the floor and sniggers.
“Your na?vety is as endearing as it is concerning.” Dario shakes his head, and when I feel my cheeks flush from the humiliation it makes my fingers ball into a fist that I want to launch at his face.
“I have many enemies, Madalina.” He takes my hand in his and raises it up between us. “The second I put this ring on your finger, those enemies become your enemies too.”
“Another one of your responsibilities ,” I come back at him, snatching my hand away and turning toward the door. Dario moves fast, gripping my jaw tight in his fingers, the same way he did while he was fucking me, and I hate that it puts a warm tingle over my skin.
“I’m your fucking husband , everything concerning you is my responsibility. So get used to it.” He expels the words through his teeth like he detests them as much as I do and when the doorbell chimes, he releases me just as fast as he grabbed me. His head nods to his guard, permitting him to answer it before his stare returns to me .
“Wow, this place is incredible.” Lorna breezes inside, not seeming at all intimidated by the huge guard who she passes on her way in, or noticing the tension between myself and my husband. She’s far too distracted by the decorative art that’s on the huge ceiling above her.
“Come on, let's go. Lucian is driving us.” I side-eye Dario as I storm past him toward the door, grabbing my friend's hand and dragging her out with me.
It’s four hours later and we’ve spent far too much money. I’ve bought things I doubt I’ll ever wear, but I’ve done exactly as I’ve been told. I used Dario’s card and tested it until I got bored. I’m sure the thing doesn’t have a limit.
Now that we’re resting in the busy, popular cocktail bar that Lorna’s always wanted to visit, I decide to get real with her.
“Do you ever think about having kids?” I ask, almost having to shout to be heard over all the other conversations going on around us. It’s quarter after five, and I swear half the people in the city have met here after work.
“Yes, in like twenty years.” Lorna huffs a laugh, her eyes flicking between me and the cute guy over by the bar who’s been looking over ever since he came in. “So, how’s married life treating you?” She tucks her hair behind her ear, keeping her focus on him.
“In all honesty, it’s awful, but then I wasn’t expecting anything less.” I take a sip of the margarita this place is supposedly famous for. It’s good, but not as good as the ones Serena makes at home. I’m going to miss her pitchers of margaritas and the movie nights we used to have .
“Here’s to not having to show any ID.” Lorna raises her glass and giggles.
“No one’s going to ID a girl who turns up in a car like that one, with a wedding ring on her finger.” My eyes glance out the window onto the street where Lucian is standing dutifully by the town car he’s chauffeured us around in all day. Having him drive us here was bad enough, but the two huge bodyguards Dario sent along in the car that followed, who are now seated at the next table to us, seems a little overkill.
“These were sent from the gentleman at the bar.” The waitress smiles as she places a fresh tray of drinks in front of us and Lorna wastes no time, raising one up to them and showing her appreciation.
“I told you he was checking you out.” I grin at Lorna, before raising my own glass to the man at the bar in gratitude. I’m about to take a sip when the drink gets snatched out of my hand and one of Dario’s guards places it back on the tray.
“Please tell the gentleman that Dario DeMarco’s wife can purchase her own drinks.” He stares across at the man threateningly, and the waitress nods, immediately taking the tray and retreating back to the bar.
“That was rude.” I look up at him.
“That was necessary,” he responds sarcastically before returning to his seat.
“That, right there, is how married life is treating me.” I look back to Lorna who has her mouth and eyes stretched wide open, clearly stunned by what just happened.
It’s getting dusk when we pull up at the house and I leave Dario’s henchmen to carry in my bags while I walk Lorna to her car and kiss her goodbye.
“Please visit, anytime.” I roll my eyes sarcastically. “I mean it. I can see myself being very lonely here.” The smile drops off my face.
“I had fun today. Maybe we could have lunch on Friday when I finish my lectures?” she suggests.
“I’d like that.” I kiss her cheek and watch her drive off before heading toward the house, to be greeted at the door by my husband.
“Hello, dear.” I breeze past him and head straight for the stairs. It’s exhausting work trying to max out someone’s credit card and my feet are killing me.
“Where do you think you're going?” he calls after me.
“To freshen up before dinner.” I stop and turn around, feeling a little powerful since I’m standing three steps up from him and feeling a little tipsy.
“You said nothing about going to a bar and drinking.” His eyes are ice cold but still handsome.
“It was a spontaneous decision. I didn’t think I’d have to run it past you.” I rest my hand on the banister to steady myself.
“Madalina, expect to have to run everything past me.” He looks angry, and I’ll admit it’s a hot look on him, perhaps that's why I’m constantly thinking of ways that I can rile him.
“Well, that’s not how I work. I’m not a little girl anymore. My daddy sold me out to get what he wanted, so I guess that makes me grown up enough to make my own choices.”
“Wrong.” Dario marches toward me, tossing my body over his shoulders and carrying me up the rest of the stairs toward the bedroom.
“Dario, put me down! What are you doing?” I slam my fists against his back and try to struggle free, but the hold he has on me is too tight. He tosses me onto the mattress and when I look up at him I let him see how angry I am.
“Take off the dress,” he tells me, sliding his hand through his hair and looking frustrated.
“What? No. We’re fighting. We’re not going to have sex while we fight.” I shake my head
“Wrong again. We don’t fight. I say, you do. You disobey, you get punished,” he informs me, unbuckling his belt and sliding it from the loops of his pants.
“Why do you have to be so intolerable? Don’t you see that we’re both in the same situation here?” I stare back at him, trying to find just a shred of empathy in the man.
“Why are you still wearing that dress?” He ignores my question as he folds his belt in half then roughly grips at my hips so he can flip me over and position me on all fours.
I feel his fist grip the fabric of my dress and drag it up my back, exposing my skin as his warm, wet tongue follows its trail up my spine and his teeth sink into my shoulder.
“You will learn that it is wrong to test me,” he warns, wrapping his strong arm under my body and fisting one of my tits in his palm.
“I wasn’t testing you. I was having a few drinks with a friend,” I inform him, trying not to find pleasure in the way he rolls my nipple between his fingers as he squeezes me.
“It is not safe for the wife of a DeMarco to go out drinking in bars.” He slides his hand up to grip my neck then uses it to drag my body up so my back rests against his chest.
“Well, I appreciate your concern.” I try to be clever as he pulls my dress up over my shoulders. It’s a struggle to hide my relief when his hand slides into the front of my panties and he starts to stroke the ache he’s put there.
“You don’t deserve any pleasure, Madalina,” he growls into my ear.
“So, why are you giving it to me?” I smart back at him, already feeling the sensation start to build inside me. The one that makes me crave his cock like a drug.
“You're right.” He quickly pulls away, forcing me onto all fours again and getting off the bed.
“I think three will be enough,” he tells me, and when I glance over my shoulder and see the belt still in his hand I freeze.
“No, you can’t seriously think that?—”
“Ouch!” I feel the first sting when the leather thrashes against my ass cheek, and the way my clit still throbs from his touch puts a strange shiver over my body.
“Say it.” He rubs his palm over the red mark he’s made on my skin as if he’s soothing it.
“Say what?” I’m confused, not just by his behavior, but by the effect it has on me. My pussy is wet to the point of dripping.
“Tell me that you hate me.” His other hand slides around my hip and touches me where I need it. “Tell me you fucking hate me while I make you come.”
“I hate you.” I keep my neck stretched around so I can make sure he knows I mean it, and he smiles before dealing me another thrash of his belt.
“You hate me, but you love my pain.” He laughs, flicking his finger over my sensitive flesh and making all the tension in my body unbearable.
“Look at you, so needy and desperate.” He shakes his head almost like he’s disappointed as he takes his hand away from me and starts walking toward the door, taking his belt with him.
“Wait!” I call after him, and I’m shocked at what comes out of my own mouth when I speak. “You said three.”
Dario turns around slowly looking equally as shocked as I am. My insides are pulsing, desperate for him to finish what he started and I detest myself for it.
I watch him frown in confusion and take a moment to think before he steps back toward the bed.
“Lie on your back,” he whispers, working his hand around the leather and then making it snap. I keep my eyes focused on his and do as he says. I don’t know what's come over me but suddenly I feel the need to give him what he needs. “Open your legs, Madalina, show me my pussy.” Again, I give in to his demand, ignoring any humiliation as I spread my legs.
“Look at you, I can almost see that clit of yours pulsing.”
“I hate you,” I whisper, knowing that for some reason he likes to hear me say it.
I don’t have time to wonder what will come next, because the sting from the belt as it connects with my sensitive flesh is all too consuming, and the scream gets caught in my throat when it’s followed by something warm, wet, and soothing. Opening my eyes I look between my legs and see that Dario has dropped to his knees, his head is buried between my legs and his tongue is what’s soothing the sting he just caused.
This is far beyond anything else that's happened between us. It feels far too intimate like a line’s been crossed. His eyes remain locked on mine as he strokes me with his tongue, holding my thighs firm in his hands to keep them apart. I’m speechless as I watch him because the hate is missing from his eyes, instead, I see something different, something that could almost resemble affection.
“Pain tastes as good on you as it looks,” he pauses to tell me, before his mouth works some more magic and has me battling with my pride not to come.
Slowly he crawls his way up my body, leaving a void between my legs, until he pushes his slacks off his hips and lets his hard, heavy cock rest against my throbbing clit.
“Please.” I roll my hips against his trying to get some friction.
“Say it again.” He cups his hand under my jaw and holds me steady.
“I hate you,” I tell him, meaning every word because whatever he’s doing to me seems cruel and calculated .
It’s only been one day since I became his wife and already I don’t know myself.
“Yes, you hate me so bad, that your pussy is desperate to take my cock.” He lets it stroke between my folds agonizingly slowly, and since I have no comeback, I just enjoy the way it feels.
“You hate me so much that you want me to fill this needy, little pussy all the way up.” He lets his tip tease my entrance, and the sting his belt just caused only seems to heighten all my senses.
“Say it again.”
“I hate yo—” He slams inside me in one punishing thrust that takes the breath out of me as well as the words.
“Keep saying it,” he growls in my ear as he starts to fuck me, hard and unforgivingly, and I continue to give him what he needs.
“I hate you.” The words come out weaker every time I say them. But I keep them coming as his grip on my hips gets firmer and his thrusts become more desperate.
I can’t hold it off, the power he commands from my body is too great. I come for him, but I continue to tell him that I hate him. I tell him until his body stills and he groans his own pleasure into my ear.
“Take it.” His fingertips indent my flesh as he holds me tight against him. “Take all that fucking cum and hate me a little bit more.” I can feel his thumb digging into my hip bone and the tension in his fingers doesn’t let up as his cock pulses inside me, filling me with his seed. I don’t know how long he holds me for, but his cock remains hard and the kiss he places on my cheek almost feels like a reward.