Chapter 5 Isabella
Chapter five
Isabella
My eyes trail over the same paragraph for the umpteenth time, and I still don’t understand shit. Fuck. I’m distracted…by Dominic and his shenanigans.
I hold my breath as my mind flashes back to the events of yesterday. I felt fear…in a way I never have.
How could I be scared of him and still want his hands feeling every inch of my body?
I clench my thighs together, reliving the feeling of his body against mine.
No. Memories like that are best kept at bay to avoid jumping him at any given chance. Not to mention, since I arrived, he’s been treating me like an object. A mere accessory.
And he invaded my privacy!
Embarrassment flushes my cheeks. He’d read my notes—the one thing I vowed to never let anyone see. Because as psychotic as it sounds, that was one of the many ways I coped.
Pretending I had a boyfriend… or at least someone who cared.
Ugh. If only I’d closed the tab when I was done updating my letters to Julian.
“Ma’am, are you okay? Do you need something?”
I whirl my head to see Sharon, the maid. Sometimes I forget she’s always beside me. But I don’t blame her, Dominic must have given her and the other staff some sort of twisted rules.
“No, why did you ask?” I say gently.
“Y-you’ve been staring at that page since, so I just thought…” she trails off, a little nervous. I recognize the look in her eyes. She’s unsure if she’s pissed me off.
I hold her gaze softly for a while. My welfare and following me wherever I go must be part of her job description.
“It’s okay,” I say, returning my eyes to the magnificent landscape in front of me.
A garden filled with beautiful flowers and a few lush, full trees. It feels like the embodiment of peace. Like a little getaway, even within the mansion.
Cool evening breeze blows, swaying the swing I’m sitting on. The finely polished piece of wood creaks below my weight, and as I continue to take in the scenery, thoughts of Father come crawling back.
I let out a deep sigh, reaching into my pocket to bring out the bracelet my father gave me. The conversation is still fresh in my mind. Forgiveness?
After all these years of heartbreak and vile treatment, I’m just expected to forgive? I’m expected to forgive the man who made me hate my very existence? The man who ruined me even before the world could?
I wonder what Melanie’s stance is on this. Will she come running for forgiveness, too?
And what about Elena? Which makes me think, where is she right now? Who’s she with? And is she happy with how all of this turned out?
But of course it ends well for her. It always does.
She gets to be treated nicely by our parents and also gets a free ticket out of marrying this cold-as-stone mafia king. She just always has it so damn easy.
When the thoughts start to get overwhelming, I adjust my glasses and focus my attention on the romance book I’m reading.
All it takes is a few seconds, and I’m completely immersed in the plot again.
Birds chirp as I sink my feet deeper in the grass. I turn page after page until I’m done with the book.
Wait. I’m done?! How didn’t I realize this sooner? I was already more than halfway through and now it’s done. Well, I need book two. Like right now!
Standing up, I shoot Sharon a sweet smile as I make my way inside. I feel a little bad for her, she stands while I sit all day, but the last time I asked her to take a seat, she refused and mumbled how it would do her harm to sit on duty.
What did I expect? I mean it was literally difficult to force a name out of the girl.
Once I ascend the stairs and am close to the brown oak doors of his office, my heart starts racing in my chest. I want to ask him for…permission to visit the library, but I have a feeling it won’t go over well.
Releasing a breath, I knock once and enter when I hear a gruff “ Come in.”
Tattooed arms peeking beneath a simple black singlet are the first things that greet my vision. I again feel that strange warm sensation in my belly as I take in the fit of his singlet on his wide shoulders and lean, chiseled chest.
There’s a glass of wine on his desk and a burnt out cigar in the ashtray before him.
He’s hunched behind his desk, a laptop in front of him and a tall pile of paper arranged on a corner of the desk as he signs a single piece. Then he takes another piece of paper from the pile, signs and slides it to the other corner, repeating the cycle.
His muscles flex with each movement. I quickly unplug my eyes from his body.
“Didn’t I tell you it’s rude to stare?” His voice suddenly interrupts me, deep and groggy, like an early morning voice.
A certain shiver pricks my spine as I recall the first time he used those words.
Not now, Bella.
“I—”
“What?”
Then I come back to my senses. Does he always have to interrupt me?
“Well, I was just saying it. Thank you for interrupting.” I clear my throat and manage to sound bold despite my raging thoughts.
His lips flatten in a thin, unamused line, then he drops his pen and hits a single finger against his desk. The sound comes out sharp against the silence, nervousness suddenly creeping in when he narrows a darkened gaze on me.
How this man makes me feel so many things all at once should be studied in itself.
“Umm…I…uh—”
“I’m busy. Get to the point,” he grinds out, jaw locking tight.
I frown. “I want to go to the library for—”
“No,” he replies bluntly.
Frustration bubbles in my chest as I resist the urge to scream. I swear if he cuts me off one more fucking time.
“For books,” I continue anyway, my voice much firmer as I take a few steps toward his position.
He cocks a brow that makes my step falter, but doesn’t say anything. When I’m tired of the uncomfortable silence, I release a sigh.
“Look, I-I really need this okay,” I breathe, holding his empty gaze. “Please just let me go and I’ll be back in a few hours.” My voice wavers.
It’s not just about the series anymore. That book was the last one I had and I need to keep reading to avoid treading the thin line between insanity and depression.
The way he scans me with a devouring gaze sends an unwelcome heat down my core.
“Find another way to entertain yourself,” he replies in a bored tone, but the curl of his lips is anything but bored. It’s almost as if he is enjoying this. What a psycho!
I scoff, irritated at myself for thinking he could be just a little sensible.
“Books for me aren’t just entertainment. They’re a way to keep my sanity intact in this goddamn cage.”
“You made your point. Done?” His face is blank, but his chest dips, like he’s saying the words with restraint. He picks up the cigar, lights it, exhales and looks at me as if I were a joke.
“Well, not everyone has the grit to live in a cold, empty mansion with nothing but stones in human form.”
He slams his fist against the table, gaze sharpening into something dangerous.
“I don’t appreciate your cleverly worded insult, little wife.”
His endearment stutters my breath, and I hate it. Fuck. I hate that I’m flustered when I should be livid!
“Then fucking let me go!” I’m damn near yanking my hair out when he speaks.
“My office isn’t a dumpster for you to offload your frustrations. Watch your tone.” His voice is rough.
I bark out a dry laughter, staring accusingly at him. “I wonder who the cause of my frustration is.”
“Get. Out,” he hisses, eyes narrowing on mine in a heated stare.
I match the intensity in his eyes. “Not until you grant me your damn permission.”
“Don’t test my limits.”
“Please…Dominic,” I give him an exaggerated eye roll, “the world doesn’t revolve around you and your shitty rules!”
Suddenly, he pushes the chair back and rises to his full, towering height. I gulp, my confidence breaking apart under his hooded gaze. I’m supposed to hold his gaze and show defiance, but my eyes betray me, drifting down his lean body before trailing back upward to his eyes.
He walks toward me like a predator stalking his prey. My pulse quickens, and on instinct I take a few steps back.
His breath grows heavier against my face, leaving a thread of space between us. “You don’t get to run your smart mouth, give me a boner and then walk out untouched, little wife,” he rumbles.
I gasp at the raw primal sound, heat pooling between my thighs. God, this man has no right to rile me, unravel me, and make me feel achingly alive all at the same time.
“Let me go,” I whisper, but it comes out as a whimper.
His lips twist into a dark smile. “Oh, Princess, you don’t want me to.”
Before I can fire back, his mouth crashes against mine. I lose all sense of reasoning. His manly musk overwhelms me as I return the kiss fiercely, the anger somehow blurring into lust and coursing through me like adrenaline.
Our tongues battle for dominance, a battle that I know I’ll never win. He bites into my bottom lip, just enough to draw blood, and I nearly moan into his mouth.
“I hate you,” I groan when I regain a fraction of common sense. He gropes my tits, my nipples hardening under his touch.
“No. You don’t, Princess,” he rumbles, turning me around and lifting me until we get to the desk. Then he bends me over. “You’ve been longing to have my cock buried deep inside you since that night. Admit it.”
He hoists my skirt up to reveal my lacy panties along with my ass.
I release something between a whimper and a grunt. “You wish.”
His grip tightens on my waist, holding me steady. Before I can process what happens next, his calloused hand lands on my ass, leaving a sharp sting in its wake.
“Fuck!” I bite my lips, my pussy already dripping wet.
He purrs, and goosebumps litter my skin at the thought of him savoring my reddened ass.
“We’ll see who begs for mercy after this.” He runs his fingers from my covered pussy to my butt cheeks.
My body trembles as I feel my hair being bunched up in his hands. “Please…” I groan, my ass and core aching for any sort of contact.
“Please what, Princess?” His voice is barely a whisper but I can hear the amusement in his voice. And honestly I don’t care. The only thing I can think of right now is how badly I want him to take me.
When I don’t reply, he slaps hard again. My pussy spurts tears of pleasure but my ass stings with pain. I writhe, trying to bare my pussy for a touch but he holds my waist tighter against the desk.
“Please fuck me,” I groan, feeling agitated.
He growls, “Not so easy, Princess. You got yourself into this with that sharp mouth of yours. Now, you’ll learn to face the consequences.”
I release a needy whimper.
“Get on your knees and put that mouth to good use,” he orders, slipping his hands through my clothes and bra to squeeze my nipples.
I can’t say no. Instantly I turn, sinking to my knees just as he yanks his briefs down.
His cock springs free, thick and pulsing, the thoughts of what it would do to me clouding my mind. His fingers run through my hair, brushing strands away from my face as he guides his cock to my lips, slowly pushing it in.
Holding him in my hands, I purse my lips, hollow my throat, and push deeper, struggling to take his length into my mouth. I barely manage half before he forces my head lower, and I choke, drool spilling down my chin and onto my tits.
His hips snap forward, thrusting into my mouth at an animalistic pace, and my gagging does nothing but spur him on as his grip tightens in my hair. My throat begins to sting, my eyes water, but I can’t decide if it’s pain or pleasure.
“You look so fucking beautiful sucking me like this, Princess,” he rasps, voice trembling. I can tell he’s close to his orgasm.
Just when I start sucking faster, he pulls out his cock, helps me up and turns me over the desk. Without wasting time he rips my panties off and slips into me, thrusting with urgency.
“Dominic!” I scream, my nails digging into the desk at the intensity of his thrusts. His strokes are hard, painful yet pleasurable.
He lands another spank on my ass. “That’s right, Princess, let the world hear how loud you scream my name when I fuck you.”
My eyes shut tight, pleasure spreading through my body. He pins my hands behind me and angles himself even deeper, hitting spots so deep in me I didn’t know existed.
“Fuck, I’m going to—”
“Damn right! Cum around my dick, Princess!” He inhales sharply.
Guttural moans spill from my lips as rabid grunts pull from his.
Within seconds, my legs give way as I writhe against the desk, moaning recklessly. He gives one final wild thrust, and a devilish grunt follows. I feel his hot liquid on my ass, then shortly after his finger trailing my spine.
My mind is scattered, insides are a wreck, but I hear him say, “You have my permission.”