Stealing Beauty (Stolen 1)

“I’m going to wash your husband’s blood off my hands,” he informed me coldly, turning away and stalking into the bathroom.

As soon as the door shut behind him, I slipped off my stilettos and silently got to my feet. I only had a slim chance at escape, but I couldn’t allow Adrián to rape me. I might be running straight back into Hugo’s clutches, but anything was preferable to being violated by the boy I’d loved.

I prayed that the running water in the bathroom would mask any soft noise I made as I padded across the carpeted floor. With a final, fearful glance behind me, I slipped out the door. It clicked shut behind me, the sound making my heart leap into my throat. Adrián might have heard it, too.

I took off, sprinting down the hallway. My exercise regimen had made me fast, but I could only move so quickly through the hotel. I raced past the elevators, searching for the stairwell entrance; I couldn’t waste precious seconds waiting on the elevator to arrive.

I’d barely rounded the corner, praying to find the stairs, when I heard a harsh growl behind me. I didn’t have time to gasp before his hand clamped over my mouth, smothering my scream. His other arm closed around my front beneath my breasts, pinning my arms at my sides as he dragged me back to the room. I kicked out, but my efforts to escape his strength were laughably ineffective. His corded muscles rippled around me, and my fear spiked. I anticipated violence as soon as he got me back in the room.

But I wasn’t prepared for the humiliation he planned to inflict.Chapter 4Adrián“You shouldn’t have run from me, conejita,” I growled, the endearment from our childhood dropping from my lips without thought. My desire for my frightened little bunny had always held a harsh edge, even when we were teenagers. A dark part of me had indulged in her trepidation.

Now, her fear was a potent cocktail, tempting me. I’d grown to hate her over the years, but it seemed my dick still responded to her trembling body.

Nearly a decade of indulging in my more sadistic tendencies had only honed my crueler proclivities. And in this moment, they were all focused on Valentina. There was a desperate edge to my desire, my need to punish her driving me close to madness. Usually, I found cold control in forcing a woman’s submission. With Valentina, the clawing imperative to discipline her was overwhelming.

I owed her pain for so much more than trying to run away just now. Her transgressions were far older and deeper than that.

But her foolish bid for freedom gave me the excuse I’d been craving ever since I’d carried her away from Hugo’s bloodied body.

She thrashed in my grip, her slight frame no match for my brute strength. I could feel taut muscles straining beneath my corded arms, but her curves were soft. She obviously kept herself fit. To please her husband.

My arm tightened around her, my hand on her mouth pressing hard enough that my fingers curved into her cheeks.

Her attempts to scream dropped to a low whimper. The sound made my cock stiffen. I wanted more soft little noises of distress. I wouldn’t relent until she repented. Even then, a simple apology would never be enough. I needed full submission. I needed her begging for mercy at my feet.

My fevered fantasy took on an erotic edge as her writhing body stimulated my dick. There were more calculated ways to break a woman than inflicting pain. Pleasure could be a powerful weapon.

I took a breath and harnessed my base desires. I wouldn’t fuck her. Nothing she could do, no amount of pleading, would ever be enough to convince me to give in to that particular aching need. I’d never taken my pleasure from her body. She’d been too young, too innocent. And now, she’d betrayed me too thoroughly for me to ever want her in that way.

She would be punished, and nothing more. I could find my satisfaction in her tears without indulging in my own physical release. There were some dark pleasures far more enticing than a simple orgasm.

Binding her and gagging her had tested the limits of my control. The sight of her curvy body at my mercy, the sound of her soft moan, had made my blood run hot. If Mateo hadn’t distracted me, I wasn’t sure how far I would have pushed her. The craving to touch her and toy with her until she sobbed for release had been nearly overwhelming.

Mateo wasn’t here to distract me now. Nothing would stop me from punishing her in the way I so fiercely desired.

I manhandled her into place, forcing her over my knee as I sat on the edge of the bed. I trapped her flailing legs between my own and grabbed her wrists, pinning them at the small of her back with one hand.