She whimpered as I drew back, gliding through her tender and swollen tissue that hadn’t been ready for me. "Scream my name when you come," I ordered, pounding into her furiously in my need for all the men in my village to hear it.
For them to know exactly who owned her.
She didn't say my name, defying me in one small way that only made me more determined to pull the word from her mouth as I fucked her. She grunted, taking what I had to give as I knew she always would. She was my perfect fit, the perfect match designed just for me.
I kissed her, forcing her to taste, to acknowledge that our connection went deeper than simple biology. That the emotion behind it was there, pulsating beneath the primal fucking in the dirt. I’d break her body down until her walls disappeared and she let me inside her head.
Then I’d own that too.
When I drew back, I grabbed her legs behind the knees and lifted until she bent in half for me. With her ankles around my shoulders, I pounded deep inside her with hard and fast strokes that stole a whimper from her each time I struck the end of her.
"Fuck!" she groaned, clenching her eyes closed as I fucked her harder than I probably should have in my desperation to hear my name as she came.
"Say my fucking name," I ordered again, shifting the angle of my hips as I drove inside her. “Whose pussy is this?” My dick hit her g-spot, bringing a shocked expression to her face as I dragged my head over it and worked her higher and higher into her orgasm.
"Fuck you," she moaned. Smirking down at her, I pressed forward until her legs touched her chest and she heaved out a ragged sigh. Leaning my weight over her, I took her bottom lip between my teeth as I shoved inside her in a downward motion. There was no reprieve with the ground at her back and my weight crashing into the top of her, forcing her to take everything I gave without escape.
"Soon, I'll lay you out like this and fuck your ass," I murmured against her mouth. She gasped into my space, reaching out to grab my forearms in her grip as her nails dug into my flesh and she tried to bleed me. "My name, Princesa."
Those nails dug harder as I drew back and moved inside her more gently, pulling her away from her orgasm until she gave me what I wanted. She whimpered, desperation taking over her features.
When she couldn't take it any longer, she whimpered my name in defeat. "Rafael, please."
Leaning forward, I kissed her and fucked her in harder furious drags of my head over that spot inside her that drove her as wild as I felt in my anger with her. She came, spasming around my cock while I kept pounding her through it. After a few more minutes of enjoying her as she panted beneath me, I followed her over the edge.
Filling her with my release once again, which she glared down at in the space between her legs as I pulled out. She didn't protest as I drew her into my arms and carried her back down the hill and toward the bed that waited for us. No one dared to look at her half naked form as I made my way home.
Mi princesa was for my eyes alone.
She was too exhausted to care about anything other than going back to sleep, but I knew the argument regarding condoms would come soon enough.
She'd see it my way in time.
9
Isa
I forced my eyes open slowly, the coolness of the bed at my side alerting me to the lack of Rafael’s presence even before they’d fully focused. I stretched a hand over despite my best intentions, touching his pillow and dragging it closer.
His scent filled my lungs as I inhaled, then shoved it away immediately after in my anger at my own ridiculousness. Instead of feeling grateful that he was gone, I was left with an unfortunate emptiness within me that I wishfully attributed to the newfound reality that I wouldn’t be able to get off the island.
That escape would be impossible without help, because the last I’d checked I’d never even been on a boat before coming to Ibiza. Let alone driven one.
Sitting up and dragging a hand over my forehead, I squinted at the fabric bandage that touched my skin as my eyes adjusted to the bright sun shining in the windows. With a swallow, I pulled the fabric back slowly to reveal the torn mess of skin on my hand. Spots had already scabbed over where the scrapes went deeper, puncture wounds in the areas that the glass from the lantern had stabbed me.
There was no doubt certain spots would scar, but the majority of the wounds on my hands were superficial. Nothing but the road burn of falling on the street. Painful and stinging, but without lasting effect. I pulled the blanket off my body, unraveling the bandage around my knees as well and feeling satisfied that the covering wasn't necessary for those.
A glance down to my feet made me shudder. The repeated abuse they'd suffered since waking up in Rafael's bedroom meant they were a torn mess beneath the bandage, confirmed by the pain as Rafael had cleaned them when we came back in the middle of the night.
I wanted to hate him, but it felt impossible to do it when he took care of me nearly as well as he scared me.
I knew the most logical thing would be for me to spend the next couple of days healing, but I'd never been one to lounge in a bed. I'd been a terrible hospital patient after the accident, driving my nurses crazy with my insistence that I couldn't be stationary. Nothing had changed in the years that had passed since then.
I stood from the bed, making my way into the closet and grabbing a comfortable dress to pull on over my head. My back stung as the fabric slid over it, a reminder of the night before and the brutality of Rafael’s thrusts inside me as he claimed me in the dirt.
It was filthy. It was instinctual, as if his very being called to him to mate and to make me his in a way that was animalistic.
As if the clean lines of his suit and the breathtakingly handsome face were an elaborate disguise for the beast that lived within him. He knew what words to say. He knew exactly how to lure me right into his trap.
And all along, I’d been nothing but his prey.
The man I’d known hadn’t ever really existed. He’d made me fall in love with a gentleman tinged with darkness, when he was really the devil in a suit.
I grabbed a pair of lacy underwear out of the drawer in the closet, scowling at all the delicate fabrics and feminine items meant more for him than they could ever be for me. Tugging them up my legs, I nearly tumbled over in my rising frustration.
I wasn’t a doll he could dress up in designer clothes and smooth silks, waiting to strip me down when he wanted to fuck me. I wasn’t a toy to be locked away in his bedroom until he felt like gracing me with his presence.
After using the bathroom and rebandaging the wounds on my feet, I made my way to the door and tried to turn the knob. It refused to turn, locked from the outside.
Fury rose in my throat, knowing there was no reason to lock me in a bedroom when the entire island was a prison in itself. His cruelty knew no bounds. I banged the side of my fists against the door, screaming his name in the hopes that he was close enough to hear me.
Maybe I could annoy him until he let me go. That was always a possibility. If I couldn’t force myself to smother him in his sleep, then perhaps I could just smother him until he grew tired of my demanding antics.
My eyes turned to the corner, glaring at the camera I’d seen sitting where the wall touched the ceiling the day before. I hauled the end table up off the floor where it had landed when I’d thrown it, positioning it beneath the camera before turning back to the bed.
Tearing the pillowcase off his pillow, I stood on the table and stretched to swing the fabric over the camera. When it hung from it the best I could manage, I carefully lowered myself to the floor and moved to stare out the window and wait.
If nothing else, I’d find out how often Rafael watched me on the cameras. The sun had long since risen over the water, leaving me with a breathtaking view of the sparkling Mediterranean. It only made me miss my view of the neighbor’s house a mere feet away back home.
Our cramped and crowded house seemed far more welcoming than all the luxury that surrounded me, knowin
g I was just another piece of property to Rafael. My family loved me. They would miss me as soon as they realized I wasn’t coming back.
That was what a home really was, and I hated all the times I’d taken it for granted.
He didn’t make me wait for long before the locks clicked on the bedroom door and he stepped into the room. A man followed at his heels, carrying the chess board I recognized from Ibiza into the space. He didn’t so much as glance at me as he deposited it onto the end table and moved it to the front of the sofa.
Rafael dismissed him with a nod after he set the pieces on the board carefully, lining them all up and depositing the bag into his back pocket. Once the door was closed and the man was gone from sight, Rafael grabbed the cushioned chair from beside the bed and dragged it into the little sitting area. Claiming the side with the black pieces, he slowly unbuttoned his suit jacket and draped it over the back of the chair.
I didn’t know where he’d gone during the morning while I slept, but he was back to the immaculate appearance of a businessman. Dropping into the seat carefully, he turned playful eyes my way after raising his brow at the covered camera. “Did you really think that was the only one I had in here?”
I swallowed back my fury, leaning against the window as I faced him and looked around the room. With none of the others easily visible, there would be no chance of me knowing if any corners were safe from prying eyes. No chance of me obscuring his view of me when he insisted on locking me away.
“Why would you need cameras in your bedroom at all?” I asked, narrowing my eyes on his intent gaze. The thought that maybe I wasn’t the first woman he’d watched on those cameras unsettled me, turning what the darkest part of me hoped was a twisted obsession into something far more common. If Rafael was just another powerful man with a complex for raping innocent young women, then I was nothing more than a statistic.
A pawn in a game that countless women had already lost.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as his pointer finger touched the pawn with the fissure on the top. The same piece he’d moved first in our very first game. “Does it still bother you to think of other women in my bed, mi princesa?”
“Of course not,” I snarled, denying the jealousy coursing through me. That forbidden part of me wanted to rise up in response to the taunt, to claim him in the way he’d tried to make me his alone. But he wasn’t mine to claim.
A woman couldn’t tame a nightmare who wore skin to disguise the monster within.
“They’re for you,” Rafael said, lifting the pawn into his hand and nodding his head toward the sofa across from me and inviting me to take a seat in it without another word. “So that I can watch you when I can’t be with you. No other woman has been in this bed, Princesa,” he said, setting the pawn back down in its designated starting position.
“Please,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes to the ceiling as I stepped away from the window and took the seat on the sofa. I swallowed back the traumatic response that tried to well up within me being so close to the chess pieces he’d tortured me with. I perched on the edge of the cushion, dropping my hands to wrap around the edges and sinking my nails into the smooth fabric to center myself against the need to lash out. “You expect me to believe that?”
“I’m a man,” he said with a shrug. “I am no virgin, but you are the first woman I’ve ever desired for longer than it took to get off. That is why you angered me when you insinuated this was nothing but sex. Had that been the case, our relationship would have been over before it began.”
“This isn’t a relationship!” I argued. “That term insinuates that I have a choice.”
Rafael smirked, adjusting his legs as he watched me with darkening eyes. Every time I spoke, every opportunity I took to argue, the monster showed in the lines of his face a little more. From the tense line of his jaw to the purse of his lips and narrowing of his eyes, he wore the monster under his skin more visibly.
He had nothing left to hide.
“You’re right,” he conceded, shocking me into silence. My mouth dropped open as I stared at him. “A relationship isn’t the best term to describe what is between us.”
I swallowed back my fear as his lips curved into a challenging grin. I opened my mouth to speak, floundering for what to say in the moments where I was entirely caught off guard by his agreement. I hadn’t anticipated it.
“You’re to be my wife, after all,” he said, the line of his teeth showing between his lips as his smile broadened. “I believe that makes engagement a much more appropriate term than relationship. I’ve never particularly thought of myself as your boyfriend. I find the title doesn’t appeal to me much. Too common for my place in your life.”
I stared at him in horror, trying to will my breathing to return to normal as I swallowed back my scream. “What is wrong with you?”
“Husband feels more up to par with who I am to you. Yours, irreversibly,” he said, ignoring my question. “As to what is wrong with me: I saw something I wanted. I maneuvered the pieces to take it for myself. You were outmatched long before you even knew we were playing, mi princesa.”
“Divorce exists,” I spat. “Nothing is irreversible.”
“It is for you,” he replied, sweeping out a hand to the board. “I didn’t come here to debate the semantics of our engagement. Play a game with me,” he said.
“I’d rather stab you with the pieces, my fiancé,” I said, giving him a saccharine smile.
His eyes dropped to my lips, watching them form the words as something clicked into place on his face. He ran his tongue over his teeth, studying me thoughtfully. “Husband will be better,” he said.
I glared at him, turning my face to the chessboard in front of me and considering my options. “What do you say we raise the stakes?” I asked finally, even knowing the chances of winning were next to nothing. In our previous games, Rafe moved pieces around the board like a professional. Cunning and manipulative, he barely had to glance at the game to know how to trap me.
“Let me guess: if you win, I have to let you go free?” he asked, watching as I nodded my confirmation. It couldn’t come as a surprise, given my freedom was all that I wanted from him. “And what do I get if I win, mi princesa?” he murmured, tipping his lips up with his amusement as he leaned forward and into my space across the small table. With his eyes so close to mine and studying me intently, I swallowed as I tried to come up with a response.
With something I could stand to give him.
“I’ll stop trying to run,” I offered with a swallow.
He chuckled darkly, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest as his teeth sank into his plump bottom lip and he grinned at me. “You can try to run all you want,” he said with a shrug. “What difference does it make to me when there’s nowhere for you to go?”
I clenched my eyes closed, trying to rack my brain for something that I could offer to the man who would only take what I didn’t give anyway. There was nothing I had that wasn’t already at his mercy. “What do you want?” I asked through gritted teeth.
I opened my eyes as he reached out a hand suddenly, catching my chin and tipping my head up to look at him. His thumb dragged over my bottom lip, pulling it to the side harshly before sliding into my mouth. I bit down on the offending appendage, sinking my teeth into his flesh as he chuckled. “I want your mouth, mi princesa. I want you on your knees in front of me, worshiping my cock with your pretty pink tongue without fear that you’ll bite me.”
He retracted his thumb, dragging my lip away from my teeth as he drew his entire hand away. “It’s your move, Princesa,” he said, sitting back in his chair. His hands touched the arms of it, his posture relaxed as my body vibrated with need. The memory of the bite of the shower floor against my knees the first time I took him in my mouth set my skin on fire. My cheeks heated as I leaned forward, touching a pawn and staring at the board intently. I started with the King’s Pawn Opening, the irony not lost on me.
That was w
hat I was to Rafael despite his words about a King protecting his Queen, but it was also one of the few openings he’d taught me in the little time I’d known him. He grinned as if he could sense my realization, the knowledge that I would never win against him.
It was foolish to even try. Chess wasn’t a game that was mastered through beginner’s luck, but by studying the board and strategy relentlessly.
I watched him counter with his Sicilian Defense. “Who taught you to play?” I asked, making the effort to take his fixation off the game as I studied it intently and moved my own piece.
“My father,” he said. “Initially anyway. He didn’t appreciate it when I started winning, so I played with my uncle and cousins in the summers when I would visit them. Sebastian was a worthy opponent,” he said as we continued playing.
“Who did you play when you were home?” I asked, my nerves rising higher. I couldn’t distract him from the game, because he never paid any attention to it. He simply went through the motions as if he’d already won, and I knew it to be true.
I heaved out a sigh, glaring at the pieces as if they were to blame for my stupid wager. I might not have been free without it, but I wouldn’t be settled between his legs and trying to fight off the attraction I knew I shouldn’t feel as I gave him the one part of my body he wouldn’t dare to take by force.
He stared at my mouth as if he could already feel it wrapped around him, leaning forward and looking down at the board more fully for the first time. “No one regularly. Most men tire of losing fairly quickly.”
He moved his piece, turning his eyes up to mine with a grin. “Check.” I turned my eyes down to the board, finally realizing just how long he’d drawn out our previous games past what he could have done. His lack of focus on the game wasn’t because he didn’t want to play, but to give me the opportunity to think and learn.
Fuck.
I touched my hand to my bishop, watching as he pursed his lips. Taking my hand off the piece hastily, I reached for my Queen and moved her. He took it ruthlessly, announcing that if I’d had any doubt, the game was as good as done.
Until Forever Ends: A Dark Mafia Romance Page 6
