Violent Ends (White Monarch 2) - Page 24

“Wait,” I whispered as he turned and walked to the door. “Wait!”

He didn’t.

As he reached for the handle, I jumped to my feet. Cristiano wouldn’t guarantee anyone’s safety until he’d had me in the most carnal way. We would consummate the marriage regardless of what he or I wanted—I’d make sure of it.

Now, I knew how to stop him—but I’d always known how to start him up.

I ran across the room, my bare feet slapping the tiles until I stopped short. “Please.”

He froze.

“You can’t go,” I said, grabbing his bicep with both hands to pull him away from the door. “We had a deal.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I changed my mind.”

I tugged him toward the bed with me as I repeated, “Please.”

With a lazy blink, the same desire he’d worn earlier returned to his face. He’d told me once I would beg. He wanted me to beg. My dignity had been stripped away in the last twenty-four hours. My virginity had been stolen, my love rejected, and I’d been forced to my knees before God to pledge my obedience to the devil. What more did I have? I was the only person who could keep Cristiano’s wrath at bay.

And I knew what he needed to give himself permission.

Only one word—please—had warmed his demeanor just now.

I dropped to my knees. I wasn’t begging for sex but for the lives of my father, everyone who worked for him, and any innocent person who’d pay the price of Diego’s deal. I had no idea how far the Maldonados would go, and I wasn’t going to find out.

“Please what?” he asked.

“Consummate this marriage as you promised you would.”

His chest heaved. “I don’t like the word consummate. Choose another.”

“I . . .” My throat thickened. I doubted he meant make love, and whatever shred of dignity I retained wouldn’t allow me to call it that anyway. “Fuck,” I said. “Fuck me, Cristiano.”

He seized my bicep, urging me to my feet and spinning me around. “You’re willing to take whatever I give to save Diego?” he asked, hauling my hips back and making his erection known as he walked us toward the bed. “This is what you want?”

What I didn’t want was to admit that my quaking was just as much born of desire as it was fear. But I had to if I was going to break his control. “I want this.”

He fisted my hair and bent me over the lip of the bed. Despite the fire’s warmth, I shivered. Cristiano’s dominance finally matched his threats, and it was as thrilling as it was terrifying. He held me down as metal clinked, and his zipper purred. He pushed my dress up over my ass and pressure weighed against the crotch of my underwear. I gripped the comforter, fighting warring urges to push him off and gyrate against him. I thought I’d wanted gentle, but gentleness had deceived me.

I wanted the monster.

Break me so I can break you. What would it do to him to lose control? To look himself in the mirror tomorrow knowing deep down he’d taken me against my will? I would soon find out.

He closed his body over my back, his mouth in my hair. “This is how you like it?” he asked, pinning my hands to my sides. “Answer me.”

“Yes.”

He thrust, and my damp underwear pressed against my opening as he begged for entry. “No other woman has ever gotten me this hard. I could break right through your panties. Maybe my brother put his dick in you and moved around, but I’m going to wreck your pussy and show you what it truly means to have your virginity taken. To have it destroyed.”

Ohh, God. I sucked in a breath. In any other moment, his words might’ve confused me, but now that I was poised to be thoroughly shaken and ravaged, I understood what I’d experienced before him was simply a tremble. “Whatever you command is yours,” I said through gritted teeth.

He groaned in my ear. “You thought what he gave you was an orgasm? Child’s play. When I’m through with you, you won’t even remember my brother’s name. You will clench on my cock so hard, you’ll suck me dry. I will show you,”—he thrust again—“how a man fucks his wife. How an animal fucks. So tell me. How do you want it the first time? Like an animal or as my wife?”

I needed him to fill me, to rid me of the confusing, consuming ache between my legs.

I needed him to break me once and for all so I could hate him for it. So he could hate himself for it.

“Animal,” I said.

“I see,” he said evenly. “The beast scares you in the light, but not only do you crave it after dark . . . you become it. I’m not surprised—I knew it all along.” He released me and stood, taking his heat with him. “That’s why you’ve soaked the tip of my cock right through your underwear.”

Tags: Jessica Hawkins White Monarch Romance
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