by Gina Whitney
Little one.
It was what he’d called me before adopting the name Tesoro for me. It’d never bothered me before. However, that was before Scarface. That was before that sadistic motherfucker said those same words to me. Now, no matter who said it, all I could think about was Zeke—his slimy yellow teeth and the stench of his breath as he called me “little one.”
I didn’t cower. I didn’t cry. And I certainly had no desire to numb this wrath that unfurled within me. Blinding rage. That’s what it was. It consumed me—a quick shot of steroids to my muscles.
My hand lifted and flew through the air, connecting with the side of Stefan’s face. I didn’t have a chance to feel remorse as he recoiled, covering his cheek with his palm. His eyes narrowed, but he backed up, clearly seeing something in my expression that no one had ever seen before. I didn’t stop there, though. I continued my attack, frantically hitting him with some of the moves I’d been taught in my Krav Maga class, cursing and muttering things under my breath I didn’t understand. But apparently he did, because instead of coming at me, he held my wrists and calmly subdued my shaking body.
“Tesoro,” he whispered against my burning cheeks, repeating his name for me until I calmed down. “What was that? What happened?” He pulled his face away a few inches and waited until my eyes met his. “You kept calling me Zeke. What was that all about? Do you still see him when you look at me?”
I’d offended him. I could tell by his creased brow and pained eyes. It was the same look he’d given me after torturing me with the vibrator that day I’d snuck into his room. But that wasn’t what this was about. I didn’t see Zeke. I wasn’t scared of Stefan. I couldn’t explain it, so I only shook my head, keeping my lips pressed together as I breathed through my nose.
“What was it? What did I do that brought this on?”
“Little one,” I forced out, the words burning my throat.
“He called you that?” An emotion passed over his face, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. He was angry, but I couldn’t be sure if it was toward me or the dead motherfucker.
“Yes,” I said, finding my voice again. I shoved him in his chest, pushing him away from me. The rage still very much alive within me, even after Stefan’s attempts at calming me. “He took everything from me. My power. My control. My choices. He violated me, Stefan. But the worst part of it all, is that he took your words, the name you once called me, and tainted them. I loathe those two words. It makes me fucking angry. Furious.”
Without moving, he nodded once, glancing at the floor before meeting my eyes again. “They make you feel powerless,” he said, to which I nodded. “They make you angry, and hearing someone call you that victimizes you all over again.”
“I know that’s not what you meant by it,” I said, hoping to give him some comfort.
“But it doesn’t change the fact that I just unwillingly stripped you of your control. You know I would never do that, Tesoro. I want you to hand me yourself on a silver fucking platter. I never want to force it from your grasp.”
“I know.”
“But it doesn’t change how you feel right now.” He wasn’t asking me questions or looking for my validation in his assumptions. He’d only stated the obvious without an ounce of anger or betrayal in his tone. “I thought you felt better after going to the gym with me? Did that not help?”
“Yes…it did help. A lot. But that was one class.”
“But you plan to go back again, right?”
I nodded, knowing more than ever in that moment how badly I needed it.
“Right now, tell me what you want me to do to fix this. I can’t kill him. You’ve already done that. You know he’s not coming back. You know I’ll never let what he did to you ever happen again. But right now, right this minute, tell me what you need to make you feel like you have a choice. Do you want to spar? Hit me? Kick me? Tell me what you need from me and I’ll do it.”
His tender and loving words caused the room to spin. “I don’t want to spar.”
“Well, you need a sense of stability in your own body. It’s my job to protect you. And I can see in your eyes right now that you need something. So, tell me,” he said, stepping into me once more, “what do you need from me? Name it. Anything. And I’ll do it. For you. For us.”
I pressed my back against the wall behind me, flexing my hips in his direction. With a fighting smile on my lips, I said, “Eat my pussy.” I knew it wasn’t what he’d expected to hear me say, but it was the truth. He was right when he’d said I needed to feel powerful in my own body again, in control…and right now, this was it. Zeke had stripped me sexually, and in order to get that control back, it had to be like this…with Stefan.
A satisfied and eager smile lit his features as he fell to his knees before me. He may have done what I asked, but he did it Stefan-style, roughly tugging my cotton pants down my legs and gripping the material tight in his fists at my ankles, keeping me from moving. His free hand came down hard on the side of my bare thigh, leaving a sting and beautiful red handprint behind.
With his eyes locked on mine, he took his middle finger into his mouth and sucked on it for a second before pushing his hand between my barely-opened legs. I could feel my juices gather at the apex of my thighs in anticipation of what he’d do with that finger. His eyes glistened with lust as his finger ran through my wet folds, teasing my drenched opening. But then he did something I hadn’t expected. In true Stefan fashion, he continued the trail of his finger past my entrance, applying pressure against my backside, which pushed my pelvis forward. Oh my.
His mouth latched onto my aching clit at the exact moment his lubricated finger breached the tight ring in my ass, causing a flutter of sensations to attack me at once. My knees nearly buckled, but between his manmade restraints on my ankles and his hand on my ass, he kept me from falling over.
I moaned, bucking my hips against his face, needing to ride his tongue harder. And just before reaching my peak, he pinched my clit between his teeth, growling against my sex. I couldn’t take it anymore, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling him up. He was reluctant at first, but once I had his head in a vice-like grip between my hands, he relented and let go, standing to meet my face.
I didn’t give him a chance to kiss me before I squatted down, kicking my leggings off and unfastening his slacks at the same time. My movements were sloppy, rushed, because I needed to taste him more than I needed my next breath. Once I had the zipper down, his cock sprang to life, meeting my lips, glistening with pre-cum. I salivated at the sight before taking him to the back of my throat.
He began to thrust his hips, none to gently, and forced me to hold him in as far as he’d fit. I swallowed around the head, hearing his groan above me. With his balls in my hand, I could feel them tighten, and I knew he was close to exploding. I wanted him inside of me, but couldn’t fight my need to taste his pleasure. Luckily, I didn’t have to make that choice before he fisted my hair and pulled me to my feet.
His movements were hurried, frenzied, as desperate as my own as he spun me around, keeping his hand twisted in my thick locks, giving him something to use as a leash on me. With a hand in the middle of my back, he bent me over, causing me to slap my palms against the wall in order to catch myself. He took a step forward, pressing my cheek against the cold drywall while he wrapped his other arm around my waist, pulling my hips into his. It was desperate and hot the way he anchored my head to the wall with his hand in my hair while anchoring my pussy to him with his arm around my waist. Many contorted positions he’d had me in, but this one was by far the best. My new favorite.
My core ached for him, throbbed to feel him consume me. But I didn’t have to wait long. He used the arm around my waist to lift me off my feet, pressing my face further into the wall. My scalp began to sting with the way his grip and our position tugged at my hair, but I didn’t dare say anything, just moaned and enjoyed the sharp burn as stands of hair ripped from my head. Then, with my feet off the floor, he drove
into me, pounding his pubic bone against my ass as he pushed in as far as he could.
It was pleasure and pain—my addiction at its finest hour. The problem was I didn’t know where it all started for me…my initial need. Needs and wants are insatiable. I was a bottomless pit of constant want for him, and there was no amount of gratification that would take it away. That left me vulnerable and weak. Both were on the top of my list of feelings I detested most. Once a need is met, the desire for more will grow, never being sated. Could I ever get enough of him? Be enough?
As he filled me over and over again, another realization flashed behind my closed eyes. Desire often went hand in hand with anger. Fear does not happen to us, it comes through us. And right now, it was being driven into me with the speed of a locomotive. With every filthy curse he gritted out, his hand fisted harder, causing starbursts behind my eyes. My brain and pussy united on a pleasure-seeking mission. My body had two reactive responses: a need to fight and resist the pain, and a desire to cave in my pursuit of pleasure. I was one pathetic paradox of a mind fuck for his thieving, orgasm-inducing cock. So many toxic emotions whirled through my brain. But the one thing I never felt conflicted about was my need and want of him.
He carefully lowered me to the floor and turned me around, accessing my flushed face. Satisfied, he grabbed my ass and squeezed with purpose before lifting me into the position he needed for reentry, wrapping my legs around his waist. He teased my core with the head of his cock, spreading my juices back and forth. His movements slowed at my entrance, and then backs of my thighs rested on his as he bottomed out in one thrust. Slow and rhythmic, his cock drove into me, making me hiss through gritted teeth. My core searched for more, needing a faster pace, needing harsher thrusts, needing…more.
Fuck, I wanted everything he could give me, but this was always about him and our erotic dance of torment.
With each exquisite move, my desperation grew, but every time I tried to push my pussy to meet his cock, he slowed even further, making my ache unbearable. I was frantic enough to touch myself, but our position made it almost impossible, so I refrained. His tongue searched for my nipple until he latched on. I tried to still myself, quiet my mind, opening myself up to the sensations around me as he played with my body expertly. I was so wet I could feel my juices dripping down my ass and onto his thighs. The wet sound of his heavy balls as they slapped my pussy with each tortured drive forward ran rampant in the thick air around us. A whimper escaped my mouth unbidden.
He stilled, releasing my hard nipple. “Do you think I’m being too soft on you, Tesoro?” His words felt like gravel against my ear and I clenched around his girth, a growl of pleasure escaping his own lips. He was a tricky, tricky fuck. This I knew as sure as my impending orgasm. He sought certainty in my words, and I needed to be careful with my insecurity.
“Yes, I do.” My words released in a breathy and fraught manner. However, it was the truth. I’d given him the trust he craved. Wanted. Needed. I cannot deny the truth was bittersweet on my tongue, leaving me fragile and wanton. I blew out a long breath and waited, pushing down my own anxiety and fear.
He nipped my ear and held it tight between his teeth.
“I need you to fuck me,” I said quickly, confidently.
He responded with the pounding force of his thrust that all but put me through the wall. He reached up and twisted my aching nipple between the rough pads of his fingers. Then moved to the other, pulling and pinching, causing me to buck my hips at the burning sensations his fingers produced. It was the perfect balance of pain and pleasure only Stefan could give me.
He fucked me hard and fast, using the wall and his thighs for balance. I drowned in the ache that morphed into gratification—erotic agony that gave me delectation warred for supremacy within me until they became indistinguishable. I was no longer aware of the difference between them.
Exhausted, my arms folded around his neck, desperate for his closeness. However, he bent down, throwing each leg over his forearms. He straightened back up, leveraging my weight evenly as he spread me even wider.
“Eyes on me, Tesoro.”
I felt his words more than I heard them. I leaned back against the cold, hard wall. He wanted to watch me come—as much as I wanted to watch him empty himself into me. The burn in my thighs was nothing compared to the ache my heart felt watching him pleasure me with rapt fascination.
He licked his lips as he studied where our two bodies joined, where he drove his cock in and out of me. His pupils expanded and his features darkened wickedly when he saw the white coating left behind by my body. Electricity fired between us, the instinctive acknowledgment that we both fit together perfectly. This was more than intimacy. There was love, respect, devotion…and nothing else mattered.
In this moment, I was lost in the feel of him inside me, the hunger that clung to his face, and the uneven primal breathing between us. I fought to keep my eyes on his, but the ecstasy of what he made me feel became too great, and they unwillingly closed. The backs of my eyelids became a motion picture as I fell into the perfection of him. I’d grown so consumed by the bliss, lost to my own screams, that when I came, I barely registered the pain in my breast. I opened my eyes, blinking a few times. A perfect crescent-shaped indentation on my skin had been left behind by his teeth. He bit me as he rode out his own orgasm. I had been so lost that the pain didn’t register. The world grew dark, and I became weightless as I clung to him. If time still existed, I knew nothing of it—I was completely and utterly spent. Movement was not an option.
“You are so lovely, and mine, my love,” he said, taking in his marks on my breast.
I barely had the strength to blink, and for a few seconds, something about the choice of his words made me feel I should fight harder to move. Say something in response. I didn’t fight. I took all that he gave me. He was mine, and I was his. I would fight for him, and he for me. I absorbed the pain, consumed it…storing in deep within my cells.
“I feel so awesome right now,” I blurted out, my filter lost at the moment.
His mouth curved into a wicked smile with a hint of teasing as he coaxed my legs down, carefully making sure I had my bearings before releasing me. “I want you to do something for me,” he said while lifting his pants off the floor.
“Anything. Everything.” I grabbed his hand and linked our fingers, keeping my gaze on his so he could see the honesty in my words. I’d meant it, and he needed to know just how much.
“Stay the night with me, Tesoro,” he softly begged, bringing my fingers to his lips. The impact of his words decimated me as I stared into his vulnerable eyes. I had seen this side of him a few times before. However, it wasn’t often, and it broke my fucking heart that it had to be today. Yes, my voice roared in my head. But I couldn’t. Fuck. I’d snuck out of my house, Daddy having no idea I’d even left. Which meant I also had to sneak back in.
“I climbed out of my window to get here. Daddy still thinks I’m sequestered in my room.”
His brow rose with an humorous expression.
“I need a favor,” I said, almost pleading. “Well, two.” I held up my deuces.
“I’ll enjoy the repayment,” he murmured, teasing, and I pushed his arm playfully as I walked past.
“I bet.” I peeked up through my bangs, shrugging on my leggings. “I need to know your plan with Matty. And I need help getting back into my house.”
The smirk on his face made my heart jump a little as he kicked back off his slacks before he’d fully fastened them in place. “I have no problem helping you get home, convict. We’ll take my bike, drop you off discreetly around the corner. Then I’ll create a distraction. I’m not worried,” he said, walking to his walk-in closet.
Did he say bike? Since when did Stefan own a bike?
I was pissed that he’d seemed to blow off my question about Matty. I wanted answers, yet he had a knack for dismissing my inquiries. I wanted to press him again about it, needing to know where my brother was, but the sound o
f shuffling boxes in his closet left me still with curiosity. When he came out with a black motorcycle jacket on, black t-shirt, blue jeans, and a helmet tucked under his arm, I’d forgotten all about my quest for answers.
“Safety first.” He held up the black helmet with a sexy smirk on his face.
“I’m not wearing that ugly, shitty helmet,” I said, squaring my shoulders in defiance and folding my arms across my chest like a shield.
“Shitty?” A hint of amusement flashed in his eyes. “First of all…it’s brand new. I bought it for you, and you’re wearing it.” He handed me the helmet with a small silver spike on top. What in the fuck of all fucks? Why was the spike so small? Where was his? Did he wear one? “Put it on, Tesoro.” His tone became stern as he moved to his kitchen.
I tucked the ugly helmet under my arm, limping to keep up with his long stride. His jeans fit perfectly, pulling in all the right places. Studying the way he walked, the way his clothes showed off his ass, pure sex appeal, made it hard to focus on the lingering pain in my ankle from the other night or the burn that ran through my inner thighs. By the time I caught up to him, he was already waiting by the elevator.
“Why are you rushing?” Did he have another meeting? Was it Matty? I hated being in the dark. Hated it. My stomach churned, creating a bitter acid. “I thought you wanted me to stay the night, and now you’re acting like you can’t get me home fast enough.”
“You said you snuck out. I don’t need your father worrying about your whereabouts as well.” His voice was cold and detached, very matter-of-fact, which sent a shiver up my spine and doubt straight into my heart.
The elevator doors opened and we got in. His fingers deftly tapped away on his phone, completely oblivious to my apprehension. I didn’t like this at all. I never felt further away from him than I did in the small space of this elevator. “Why do you always do that?” I asked, still holding on to the stupid helmet.
