Page 46 of Demon's Speak

Isotta sat down hard on her bed. She was absolutely frustrated by what she heard and hated even more that she didn’t voice any kind of objection. Isotta didn’t say anything to let Massimo know how she truly felt. But she had mixed feelings about how she felt about him. There was a part of Isotta that despised Massimo, yet there was another small part of her that loved him. She hated admitting even to herself that she loved him.

It wouldn’t be long before the car would arrive, and Isotta wanted to have the chance to say goodbye to her family. She didn’t know how long it would be before she was able to see them again. She returned to Valentina’s room because she certainly wanted another opportunity to speak to her, to tell her goodbye.

“I have to go,” Isotta admitted, feeling the tears brewing behind her eyes. The sisters didn’t need to exchange any more words because they’d already said so much. They hugged each other like it would be the last time it happened. Isotta left her sister’s room unceremoniously. She did not feel nearly as affectionate when she said goodbye to her parents or to her grandmother.

“So, are you planning to hold up your end of the bargain this time?”

Isotta turned slowly on her heels to face Costanza. She couldn’t believe what her grandmother said, but she should not have been surprised.

“And what do you propose I was doing here, not holding up my end of the bargain?” Isotta flitted air quotes into the air to emphasize the facetiousness with which she spoke.

“I just wanted to be sure that you hadn’t forgotten all of your home training for such a time as this,” Costanza continued her voice level, her wit unshaken.

“You wouldn’t let me forget,” Isotta replied. “Being here reminds me of how much I need to remember. I know my place.” Isotta started out of the room. Who you need to be concerned about is Valentina, she thought to herself. Costanza wasn’t surprised when Isotta left. She said what she needed to say to remind her of her place.

Isotta rode quietly in the back of the chauffeured car. Herr's heart beat faster in her chest, and she felt as though it slipped out of place the closer she got to Massimo’s house. A part of Isotta wanted to tell the driver to turn around and take her anywhere but to Massimo’s house. But just as she thought about saying something, the driver pulled up to the house and parked the car. Isotta heard the movement around her, the driver opening and closing the trunk and eventually opening her car door. He stood there waiting for Isotta to exit, but a part of her was hesitant about moving. The driver cleared his throat as if to nonverbally encourage movement from Mrs. Isotta. She got the hint even though she still didn’t move with the urgency he expected.

Isotta lifted herself from the car and put one slow foot in front of the other until she reached the front door. It opened by itself. Isotta’s eyes grew wide for a minute. Maybe it was an enchantment that caused the door to open. But it wasn’t magic.

It was Massimo.

Isotta looked up and looked into his eyes. She was immediately transfixed by what she saw. He was as handsomely intriguing as the first day she saw him. To be so physically beautiful was such an intriguing gift, and Isotta momentarily basked in it. The moment reminded Isotta of just how she fell in love with him. The feeling it created in her body was incalculable, unmatched, and unbridled. A part of their tumultuous past attempted to display its ugly head and remind Isotta of why she was angry with him, why she didn’t trust him, and why he broke her heart. Massimo had crushed her in so many ways, and on so many levels, she stood there torn between revelry and anger.

When their eyes finally met, Isotta recognized in the depths of Massimo that he was not glad to see her. He did not greet her, hug her, or even smile in her general direction. Instead, Massimo turned and started to walk further inside the house, straight to his master bedroom. When Isotta realized where he was going, she wanted to object. She wanted to protest or even ask what his intentions were. Instead, though, she merely dropped her shoulders and followed him. A part of her wanted to go to feel the love Isotta knew Massimo had for her.

Another part of her was petrified.

Her pulse quickened as she followed Massimo into the bedroom. He closed the door. He still hadn’t said anything, and Isotta thought the lack of conversation made her even more nervous. He walked over to the bed and stood close to it. He never dropped his gaze from her, but once again, it was like Massimo looked through her, not at her. If he expected Isotta to move over to where he was, he didn’t have to say it. She did. Isotta gingerly walked over to where Massimo stood and stopped in front of him.

She knew what he wanted. It had been some time since he had an opportunity to mark his territory. Isotta knew that was expected. Massimo unbuttoned his top button while still focusing on Isotta. His mind was singularly focused. He had to teach her a lesson, to remind her of who he was and her place. Massimo had to teach her a lesson. He wanted her to be pregnant to give him an heir and lock his place in with the family. He would not be satisfied until the lesson had been bought and paid for and the seed had been planted for his offspring.

Massimo could have forcefully demanded and taken what he wanted from Isotta. Instead, he got more satisfaction out of her compliance.

Her heartbeat was loud and so profoundly deafening that Isotta struggled to hear anything but that. But she didn’t need to hear to know what she must do. She dropped her eyes from the captivity of Massimo’s and started to undress. It became methodical as she moved through her outer layer of clothes, and he said nothing. She dared peek to see if she still had Massimo’s eyes. When she looked up, Isotta found Massimo still looking through her, past her very soul. Did she see any softness there? Any reprieve that although his intentions started off fierce that, he would soften up and remember?

But Isotta saw nothing remotely resembling that. All she saw was blank anger and intensity. She dared to momentarily stare into Massimo’s eyes to see if anything else was there. When she looked, all Isotta saw was nothingness. She refused to be deterred, though. Isotta understood that the faster she let things get underway with all the hurt and pain she anticipated, the faster it would be over. Isotta dropped her eyes again before initiating his angry vengeance before its time and continued to undress.

By the time she got down to her underwear, Massimo felt his nature rising. He refused to hold it back. Massimo intended for Isotta to get every bit of his machismo, authoritatively and without repentance. His cock thumped in his pants. But Isotta was not paying attention. She was demure in her approach to continuing to undress. There was a time when the thought of standing before her husband in her undergarments would make her physically ill. She felt much the same way now. The only difference was she knew she had to do it, and she still felt physically ill. Isotta had the compunction to cover herself, but she fought against that idea. She didn’t want Massimo to physically strike her. He had never done that in the past, but Isotta refused to put the idea past him.

She reached to the center of her back and unsnapped her brassiere. She didn’t just let it fall, though. Isotta felt self-conscious enough to try to cover herself even though she knew she shouldn’t. Isotta didn’t dare peek back up into Massimo’s eyes. She knew hesitation or methodical action would only enrage him further, and she didn’t want to frustrate him any more than he was already frustrated. Isotta wanted to get the whole painful process over. She wanted to be done with it so she could get back to healing and shoring herself up to deal with whatever other authoritarian thing he intended for her.

Isotta pushed past her anxiety and allowed her bra to fall to the floor. Subconsciously, she covered herself, but just for a moment. Isotta had to reveal Massimo’s target, his aim, his goal. His manhood thumped again at the thought of her peeling her underwear off to show him what he intended to dominate, to rule, to conquer. Massimo’s rod thumped again as it hardened. He was losing patience in waiting for what he wanted.

Isotta pushed her panties off her hips. She didn’t want to move them down any further, but she knew she had to. Isotta closed her eyes and wiped her thoughts to get on with what she had to do. Isotta eased the panties down even further until she had to bend forward and let them fall to the floor. Isotta prepared to step out of her underwear, but Massimo had another thought. He unbuttoned his shirt while stepping out of his shoes. He reached for the buckle to his pants and unfastened them. When Isotta stood back up, Massimo turned his eyes slightly, and she moved to the bed as he told her to. By the time she climbed in, Massimo was there even before she could pull the cover-up and try to hide what she had just had on display.

Isotta considered affixing her eyes to the ceiling like she’d done in the past. She considered it strongly because that was her place of comfort at such a time when she was so uncomfortable. Massimo moved on top of her unceremoniously. With his knee, he opened her legs. With his hand, he put Isotta’s hands over her head and firmly held them there. She felt her breathing escalate. She felt a pant burning in her spirit. Massimo held her hands in place and held them there firmly. He didn’t need to apply any pressure, but he did, to the point that she knew he was there. It was almost painful, but she refused to say anything.

With his free hand, Massimo moved Isotta’s leg, inclining it to open. He grabbed his manhood and looked Isotta in the eye, daring her to look away as he guided his thickly corded, throbbing erectness into her. Massimo’s cock touched the entrance to Isotta’s womanhood. He wasn’t hesitant as he pushed into her, not pausing for tightness or any resistance. Massimo was determined to get inside of her and have his way with her.

Isotta opened her mouth to make a resistant verbal utterance, but no sound passed through her lips as he pushed inside her. He forced his way in. Massimo seemed to be in his own head as he moved. He got caught up in the dominance he intended for her and grunted as he broke through her resistance. It hurt Isotta so bad that she wanted to cry out. She thought a tear may spill from her lids, but she willed none of that to happen. Massimo’s need to dominate Isotta took over, and he pushed hard inside her. He didn’t stop. He pushed hard inside her again and again as his hand clamped down on hers harder and harder. He fell into his own rhythm, as every time he pounded her flesh, Massimo thought about his ultimate plan, to deposit his seed so a child would grow. The thought of it took over, and Massimo fucked her harder. His cock grew more firm. His hands moved to her neck, and Massimo squeezed. When Isotta looked surprised, her eyes bulging, but her mouth was still silent, Massimo gritted his teeth and squeezed her neck even harder. He left his hand and fingerprints in his wake. His manhood grew even more firm, and he felt it. The veins raised as they filled with tense emotion.

Massimo’s fuck was hard. Isotta felt something inside her rip and break and tear. Still, she remained quiet because to complain would only make his punishment of her take even longer. Then he was overcome. Massimo’s push got even harder. His push got even faster. It was intentional as he lifted into the heights of what she had to give, and he forced past that. She whimpered, and that sent Massimo even further down the spiral of getting what he demanded most. He harshly rose into Isotta to the hilt and raised into her again because he wanted to make sure she knew he was the boss. Her puss was his.

Massimo marked what belonged to him again and again. He felt his manhood on the verge of exploding, spilling over into her welcoming womb what she deserved. Massimo positioned both his hands to hold Isotta’s wrists individually. Pressure was applied to the point that her wrists would be raised for days to come. But Massimo didn’t care. He wanted what he wanted, and he would not take any kind of resistance for an answer. He moved her legs up higher, wider, so he could get all of what he wanted with each thrust. Isotta tried to hold firm, but Massimo’s thrust was so powerful she had no choice but to give in to him. A low, guttural groan began to erupt in his core, and it only got deeper and deeper. His body was frantic, but his move inside Isotta was fast and intentional because he couldn’t hold back what he had to deliver anymore.

Isotta felt his cum spewing inside her. That seemed to go on forever. Eventually, though, Massimo was done. He had given her everything he intended to give her. He was done.

Massimo put his feet on the floor and stood up. He walked out of the room.

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