Beautiful Torment, page 25
I leave her there, speechless, and head for the suite. When I enter, Abella’s standing with her back turned, shoulders trembling as she cries quietly.
I should be satisfied with her tears. It’s exactly what I said I wanted. Forever, until the end of time. So I don’t know why I have this uncomfortable ache in my chest every time I see them.
She lied to me. She’s still fucking lying to me. I can’t fuck her secrets out of her. And apparently, I can’t scare them out of her either. But she has to know whatever it is, I’ll get to the bottom of it eventually.
“What did I tell you about this?” I close in behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist as I wipe her tears away.
“Why are you in here?” she rasps.
“Where would you rather have me?”
She doesn’t answer.
I bury my face against the curve of her neck and breathe her in. It goes straight to my dick, and I press it against her spine so she knows it.
“I’m surprised you didn’t drag her in here to take care of that for you,” she says, some of the bite returning to her voice.
My lips graze her ear as frustration spills out of me in a rough breath. “Are you, or are you not, the Vitale queen?”
“What significance is that title when you flaunt her in front of me?” she asks.
“Oh, cara.” I grind against her. “I thought you were stronger than that. If you don’t like the situation, fix it.”
She glances up at me, trying to interpret the meaning behind those words, and I let her stew on it.
“You should be ovulating right now.”
It’s a lie, but fuck it. Every day is ovulation day in my book.
She sinks back against me and responds in kind. “So do something about it.”
I bite at her earlobe, and she sucks in a sharp breath.
“Take off your clothes,” I murmur.
I catch a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes before she does as I ask. It tugs at something in my chest, and I make a point to ignore it as she peels off her clothes. I can’t be too soft with her, but I suppose I can level the playing field—for tonight.
I strip off my clothes and toss them into the same pile as hers. When she glances back and sees me naked, she stills.
Her lips part and her pupils darken as she drags her slow, unblinking gaze over the length of my body. She traces every line of ink on my arms and chest before her eyes drift back down my abs, all the way to my cock.
She stumbles over her breath, and that sound lodges itself in my groin. Fuck. I need to release this ache. I feel like I’m having withdrawals.
I direct her toward the bed and tell her to bend over. Reluctantly, she gives me one last heart-eyed glance and does as she’s told.
She stretches her torso across the bed, long, silky black hair spilling down the curve of her back. Her feet stay planted on the floor, giving me an unobstructed view of her juicy, perfect peach of an ass. Just below that is the little pink slit I’m so fond of. In the span of two weeks, I’ve fucked every hole on her body. Now I want to do it all over again.
I stand behind her, fondling her ass with one palm as I stroke my cock with the other. The sight of my name branded on the back of her thighs brings out the animal in me. I could fuck her, but I haven’t yet punished her for leaving me alone with Genevieve.
I draw out her anticipation, lazily jacking myself off behind her. In the silence, her breathing accelerates, and goosebumps ripple over her bare skin.
“Angelo?” She glances over her shoulder, biting her lip as she watches me.
“Yes?” I continue stroking myself, eyes feasting on her body.
The poor little traitor looks so neglected, but she also can’t seem to drag her gaze away from me palming my cock. I’ve barely touched her, and already her arousal glistens against the seam of her pussy. The image of her bent over and aching for me is something I want to ink on my chest.
“Are you going to…” Her words drift off as she loses her courage.
“Am I going to what?”
She hesitates, and I hold her gaze.
“Fuck me.” She exhales.
I have to suppress a groan when those filthy words fall from her proper mouth. It’s tempting to smack her ass and make her say it on repeat just because I can.
“No.” I tighten my grip and pump harder. “Now spread your pussy so I can see it.”
She wavers for a moment, torn between her desire to please me and the modesty that’s been ingrained in her. When she obeys me, my balls draw tighter, throbbing with the need to unload.
She widens her stance and bares herself. It takes every ounce of restraint I have not to sink inside that tight space made just for me, but I’m intent on proving a point.
“Stretch it apart,” I direct her, voice rough. “I want to see all of you.”
She inches her feet further apart, showing me more, but it’s not enough.
“All of it,” I order. “Use your hands and show me what I fucking own.”
She grabs her ass cheeks and stretches them apart as much as she can, giving me the best view on the planet.
“Look how goddamn pretty you are,” I groan.
She lets out a soft whimper, feeding off my praise like she’s been starving for it. That single sound ratchets up the tension in my body. I’m painfully hard and aching for a release. Every muscle has tightened with the need to pump her so full of my cum, it drips down her thighs. Just the thought of it shreds the last of my control.
“Stay just like that,” I rasp, fisting myself to the point of agony.
My balls contract, cock pulsing as all the pressure settles low in my gut. A rush of heat zips down my spine and explodes through my shaft. The release spills out of me in hot, relentless spurts of cum I shoot directly into her pussy.
I milk every last drop, guttural pleasure rumbling in my chest as I fill her up. I’m still coming down, abs contracting, breath heaving—and all I can think about is doing it again.
I drag my gaze over my wife, bent over and stuffed full, all that cum glistening inside her. Reaching down, I cup her between her thighs and shove two fingers into her warmth, pushing my release deeper. She clenches around me, wet and needy.
Leaning over her, I slide one arm beneath her waist and pull her upright, pinning her against me. She squirms around the fingers still hooked inside her pussy, urging me to do something—anything.
Instead, I withdraw, pulling out of her slowly. She whimpers at the loss, her head falling back against my chest. I turn her face toward me, coaxing her lips apart with my cum-soaked fingers. When I slide them over her tongue, she hollows out her cheeks and sucks them clean.
A primal growl of satisfaction vibrates in my throat. There’s never been anything hotter than Abella greedy for the taste of my cum. For as long as I live, I’ll never forget the sight of her on her knees, swallowing everything I gave her.
I pull my fingers from her mouth and wrap them around her throat. She melts into me, pressing the naked skin of her back against my erection.
“You want to come, cara?”
“Yes,” she breathes.
I release her, and she watches in confusion as I settle onto the bed. Sprawling out across the mattress, I fold my arms behind my head.
“Then make yourself,” I tell her.
Her eyes burn a path over my body, consuming every inch of ink and muscle. When her attention drifts to the cock resting against my stomach, she stares at it like it’s her next meal.
“What do you want me to do?” she asks.
“Get creative.”
Her nipples tighten as she approaches the bed, uncertainty flickering across her face. She isn’t sure where to begin, but I trust the little deviant will think of something. I know she has a running list of ideas buried in that head of hers.
She eases herself onto the mattress and crawls to me—another snapshot burned to my memory. I watch in silence as she tries to work out the best way to climb on top of me. If I were directing her, I might suggest she sit on me and sink my dick inside her.
She opts for a different approach, clambering over me to straddle my hips. From this angle, the size contrast between us is darkly amusing. She has to split her legs wide open to sit astride me. Fortunately, she’s flexible, and I can’t complain about the view.
I have a wide-open shot of her obscenely hot breasts, and I’m banking on the fact that I’ll see them bouncing around soon.
She settles her palms on my chest as her wet pussy cradles the ridge of my cock, pinning it against my stomach. I anticipated being swallowed by her warmth, but I’m not opposed to this either. Particularly when she starts to rock her hips and use me like a slip and slide.
I relax and enjoy the show as she arches her back and grinds her clit down on me. Right now, I couldn’t drag my eyes away from her if I tried. Everything about her is soft, feminine, and wholly unfair to the male species at large—but especially me. I shouldn’t be this attracted to someone I loathe.
She has no idea the depths of my obsession, or the lengths I’ll go to satisfy it. This compulsion to own every piece of her is twisted as fuck. But I had six long years to make peace with this demon inside me. Now that I have her, I’ll never let her go.
“Angelo.” A frustrated breath escapes her.
She wants my hands on her, but I’m not done punishing her yet. One for lying to me, and two for Genevieve. I need her to understand that when she doesn’t play by my rules, she loses the privilege of coming so hard her brain melts.
“You can do it,” I tell her. “How do you usually make yourself come?”
Her soft green eyes meet mine. “I think of you.”
My hand settles on her hip in warning. “Don’t lie to me.”
She ignores the threat, closing her eyes as the confession spills from her lips. “I think of coming to visit you in prison, and letting you do whatever you want to me.”
Well, fuck. I didn’t expect that.
Now all I can think about is her with her hand in her panties, touching herself as she thinks of me. I want to ask her what kind of depraved things I got up to in these fantasies, but that might give her the impression I actually believe her.
When she opens her eyes again, her expression is raw with sorrow. “I tried so many times to see you. But you denied every visit.”
I’d be a fool to accept anything she tells me. Maybe it’s because she’s on my cock and my brain isn’t functioning like it should, but I can’t find a trace of deception in her eyes. The problem is, if she did come to visit me, I was never made aware of it.
Saving that information for later, I redirect the conversation.
“What would you have done if I'd let you in?”
She considers it for a moment before she leans closer. “I would have wanted to kiss your mouth, but I would have settled for this.”
Her lips skim over my jaw, then she kisses her way down my neck. She licks, sucks, and bites at me like it’s her only purpose in life. The rational side of me knows I shouldn’t let her do this, but I’m not telling her to stop either.
When I give her an inch, she takes a mile, lying her body over mine, tits pressing against my chest. She drags her fingers through my hair and mewls as she grinds down harder on my cock, soaking me with her arousal. From this angle, I’m close to slipping inside her—and that’s exactly where I want to be.
Fuck.
The whole point of this game was to deprive her. But now we’re playing a new game. The one where I give in to my feral urges and start tossing her around. One second, she’s on top of me, and the next, I’m shoving her facedown on the bed. I mount her from behind and straddle the back of her thighs, pinning her beneath me.
“Is this what you wanted?” I growl, pushing the head of my cock into her pussy.
“Yes,” she pleads.
I sink inside her, resenting her for how good she feels wrapped around me. This constant battle rages on—deciding whether I want to worship or hate-fuck her. Maybe a bit of both.
I clamp my hands around her wrists and wrench them back until half her body is bowed off the mattress. She’ll take the brunt of my thrusts in this position, and I’ll get the dark satisfaction of seeing how hard she comes when I’m hitting her G-spot.
I start to thrust deep inside her, and it only takes a few strokes before she feels it.
“Oh, God,” she pants.
“There you go again with your prayers,” I muse. “You like that?”
She nods, choking on her words as the pressure builds. It won’t take her long, and I’m probably going to blow my load the second she comes.
There’s something addictive about how much she loves being conquered. When I catch a glimpse of us in the mirrored chrome above the bed, that’s exactly what it looks like.
I’m built to break things her size, and admittedly, it fucks with my head that she can handle me like this. It’s insane she can take a brutal fucking from a man twice as big and get off on it. This kind of submission requires a boundless trust from a woman who knows my character. She’s seen the violence I’m capable of. And still…she offers herself to me with the blind faith I would never hurt her.
“You’re so fucking perfect, bella.” The words slip from my mouth unbidden.
She lets out a broken sound in response, too far gone for words. That small scrap of praise from me unravels the last of her control, setting off a torrent of tremors inside her. I’m stretching her body to the limit, pounding into her, and she’s so deep in oblivion I doubt she even realizes the whole plane can hear her right now.
She spirals into full-body contractions, every desperate cry milking my cock. I fuck her through her orgasm until she screams, and that sweet sound is my undoing.
My cock pulses violently, spilling over and flooding her with my release.
Her body sags in my grip, and I ease her back down on the bed, giving us both time to breathe. I still can’t stop touching her, dragging my palms down the length of her back, squeezing her ass beneath me. She shivers, soaking up everything I give her with soft little exhalations that make me irrationally tender.
That’s a problem for later.
Right now, I’m far too comfortable sitting here with my cock still lodged inside her, bathing in that warmth. We stay there, neither of us speaking as I continue to massage her. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. It isn’t a conscious thought process. It’s instinct.
After a while, I do a soft thrust, testing the boundaries of my own obsession. I’m ready to go again, even after coming twice. This is what happens when I’m deprived of her.
I fuck my cum deeper into her, and she starts to moan.
“You aren’t even close to full yet,” I tell her. “How much can you take?”
She glances over her shoulder, eyes brimming with hunger. “All of it.”
“Yes, piccola,” I growl, settling my body over hers. “I’m going to give you all of it.”
27
ABELLA
Sleep clings to the edges of my consciousness as a sluggish awareness urges me awake. I’m deliciously warm and cozy, and I don’t want to move. But something about that feeling makes me open my eyes.
I find myself draped over Angelo’s naked body, arm sprawled across his chest, while I use his shoulder as a pillow. I’ve got him pinned to the bed, held hostage in what could only be described as…cuddling.
My first instinct is to panic, but when I look up at him, he’s asleep. It’s uncertain whether it was before or after he succumbed to his exhaustion that I trapped him here. But then I realize his arm is wrapped around me, hand resting possessively on my hip.
So…is he really trapped?
As I consider it, I think about extricating myself. I can’t read too much into this. We collapsed and fell asleep, and that’s it. This kind of intimacy was never part of the deal. He won’t even let me kiss him, so I doubt he’d be pleased to wake up like this.
Even so, I can’t bring myself to move. Because when I leave him, these stolen moments are all I’ll have. So I close my eyes and let the lullaby of his beating heart drag me back to sleep.
“Cara.”
The sound of Angelo’s voice pulls me from sleep, and when I open my eyes, it takes me a moment to orient myself.
He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, having extricated his body from mine. There’s no evidence in his expression that it ever happened, so I guess that’s how we’re going to handle this.
“Brunch will be served soon,” he tells me.
I try to sit up, but I just end up groaning.
“Are you sore?” A shadow of concern passes over him, and I know he’s probably questioning if he was too rough with me.
He fucked me for hours, tossing me around and testing every limit. At one point, he bent me in half like a pretzel and took me so deep I swear I felt my soul leave my body. He did, in fact, give all his cum to me like he promised. I’m quite certain there couldn’t possibly be anything left.
Flashes of memories resurface—his rough, commanding voice, teeth grazing my throat, growls of pleasure in the dark—and lots of orgasms. Orgasms that made me scream and cry and beg. There’s not a chance everyone on this plane didn’t hear at least some of it.
The thought of facing them today floods me with embarrassment. Well, everyone except for Genevieve. I hope she heard every second of it.
I force myself upright, undeniably wrecked from our marathon session. There’s an ache between my legs, and every muscle in my body is sore. It must be obvious because Angelo takes pity on me.
“Come here.” He gathers me up in his arms and carries me to the bathroom. “A warm shower will help.”
“Is that what you do for the other women?”
I don’t know why I say it, and I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. But Angelo just looks at me like I’m a puzzle he can’t figure out. After all, what right do I have to be jealous when I’m the one who let him go?
Whatever his thoughts might be, he doesn’t share. Instead, he opens the shower door and sets me on the bench seat inside.
