by Bella J.
I had to let her see. I had to let her realize that if she had seen anything but utter darkness in me, she was wrong. She was so very wrong. I was a monster. A madman who had the power to rule an empire, and the iniquity to ruin a fragile little thing like her.
When the whip lashed against the skin of her back, her screams resounding around me, I loved it. I loved it so fucking much, I wanted to tear out of the skin I wore—the skin which hid who I really was. I wanted to finally break free and be the monster I knew I had always been.
But her cries also transported me back to the night when my wickedness came within inches of ruining my life. I was there. In that room with Rachel hanging in the reverse prayer position, tied by ropes I had knotted around her body. It took me fucking hours—hours my hands spent working those ropes while my mind replayed the scene where another man had his cock in her. Scenes where she posed for him, submitted for him, giving him everything she had given me. For hours, the rage simmered until finally, it erupted, and I lost control just like I had with Doe…until she brought me back. She pulled me from the nightmare of my past with one simple word.
Master.
When I heard her say that word, reality came crashing down like a mountain slide of regret.
Now, here I was, on the ground, flat on my fucking ass while clutching her in my arms. God, she was perfect. Everything about her was perfect—even her brokenness. Perfectly broken, and beautifully ruined.
While I felt her lips on mine and tasted her sorrow, that was when I realized why…why I was so determined to keep her. To never let her go. Because she was the innocence my soul lacked. She was the light my darkness craved. Ever since she stormed into my life, she gave me another reason to breathe, another reason to have a fucking heartbeat other than this pointless pursuit of power and control I had been on my entire goddamn life. I was breathing for her. I woke up in the mornings with a determination to keep her safe, to protect her.
Her. It was all her.
“I’m sorry, Doe. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Shhh.” Her palm remained on my cheek.
I touched my forehead to hers. “I can’t even think what I would have done—”
“Don’t. Please, sir.”
“No.” I shook my head. “Don’t call me that. Don’t call me sir.”
Her beautiful dark eyes met mine. “What should I call you?”
I moved her hair over her shoulder, exposing her beautifully scarred ear. “Call me Antonio.” And then I kissed her again. Lips so warm and soft, untainted—it was all I needed. All I wanted. Each and every kiss she was willing to give me.
Our tongues moved leisurely, dancing like lovers—tasting, savoring, claiming. There was no amount of power in the world that would make me tear my lips from hers. I poured every ounce of regret into that kiss—sorry for what I’ve done to her. Sorry for hurting her, for breaking the little trust she had invested in me.
“Antonio,” she whispered, the sound of my name on her lips causing my heart to swell.
“Wrap your arms around my shoulders. I need to take care of you.”
I stood, carrying her in my arms before gently laying her on the bed. When she winced from the pain of her back touching the sheets, I cursed. “God, I’m sorry.”
She smiled. She actually fucking smiled. “I’ve been through worse.”
“Jesus, Doe. Just…stay here.”
I rushed to the bathroom, put a towel under the faucet while grabbing some aloe cream from the cabinet.
“Turn around.” I sat down on the bed, and when I saw the red lashes on her back, I cursed myself to fucking hell.
Gently, I placed the warm, wet towel on her back. Even though she didn’t make a sound, I knew it had to have stung. “You don’t have to be brave, Doe. I know I hurt you.”
“It’s really not that bad.”
Every second I took to tend to her, softly smoothing the aloe onto her skin, I spent damning myself, hating myself for what I’d done. But I thanked God she had managed to bring me back, to stop me from doing much worse. I tried to stroke her red skin with as much tenderness as possible, taking my time, wishing I could take away every ounce of pain she had endured during her entire life. But I couldn’t.
She let out a soft whimper.
“Doe, I’m sorry. There are no words.”
“It’s not that.”
I frowned, continuing the leisurely strokes of my fingers across her skin.
She sniffed softly. “No man has ever done this for me before. I have never had anyone help me to ease away the pain.”
Dear God, Lord Jesus. I clenched my jaw, the veins in my hands bulging with a need to burn every fucker who had ever done her wrong—even if that meant burning myself.
“This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.” She turned on her side to look at me, her eyes glistening with tears. “Thank you.”
At that moment, her sorrow, her pain, it pulled me in. And because I had no words, all I could do was kiss her as tenderly as any man could kiss a fragile heart like her. With gentle strokes of my tongue, I tasted her lips, all around her mouth.
“Antonio,” she whispered. “Antonio.”
***
Doe
I felt his regret in every touch, every kiss. The way his hands softly rubbed my skin, I could feel his need to take away my pain. No one had ever felt the need to take away my pain. No one had ever tried to heal me, to console me. But here was this big, strong, powerful man who wanted nothing more than to help me. Me. A nobody whose existence had been shattered, leaving behind nothing but broken glass.
And his name, God, it was such a beautiful name, and I loved being able to hear it from my lips.
“Antonio.”
He smiled against my mouth. “I love hearing you say it.”
“I love saying it. Antonio.” Feeling bold, I placed my arms around his neck. “Would you—”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’ve already hurt you too much and I can’t promise I’ll be able to stay in control with you.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“Doe, don’t tempt me. I’ll only fuck up.”
I shifted, bringing my naked body in full view for him to see. “I’ve never…” I bit my tongue, feeling the heat spread across my cheeks. “I’ve never been made love to.”
“Oh, God.” His head lolled down, and I saw the way his muscles twitched in his upper arms. “Don’t, Doe.”
Shame caused the heat of my cheeks to move down my neck. “I’m sorry.” Pulling my arms back, I let out a breath when he grabbed my wrists.
“I want you. I want inside this body of yours so fucking much, it’s fucking with my head, Doe.”
I started to breathe rapidly, but remained silent, keeping my eyes on his, witnessing his hunger intensify as his eyes grew darker with lust. Wilder.
“After what happened, how could you trust me with your body?”
I licked my lips. “I don’t know. I just do.” In an act of submission, I eased my arms back while he continued to hold my wrists until my hands were next to my head—surrendering.
A groan left his lips. “I can’t promise—”
“I don’t want promises. I want you.”
His gaze traveled down my neck, caressing my skin all the way down to my breasts. Licking his lips, I sucked in a breath, the pain on my back long forgotten. All I felt now was desire, need, a yearning to feel him, to let him claim me in every way.
He leaned down toward my chest. “Dio mi pedoni.” God forgive me. Warm lips touched my breast, sucking a nipple into his mouth, causing me to arch my back. His tongue teased the hard nub, sending what felt like waves of energy all throughout my body. The grip he had on my wrists tightened, his mouth sucking my nipple harder, then letting go of it with a pop.
He looked up at me. “If I claim you now, there’s no going back. Then you’re mine in every way. Mine to demand. And mine to please. So I’ll only ask this once…are you sure?”
&
nbsp; With eyes wide open, a heart yearning to be loved, and a body burning to be sated, I whispered, “Yes.”
His mouth was on mine, hard and heady, while he slipped off his pants with one hand. Kissing, sucking, lapping, claiming, our mouths were joined together as if nothing could tear us apart.
The bed dipped as he got onto his knees, and I admired his tall frame towering over me. I had never seen anything as beautiful as he was—majestic, powerful, primal. His body was hard, toned, muscles shredded in all the right places. My hands itched to touch, my lips craving to taste. Antonio was truly magnificent, every ounce of the king I knew he was.
With teasing strokes, he dragged his fingers down the middle of my breasts, achingly slow all the way over my stomach, down…down…oh, God…his fingers touched the spot where it ached the most. Throbbing, needing, my body wept with desire as he expertly swirled his finger around my clit.
“Spread your legs.” Which I did. “I want you to come first.” A finger eased inside me and I moaned, my shoulders pulling off the mattress. My eyes fell closed, the pleasure consuming me with a raw need to explode.
I felt his palm on my breast, his fingers teasing and tugging my nipple.
In and out, his finger continued, the pad of his thumb circling my clit.
He gave my nipple a slight pinch. “When you come, I want you to say my name. Do you understand? I want my name on your lips when the pleasure takes you.”
Faster, his finger moved in and out of me, his thumb working my clit harder and harder, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful.
I felt it start at my toes, the heat gradually moving up my spine, possessing me, filling me, causing my core to clench tight until…
“My name, Doe. Say it.”
“Oh, God…Antonio.” His name left my lips just as pleasure exploded through my body, crashing in waves against every bone. My mind shattered, my legs quivering as the climax ripped me apart.
On and on, the ecstasy seemed never-ending, moving through every vein. I was still high when I felt him move in between my legs, his finger still working my pussy, allowing the pleasure to continue.
“Antonio,” I breathed out when I felt the heat of his skin against mine. Sweat beaded across my chest and new life forced its way into my pleasure when I felt his weight on top of me.
His finger slipped out of me and I felt the head of his cock nudge against my entrance. “Open your eyes.”
I did, staring straight into his—swirls of lust and need creating the most beautiful shades of earthy tones in his brown eyes. “There’s no going back, Doe. Are you ready?”
I bit my bottom lip and nodded.
“Put your arms around my neck, hold onto me, and don’t close your eyes. I want you to see me. See that it’s me and no one else.” The gentleness in his words was so disarming, emotionally moving, and as I wrapped my arms around him, my gaze on his, I fell. I fell into him, and I knew I would be forever lost within this man.
With his arm between us, his hand between my legs, he guided himself into me. As I felt the blunt pressure of his cock against my entrance, he placed both arms above my shoulders, eyes still fully focused on mine.
“Don’t close your eyes.” With a thrust, he entered me, his cock brushing against my inner walls, forcing me to arch my back, pressing my fingers into the skin of his shoulders. For the first time, it didn’t hurt. There was no pain. For the very first time in my life, feeling a man inside me didn’t crack my soul in two. Instead, it felt good, beautiful. It felt soothing, and it spread a warmth throughout my body, healing my soul little by little with every thrust. The whole time, he kept his gaze locked on mine, his body moving with a steady rhythm—leisurely, gentle, yet deep and consuming.
He leaned his head down on mine, our lips inches apart. “Are you okay?” he breathed, but the rhythm of his body never faltered.
I just nodded, unable to put words together. I was too busy going through the feelings of how one man could right all the wrongs which had been done to me. Everything was starting to feel so…damn…right.
His arm slipped to my side as he steadied himself, picking up the pace. My body moved with his, meeting his every thrust, our moans colliding as one. When he wrapped his hand around my leg, pulling my knee up, thrusting his cock deeper inside me, I whimpered out loud. “Antonio.”
“I’m here. It’s me. It’s only me.” He kissed me, hard, desperate, his tongue sweeping through my mouth as if in search of my taste. “It will always only be me.”
Within seconds, my mind shattered, and my body splintered into a thousand pieces beneath the man who had now claimed me as no other man had done before. Thrust after thrust, he pushed me further and further into the heart of a climax that ruptured deep within my core, leaving me breathless and panting.
Deep, hard, and fiercely powerful, he continued to pound into me, my legs shaking while my spine trembled with pleasure. He leaned his forehead down on mine, sweat beading all over his body. Our warm, rapid breaths crashed together…and then a wild, raw, primal roar tore from his throat.
And then I felt it…the steady pulse of his pleasure surging inside me. It wasn’t vile. It wasn’t revolting or humiliating like I had been used to.
It was beautiful. Intense. Perfect. Just like I had always dreamed it of being.
His chest rose and fell, moving against mine, our bodies both exhausted yet electrified. It was in this moment that I realized everything had to happen exactly the way it did for us to end up here within this perfect space in time. If I hadn’t been this broken and ruined, if he hadn’t been so tormented and troubled, we never would have experienced what we just had…together.
It was my pain. It was his regret. It was our salvation.
Chapter 22
Antonio
Yeah. I was fucked. Completely, entirely, downright fucked.
While I gazed at the woman who just made my world explode into a kaleidoscope of rainbows, butterflies, and cute little fucking unicorns, I knew everything had changed. How, I wasn’t sure. Right now, I wasn’t sure about anything. The only thing I was sure of was that now that I’d claimed her, I wouldn’t ever let her go. They could send the whole fucking Russian mob straight out of the heart of the goddamn Kremlin, I didn’t give a shit. I would slaughter them all like motherfucking cattle, but I was never letting her go.
It wasn’t something I could put a label on. Not yet, at least.
Love? I doubted a man like me was even capable of that.
Affection? Maybe, although that would require a man to actually have a heart.
Infatuation? Fucking definitely.
I had been infatuated and captivated by her and the brokenness she wore like a cross around her neck from the moment I saw her. But did that give me the right to take from her the little bit she had left to offer? Probably not. But I was a selfish bastard, and I never claimed to be otherwise. This was me—one greedy motherfucker.
I glanced down into her eyes, all hooded and beautiful. “You okay?”
She licked her lips, nodding.
“I didn’t hurt you?”
She smiled, but it was one of those smiles that had the power to bring a man like me to his knees. Subtle, yet gorgeous. Shy, yet utterly seductive. It was only now, this close, that I noticed the little golden specks in her brown eyes. It was beautiful.
I palmed her cheek, brushing my thumb across her heated skin. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”
Her face turned, her eyes shying away. But I wouldn’t have it. With my finger against her chin, I forced her to look at me. “Remember rule—”
“Number one. Always look at you when you speak to me.” Soft words spoken cautiously.
“Then why do you shy away from me?”
Her tongue flicked over her lips, leaving them glistening and tempting. “Sir, did I—”
“Antonio. From today, you will address me as Antonio,” I smiled wickedly, “unless I demand you otherwise.”
I f
elt her tense beneath me, her eyes wary. Gone was the pink blush of ecstasy from her cheeks.
“What’s wrong, Doe?”
“Did I…” she struggled, “did I please you?”
Christ. “Yes, Doe. God, yes.” At that moment, I felt for her. How years of abuse could make such a beautiful woman insecure, thinking nothing else mattered but pleasing others. What about her? What about her pleasure? About her fucking dignity? Like a lightning bolt, anger cracked through my chest, the feeling of wanting to slice the throat of every motherfucker who made even the slightest contribution to her suffering.
But I pushed back the rage, suppressed the need to go on a murderous rampage, and just…kissed her. I kissed her. It was the only thing I could do since no words would ever make it better. No words would ever take away her pain. Her humiliation. Her scars. So I poured every ounce of what I felt for her into that one kiss.
Passion. Adoration. Respect. Because any woman who had survived what she had demanded respect from the highest of men.
The more my lips devoured hers, my tongue exploring every corner of her mouth, I felt her body melt back into mine.
I eased up, letting go of her tantalizing lips. Again, words escaped me as I stared down at her. My perfectly ruined Doe.
“Come.” I got off the bed and took her hand. She followed me across the room, and I loved the fact that she wasn’t shy about her nakedness at all. Not one little bit—which was probably normal, given her past.
I opened the glass doors leading to the balcony. The way her eyes widened told me she wasn’t even aware there was a balcony to her room.
With my hand never leaving hers, I moved her to stand in front of me and pressed my front against her back as we reached the end of the balcony. It was the perfect summer night, the subtle warm breeze caressing our bodies, crickets singing in the garden while the moon shined at its brightest.
I would be a fool to think I knew what she had been through in the past. And I would probably never know the full extent of her suffering. But, by God, I would try my hardest to fight my own demons in order to slay hers.