I lifted her leg up over my back, changing the angle and sliding a bit deeper into her.
She cried out and threw her head back, baring that elegant neck. Pain and pleasure. I couldn’t take my eyes off her face as she gasped and whimpered and moaned. Her gaze sought mine again. She hardly ever looked away. She was the first woman who dared to hold my gaze while I fucked her, the first woman I allowed to do so. My fingers slid over her clit as I sunk into her in deep controlled strokes over and over again.
I wanted my prize, wanted to force it from her quivering body, wanted her complete surrender.
Her tight walls clamped around my cock as she came under me. I closed my lips over the perfect skin at her throat and bit down, wanting to leave my mark. My angel. She tensed and shuddered even harder.
I leaned down. “And you thought I wouldn’t own you, Angel,” I said softly then kissed her ear.
She glared up at me, shame and hate mingling on her perfect features. Her cold, proud eyes blazed with emotions I had summoned.
“Now that we got this out the way, why don’t I fuck you like I wanted to from the start?” I said in a low voice. Serafina was a chess piece.
There was a flash of fear, but I didn’t give her time to consider my words. She was slick around my cock. I slid all the way out of her and thrust back into her in one hard push. She gasped from pain this time. I hummed my approval. I soon found a pace that was fast enough to be painful but not so overwhelming that she’d not feel the dark promise of pleasure behind it.
She closed her eyes. “No,” I snarled, giving her a far less restrained thrust, showing her that I was still holding back. She looked at me with hate and disgust. I claimed her mouth, growing even harder under the intensity of her emotions. Hate was good.
I sucked her nipple into my mouth, and she tensed. Oh yes. Fucking Serafina was better than my imagination had promised. “I can’t wait to send these sheets to Danilo and your family,” I rasped against her wet skin.
She clawed at my back, and I groaned, my cock twitching.
She fought against the pleasure, clung to the pain, even preferring it. I reached between us, found her nub, and flicked my finger over it. She squeezed harder around my cock, causing my eyes to close under the blinding pleasure. “If you stop fighting the pleasure, it’ll be less painful, Angel,” I murmured against her pink nipple before I sucked it back into my mouth. I hit deeper than before, still not as hard and deep as I wanted, but Serafina whimpered.
I lifted my head. She bit her lip, holding back the sound. “Surrender to the pleasure. It’ll be worth it.”
She hit me with a hateful gaze but didn’t pull back when I kissed her mouth and slipped my tongue inside. She’d rather suffer through the pain than stop fighting the pleasure. Proud and strong. Determined not to give me another one of her sweet releases. I claimed her mouth, hard and fast, like my cock did her tight center.
I decided to allow her that small victory. I’d already won the prize and the war. I let loose, submitted to the pressure in my balls. I thrust into her one last time then shot my cum into her with a violent shudder.
I stared into her eyes as I claimed her body. She was mine. I couldn’t wait for Cavallaro and her fiancé to find out.
CHAPTER 16
SERAFINA
Remo pulled out of me, and I winced, sucking in a sharp breath. I rolled over to my side, away from him, but the shame stayed with me. Remo brushed my hair away and kissed my neck then lightly bit down, and I shivered. “You are mine now, Angel. I own you. Even if I ever let you go, I’ll still own you. You will always remember this day and deep down you will always know that you are mine and mine alone.”
I closed my eyes, trying to hold back tears, fighting them, holding on to my composure with sheer force of will. The sheets rustled as Remo got out of bed, and I didn’t look over my shoulder to see what he was doing. I heard the water running in the bathroom.
He returned moments later and ran his fingers down my spine then back up before he grabbed my shoulder and rolled me onto my back. My eyes found his. He parted my legs, his eyes taking in my thighs covered in my blood.
Not taking his eyes off my face, he knelt between my legs. I tensed, confused but too stunned and overwhelmed to act. With a dark smile, he leaned forward and ran his tongue over my thigh, licking up the blood. I was frozen. He traced a finger up my leg and circled my opening with it. I stiffened. I was sore but Remo slid his finger inside of me very slowly. His dark eyes held mine and after a moment, he gently pulled his finger back out, now slick with my blood. A horrible suspicion wormed its way into my head, and he proved it right. Remo put his blood-coated finger in his mouth with a twisted smile. “The taste of blood never disgusted me, and your virgin blood is sweeter than anything else.”
My nose wrinkled in disgust, and shame warmed my cheeks.
Remo assessed me calmly as he released his finger from his mouth. He stroked my inner thighs as he lowered himself to his stomach between my legs.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Remo pressed a kiss to my center. “Claiming my missing prize.”
My hand shot out, wanting to shove him away, but he caught my wrist and pressed it to my thigh.
His mouth gently moved over me, followed by his tongue. He was so gentle, my body responded despite my soreness. He held my gaze as he traced his tongue along my slit over and over again. Then he closed his lips over my clit and began sucking softly.
I moaned, unable to hold it in. Remo smiled against my flesh. I stopped fighting it and sank into the mattress, my legs parting further. Remo kept up the soft touch of his tongue and mouth but pulled back slightly. “There you go. Let me make you forget the pain.”
And he did. There was still an undercurrent of a dull ache, but somehow it heightened every spike of pleasure Remo’s tongue brought me.
“Look at me,” Remo ordered, his lips brushing against my folds. I met his gaze and started trembling as my core tightened. Pain and pleasure mingled as Remo’s tongue worked my nub. My lips parted and I cried out, unable to contain it. Remo’s eyes flashed with triumph, and he pressed closer to my center, devouring me. I thrashed under him, gasping. It was painful and mind-bendingly pleasurable. I was torn apart and put back together, miss-matched and wrong but back together.
I slumped against the bed, resigned, exhausted, my body throbbing with pain and the remnants of my orgasm. Remo stayed between my legs, but his tongue had slowed. His fingers pulled me apart, and he lapped at my opening. I moaned as it caused another aftershock. Everything about this was wrong and filthy. With a last kiss to my clit, Remo climbed over me and claimed my mouth. The taste of blood and my own juices made me shudder.
Remo pulled back. “Pain and pleasure,” he rasped. “What do you prefer, Angel?”
Shame crashed down on me hard and fast. “I hate you.”
Remo smiled darkly and pushed off me. “There is a washcloth on the nightstand.” His erection and upper thighs were smeared with my blood, but he didn’t bother covering himself as he walked out of the room, leaving me alone.
The door clicked shut.
I sat up, wincing again. My eyes were drawn to the sheets, and I closed my eyes again. This was supposed to happen on my wedding night. It was supposed to be Danilo’s privilege, and I had given it away because that was exactly what it was: giving not taking. I got up and moved slowly toward the bathroom. The soreness wasn’t even the worst part. Not even close. That was the shame, the guilt over what I let happen.
I stepped into the shower and turned it on. The water was hot, on the verge of being painful but it felt good. I leaned back against the wall and slowly sank down. Pulling my legs up against my chest, I cried because Remo was right: what I’d done today, I’d never forget. Even if I returned to the Outfit, how could I face my family again? How could I face Danilo, my fiancé, the man I had promised myself to?
I wasn’t sure how long I sat like this when Remo stepped into the bathroom. I didn’t look up, only saw his legs in my peripheral vision. He moved closer and then the water stopped. He crouched before me. I still didn’t look up. My throat and nose were clogged from crying and I started to shiver without the warmth of the water.
“Look at me,” Remo ordered. “Look at me, Serafina.”
When I refused to do as he asked, he reached for my chin and nudged it up until my gaze met his. His dark eyes searched my face. I couldn’t read the emotions in his eyes. “If it helps, try telling yourself I raped you,” he whispered in a low voice. “Maybe you will start believing it.”
Nothing had ever cut deeper than Remo’s words. He didn’t need a knife to make me bleed. I glared at him, wanting to hate him with every part of my being, but a tiny, horrible part of me didn’t, and it was that part of me I despised more than I could ever hate Remo.
REMO
After claiming Serafina, I left her in the bed. I needed time to gather my fucking thoughts. I went to my bedroom and put on briefs but didn’t bother cleaning my thighs or face. It was late in the evening, so Kiara should still be in her bedroom with Nino.
I could still taste Serafina, sweet and metallic.
The sweetest triumph of my life.
Fuck. This woman ...
I fixed myself a drink, a bourbon, then leaned against the bar, swirling the liquid in the glass, fucking averse to washing away her taste. The memory still burned bright.