Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
LAbrIA
His mouth collided into mine. I tried to pull away, but he had me in his firm grip. I tried to bite his lips, but his mouth was holding me hostage. His hard, forced kisses were more like a punishment than passion.
I should have fought harder. I should have pushed him away, but my body was already weak from the kidnapping and whatever drugs I inhaled.
I was able to get my hands up high enough to form a barrier between us.
My hands on his shirt seemed to curl into the fabric as he pulled me into his rock-hard chest.
My stomach fluttered without my consent.
I hated myself for it. I hated the way my lips parted for him automatically, and the way my body remembered his touch like it was yesterday instead of weeks ago.
This was wrong. I knew it was wrong. But I couldn’t stop the heat spreading through me.
I couldn’t deny the desire that had been simmering beneath my anger.
“Tell me again how much you hate me,” Lord growled against my mouth, his hands moving from my arms to grip my waist.
I gasped as he spun me in a circle and pinned me up against the wall.
“Lord, stop.” I was so proud I could get those two words up.
“Shut the fuck up!” he commanded roughly and then slapped me so hard on the side of my cheek I saw stars.
His hands found the hem of my skirt, yanking it upward with such force I heard a seam tear. I tried to stop him, but he was too fast and too strong.
I could scream, so I did. “Lord! No!”
I was able to get one arm free. I reached up and clawed at his cheek. I broke skin and hoped I drew blood. My act of violence was met with his hand groping my panties and pulling them so hard I could hear them rip.
My heart was beating out of my chest. I moaned into his mouth as his fingers entered me roughly and lifted me up on my toes like a ballerina.
“Look how wet you are already,” he said, pushing his fingers deeper inside me. “Is this how you like it?”
“Lord, you’re hurting me.” I cried out even though I was wetter than I had been in a long time.
Lord chuckled in a sinister way. “Hurt? I’m hurting you?”
“Yes, please don’t do this.” I cried out. My body buckled over when he slid his thumb against my clit.
Oh, my God. Did I still want him? My brain said no, but my pussy had a mind of its own.
Despite everything, the betrayal, the lies, and a good man waiting for me at home with a cooked meal my body hummed with a familiar desire that my mind couldn’t control.
I hated that he could read me so easily, even after weeks apart.
Lord still knew exactly which buttons to push to make me respond to him in all the ways that mattered.
“Let go of me,” I repeated, but the command lacked conviction even to my own ears.
“Not until you admit it.” Lord’s fingers tightened slightly on my arm. “Tell me you miss me. Tell me he doesn’t satisfy you like I do.”
I twisted in his grasp, trying to break free, but Lord was stronger than me. He was a man. “What I do with Maurizio is none of your business.” I protested even though I could feel my body leaking.
“When you spread your legs for my cousin, it becomes my business.” His voice dropped lower. The bass in his voice sent shivers down my spine.
“You cheated on me, Lord.”
Lord’s face pulled back to look me dead in my grill. His blue eyes were burning with an intensity that made me hold my breath. “There was no cheating. There has only ever been you.”
“Liar,” I whispered, but doubt crept in despite my certainty. Could I have misunderstood what I’d seen?
He slammed his palm against the wall beside my head, making me flinch. “I have never cheated on you. Not once! Not ever!”
“Liar!” I probably shouldn’t have yelled right in his face, but he was really lying in my face like I was some stupid dumb bitch.
Lord released me. I was able to lower myself down to my flat feet. We should there locked in each other’s murderous gaze. His hands were flat on the wall near both of my ears.
I tried to duck under his arm. I tried to escape the cage he’d created with his body, but Lord moved faster. He grabbed both my wrists in one fluid motion and pinned them above my head. The action pressed his chest against mine. I felt the hard planes of his body.
“You didn’t even try to come after me.” I accused as I struggled against his unyielding hold.
“I’m going to make you come after me.” He whispered in my ear, and his words were explicitly sexual.
My body was betraying me yet again. I started to remember his touch, his taste, his smell.
I closed my eyes and got a flash of my lips wrapped around the head of his dick.
I hated the effect he had on me. When I opened my eyes, he brushed his thumb across my cheekbone with surprising gentleness. I knew I should pull away. I didn’t.
“I hate you,” I whispered again, and he used this opportunity to push his fingers in my mouth. I could taste my pussy on his fingers, and I wanted to cry because what the fuck was happening?
His hands gripped my neck, holding me exactly where he wanted me. I struggled for a moment. He didn’t squeeze. He just held me there. his palm was warm against my racing pulse. His other hand ripped at the buttons of my blouse, sending them scattering across the floor.
My hands pushed against his chest, but my resistance crumbled under the weight of my own treacherous desire.
“Does he touch you like this?” He growled against my ear. “Does he make you wet just by looking at you?”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. My breath came in ragged gasps as his mouth traveled down my neck. His teeth scraped against my skin hard enough to mark me. That was intentional. Lord marking his territory.
“Answer me,” he demanded, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise me.
“No,” I gasped as his hand found its way back under my skirt.
A triumphant smile curved his lips. “I know.”
He spun me around. My cheek pressed against the cool wall as he unzipped my skirt.
He yanked it down and let it pool at my ankles.
His hands were rough on my skin. He was claiming me rather than caressing me.
I should’ve put some effort into stopping him.
I should have found my dignity, my self-respect, or the anger I had stored up.
Instead, I arched into his touch like a starving woman at Thanksgiving dinner.
“I could make you come right here,” Lord whispered. His breath was hot against my ear as his fingers slipped inside my ripped panties. “You’re always so wet for me.”
He was right. My body responded to him as if it had been programmed to, like the weeks apart had never happened. Like I hadn’t left him. Like he hadn’t betrayed me with that Lolita bitch.
Lolita. The name broke through the haze of desire. I tried to turn, to face him, to regain some control.
“Don’t,” he warned, holding me in place against the wall. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
Fuck! He already hurt me! Over and over and over again.
He turned me around to face him again. His blue eyes blazed with an intensity that stole my breath. Tears burned behind my eyelids. They spilled out despite my efforts to hold them back.
“You’re crying,” he observed the tears that I couldn’t hold back.
Something maniacal flashed in his eyes. He lifted me effortlessly, carrying me to the dining table in the center of the room. The cold marble shocked my overheated skin as he laid me down. He had me stripped down to my bra and torn panties.
I couldn’t look at him. I turned my head to the lights of the Vegas Strip glittering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Lord stood between my legs, removing his suit jacket and tie with deliberate slowness.
I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want to see his fucking face.
But after a minute, I looked up at him. His blonde hair fell across his forehead as he unbuttoned his shirt to reveal the muscled torso I’d spent countless nights pressed against.
“You’re going to remember my cock every time he looks at you.” He warned, hooking his fingers into my panties and tearing them all the way off with one sharp movement.
The sound of ripping fabric was followed by the metallic slide of his belt buckle. My heart hammered in my chest.
“Tell me you want me.” He demanded.
When I didn’t respond, he pulled my bra down below my breasts and then slapped the shit out of my titty. The pain lifted my body off the table.
“Say it.” Lord gripped my thighs. His deep voice was deadly soft but absolutely unyielding. “Say it.”
My lips parted as a sob caught in my throat, but not from pain. From the white-hot ache of humiliation and want. “I want you,” I whispered.
“I didn’t hear you.”
Lord taunted me. He spread my legs wider, pressing the length of his huge cock against me. I hadn’t even seen him remove his pants. He was hard already, obscenely so, and the heat of him seared through what little dignity I had left.
“I want you.” I repeated, louder this time. My entire body was burning with shame.
“That’s better.” He yanked me forward by my hips, so my ass was hanging off the edge of the table.
The cold marble bit into my shoulder blades, grounding me in reality as he lined himself up to enter me.
He never broke eye contact. He didn’t give me time to get ready.
He just pushed into me with one slow, brutal thrust.
I cried out, not from pain, but from the shock of being filled so completely, so suddenly.
My nails scraped against the table. I searched for something to hold on to as he started to move inside me.
There was nothing gentle about this. Each stroke was a penance.
He was teaching me a lesson for leaving him.
He was forcing me to remember who I belonged to.
“Is this what you need to act like you've got some sense?”