Dirty Obsession (Dirty 1)

The way he says I need you makes me ache deep in my belly. It’s only been a couple of days since I’ve had sex, but being surrounded by sexy Italians is going to turn me into a sex-craving lunatic even if they are keeping me here against my will. It still doesn’t change the fact that, when they speak, I lose my mind.

“No, you need to change your plans.”

“You don’t get a say in this, beautiful. Your choices are, you come with me freely, or I’ll carry you. Now, which will it be? Because I really would like to get my hands on you again.”

My eyes shoot open. I don’t like Matteo’s choices game that he plays with me. It’s never really a choice. Just like choosing to become this family’s slave or dying wasn’t really a choice either.

“I’ll walk,” I say as I slowly get up.

Matteo respects my wishes and keeps his hands off me.

As soon as I’m standing, I run.

This time, instead of running away from the house, I run toward it. Matteo said that, as long as I was in my bedroom, I wouldn’t be touched. If Matteo is going to give me some choice between him forcefully fucking me in the ass or me willingly sucking his dick, he’s got another thing coming. I will do no such thing. I just have to make it up to the bedroom. And then I’ll spend the rest of my time hiding out there and sneaking out in the middle of the night for food.

Unless Matteo was lying.

But it’s the best shot I have.

So, I run full force into the mansion and down hallways until I get to the staircase that leads up to my room. I don’t hear Matteo running after me anymore. He should have been able to catch me in my heels. But he either has given up or he knows that he is going to come into my room even if it breaks the “rules.”

But I keep running up the stairs. I keep running down the long, dark hallway until I’m feet from the door.

When I see Enrico, I try to stop. But I’m not prepared to stop. I run straight into him.

I try to turn and run the other way, but his hands grab my shoulders.

“Let me go!” I scream, trying to get out of his arms.

He’s old and out of shape, and I know I can overtake him.

He shakes his head. “You should be black and blue by now. You should be broken and curled up into a ball in your room. But you’re not.”

I grin. “Because I’m stronger than you think. And I’m not some plaything that you can beat when you want.”

Enrico smiles. “No. You’re not strong. You’re weak. Just like my sons. They think that playing some game with your head first is how they are going to win this fight. But you aren’t like the rest. You’re a fighter; I’ll give you that. Feisty. You won’t give up anything easily. That is why you need to be broken.”

I stop fighting for just a second as I try to understand his words. “What do you mean?”

“It means that I’m going to be the one who breaks you. My sons need to learn a lesson. I’m going to beat you until you can’t move, slave. I’m going to fuck you until all you can think about is my cock. I’m going to break you. And, when I’m done, my sons will have their turns.”

The panic quickly turns into survival.

I knee him hard in the crotch, and he immediately releases me, not able to deal with the pain.

“You won’t fucking touch me. I’m not your slave!” I scream at him as I run back down the stairs.

I had it right the first time. I need to get the fuck away from these deranged people.

I make it three steps down when I see two men walking up the stairs with the intent to grab me. I know from how they are dressed in dark clothes that they are Enrico’s men.

The adrenaline takes over, and I run full force at them. I punch the first man as hard as I can in the nose, getting just a glimpse of the blood that pours out of him, before I get to the second man. I kick him as hard as I can in the crotch, but he grabs my leg before I make contact.

I fall onto the stairs, hitting my head against the wrought iron railing before I land on the ground. I don’t have to see the blood to know that my head is fucked up. I want to keep fighting. I don’t want them to take me so easily, but the world starts spinning. My head feels like it’s about to explode from the pressure and pain.

I spent seven years preparing. Trying my best to take every self-defense class I could. I learned how to use a gun. I learned how to control my obsessions.

But nothing was ever going to be enough. I’m still going to get raped. Beaten. I’m still going to be a slave. Because I’m not strong enough to save myself from any of it.