Devil's Embrace (Devil 1)

“No, damn you, no!” Cassie yelled. The pain in her chest faded from her consciousness and she fought him, clawing at his eyes through the black mask, kicking wildly at his legs.

“Hold the wildcat, Giacomo,” Andrea shouted.

Andrea tore off her clothing, delighting, she thought wildly, in shredding every layer. She twisted frantically, even as Giacomo wrenched her arms behind her back.

Andrea stepped back, his dark eyes glistening, his large tongue running excitedly over his lips.

She stood naked, her body quivering with cold and fear, her hair hanging loosely down her back and over her breasts.

He reached out his hand and cupped her breast. A piercing scream broke from Cassie’s mouth, and without thought, she leaned her head down and sank her teeth into the back of his hand.

He struck her, full in the face, and she fell back against Giacomo. Giacomo’s hands moved urgently over her, down her belly, around her thighs. She could hear his breathing in her ear, heavy and rasping in his lust. Cassie jerked an arm free of him and thrust her elbow into his stomach.

She heard his bellow of rage and hoped that his blow would leave her senseless.

But it was Andrea who struck her. He drove his fist into her belly, and she fell to her knees, clutching her arms about herself. She was hurled upon the cloak, her arms yanked above her head and held there by Giacomo’s knees. She felt his hands pulling her hair from her face and shoulders. His fingers closed over her breasts, tender from her pregnancy, hurting her badly.

“She does not like your gentle attention, Giacomo,” Andrea said, laughing. “Let us see if she prefers this.”

Cassie’s eyes opened wide, despite herself. Andrea had dropped his breeches and bared himself. He was built like a bull, a brute, a raging animal.

She kicked wildly at his hairy belly as he grabbed at her legs. He grunted and thrust himself between her thighs.

Dimly, as if from a great distance, Cassie heard Joseph screaming curses.

“Lay the Corsican out, Giulio. I need both of you to hold her down.”

“Bastardo!” Cassie screamed, and craned her neck forward to see Joseph slumping onto the floor. She was sobbing, screaming her own curses at them, English oaths that they did not understand.

Suddenly there were hands all over her body, rough fingers digging into her, pulling her legs apart. For an instant, the room was silent, save for the rasping breath of the men who held her. Then her body exploded into agony. Andrea drove into her, tearing her, his hands jerking her hips upward to engorge himself with her.

For the first time in her life, Cassie prayed for death, for blessed unconsciousness that would free her of this horror. But the pain continued, plummeting her mind into senselessness. She was scarce aware when the second man took his turn, for he could not tear her body more than had Andrea. Until Giulio. “Damn,” she heard him curse, “the wench grows too slippery.”

She was pulled onto her stomach. And she screamed, screamed until her voice was a hoarse groan in her throat.

“You rutting bastards.”

It was a new voice, a man’s voice, laden with fury.

She was rolled onto her back and the vicious probing hands left her.

“You did not say that we could not enjoy her,” Andrea said, his voice sulky.

“Get out, all of you. What if someone comes, you fools, the lot of you mucking around with your breeches down. For God’s sake, get out of here and keep watch.”

For a moment, Cassie’s mind detached itself from her torn body, and her eyes focused on the man. Like the others, he wore a black mask. But there was something different about him, other than the richness of his clothing, something that she couldn’t quite grasp.

“Joseph,” she whispered between swollen lips. It did not occur to her to beg mercy for herself. She knew with the hopelessness of certainty that there would be none.

“Pazza fragitara nigli inferno,” he said, his voice low and strangely slurred.

Caesare stared down at her and felt a spasm of revulsion at what his bravi had done to her. He had thought to take her himself, but now he wanted only to leave this place and forget her eyes staring up at him, wide with helpless terror, forget the sight of her naked body, bruised and bleeding. He turned abruptly on his heel and strode to the door. “Andrea!” he shouted. “Do as you like with them. Just be certain, if you value your life, that they are never found.”

“No,” she whispered after him, trying to pull herself up, but he was gone.

Andrea appeared in the open doorway. “No more need of these, lads,” he said, and pulled off his mask.

Cassie stared up at his coarse-bearded face, his mouth slashed wide in a grin. “Let her see your handsome face, Giacomo,” he said, again unfastening the buttons of his breeches.