“You can, and you will. You’ll keep coming until you tell me; Until you can’t walk, or until I’ve decided you’ve been punished enough. Now take my cock in your ass.” He thrusts harder, and my eyes roll to the back of my head.
With his cock in my ass, and his fingers on my clit, I’m overwhelmed. The feeling is so intense that I don’t know how long I can take it.
Then he grabs a fistful of hair and tugs my head backward.
Like an addict, I crave his touch, and when he pinches my clit again, the pain and pleasure collide so profoundly. I come one last time. It’s quick and powerful like a punch, but then it leaves my clit so sensitive that it almost hurts.
No, not almost… it hurts. It’s too much. I try to pull away, try to close my thighs, but Julian’s fingers are relentless. My whole body jerks as if I’m getting zapped, but Julian just holds me down more, his hand on the back of my neck, pressing me down into the mattress.
I feel like I’m about to implode, and that’s when I know he’s won.
“The beach house… he’ll be at the beach house,” I cry out.
His fingers leave my clit, and relief washes over me a moment before the guilt hits me.
He crests a moment later, filling my ass with his sticky semen and collapsing on top of me.
Kissing my shoulder, he whispers, “Good girl.”
“We used to go there when I was a kid,” I admit shamefully. “Please, don’t kill him.”
“I have to.”
“Please, don’t, I can’t be with the man who kills the only family I have left.”
“And I can’t let the man live who killed mine.”
34
Julian
At my words, she goes completely silent. I didn’t even mean to say it. My confession just slipped out. That doesn’t take away the honesty of my words, though.
Pushing up and off her body, I move to sit on the edge of the bed. My cock is still hard, sliding out of her tight little asshole. She doesn’t move as I get up and start undoing her handcuffs. Free, she continues to lie on her stomach even as I go into the bathroom and retrieve a washcloth to clean her up.
She whimpers as I move the warm cloth between her legs but doesn’t say anything. When she is clean, I roll her over onto her back, so I can look at her face. Her eyes collide with mine, and I see the whirlwind of emotions reflecting back at me. Inside her depths, I could drown a thousand times over. She wears her emotions like a sweater for the world to see.
Confusion, apprehension, fear. She is digesting what I told her. Trying to wrap her mind around her father killing someone I loved.
“He killed your family?” she finally asks.
“He killed my mother… and the baby she was carrying.”
Her big blues go wide and tears well over, cascading down the sides of her cheeks. I watch the droplets, hating that she is crying for me.
“I can’t imagine him doing something like that.”
Anger rears its ugly head. “I can assure you, he did. He killed her. He even admitted to it.” I’m trying my best not to be enraged over the fact that she is defending her father, but it’s hard, so hard, especially after the way he ran when she fell, if he was half the man she thinks he is, he would’ve come to her rescue. “He’s not a good man, Elena,” I add.
“Neither are you,” she rebuts, and I can’t argue with that.
“I know I’m not. I’ve never claimed to be either. Still, there are lines even I won’t cross. I would never kill a pregnant woman. There is no point in arguing about this. Your father will die, whether you like it or not, and I’ll be the one to end him.”
Anguish washes over her face. “Maybe it’s a mistake? Or maybe it was an accident?”
“It wasn’t. Your father is not the man you think he is. You know he told everyone your mother died in a car crash? He’s a liar and a murderer. And don’t forget that he sold you to me, a man that he knows hates him.”
“Yes, and you bought me! Let’s not forget that, either. You bought me like an item on the shelf in the store. Then you locked me in this room and chained me to your bed! You kill people, you lie, and steal. You’re just as much of a criminal as he is.”
Every muscle in my body quakes, I’m so fucking angry. Angry with her for taking his side. Angry with her father for killing my mother. And angry with myself for letting all of this happen. Unfortunately for Elena, she is the only one here to direct my anger at.
“You can say just about anything you fucking want to me, but do not fucking compare me to him! I’m nothing like your father,” I say through clenched teeth. My hands are balled up into fists so tight, my nails dig into my palms painfully to ebb some of the rage away.
Her beautiful face goes ghostly pale, and her mouth pops open like she is about to say something, but no sound comes out. There is nothing for her to say, and even if there was, I’m past the point of reasoning.
“I don’t care what you say. I will kill your piece of shit, father. I will marry you, and you will be mine. You will obey me and do as I say, or I will chain you to the bed for the rest of your fucking life. Don’t tempt me, Elena. If you want to see how big of a monster I can be, then just try and stop me.”
Grabbing my pants off the floor, I slip into them and storm out of the room, slamming the door with a ferociousness that makes the walls shake. My fingers shake, and rage boils over as I slide the lock into place and walk down the hall and away from her. I need a breather to get away before I do something I can’t take back.
After pounding my fists against the punching bag in the gym for an hour and taking a cold shower in the guest room, I feel somewhat composed.
I was harsh with Elena earlier, maybe too harsh, but I needed her to see her father for who he truly was. I need her to accept that I will be the one to end her father’s life, and I refuse to feel bad about that. She should hate him for leaving her lying limp against the floor at the bottom of the stairs, for selling her to me, but it seems she is far more loyal than I ever expected her to be.
In time, she will understand.
Before I go back to the room, I stop at my office and call Father Petro. It’s late, and I know my call might wake him, but I don’t have the patience to wait until tomorrow morning to call and discuss our union of marriage.
“Hello?” he answers after it rings for what seems like a long time.
“Father Petro, this is Julian Moretti. I apologize for the late-night call, but I need you to come to my estate tomorrow morning. The wedding you were to perform three weeks ago is going to be taking place. It can’t wait any longer.”
“I understand,” he murmurs, and I can almost see him nodding his head through the phone. “I’ll be there at nine in the morning, is that good?”
“Perfect. Have a good night, Father.” Ending the call, I feel a little bit lighter than before. Scribbling on a sticky note, I head back down the stairs and stop in the kitchen and leave a note for Celeste and Marie to be prepared for a ceremony on the terrace right before breakfast. I already informed Lucca about the changes, which means everything is set in place.