Page 49 of Capo

I whimper, meeting his eyes as I put a hand between my legs. I want to plead with him to let me go, let me disappear. He slowly shakes his head, his cock swelling as he rubs it across my lips.

I take him in my mouth, caressing his balls as I let him push deep inside. His groan transfers into my chest, travels through my stomach to between my legs. I rub my clit as I suck him, choking, out of breath as he thrusts all the way. His obvious pleasure, his primal need, charges the air between us, making the atmosphere thick and heady.

I gasp as he suddenly pulls out.

“Bend over the bed!”

My legs barely obey me as I stand and wobble to the bed, falling forward, presenting my ass to him. The scars on my back throb, and the fear that he will add to them makes my heart gallop. I flinch when his warm palm slides over my butt, caressing, sending goosebumps down along my thighs. He’s not harsh, the touch is tender, but I hold my breath as I brace myself for pain.

“I don’t appreciate being told what to do, Chloe.”

The slap comes unexpectedly, no matter how much I anticipated it. It’s so hard it catapults me forward. I cry out and clench the comforter in my hands.

“In this house I give the orders.” He slaps me again, scorching my skin, and again, and again. I bury my face in the mattress, screaming. Then it stops. My legs shake so badly that I can barely stand. I jerk as he pushes his cock in between my legs, sliding it along my slit without entering. A hand on my back holds me down while his other hand finds my clit and expertly begins to caress it. I grit my teeth. He knows exactly how to play it. He’s brought me to the brink of orgasm more times than I can count.

My pussy swells, tingles, achingly empty. He’s so close. All I need to do is tilt my hips and he will fill me. It’s impossible to hold on to my hate when my body screams it’s good.

“You will come for me tonight, Chloe Becker.” His voice is dark, tainted with arousal.

“No,” I choke out.

“You will beg me to take you, to use your body as my own personal playground.”

I shake, fight the rising tension, fight the unholy need he awakens. “No.”

“I’ll claim your every hole while I spank your delicious butt until you scream, cry, and still beg me for more.”

My stomach tightens in fear as my pussy pleads for release. I squeeze my thighs together only to have him kick them apart.

“Why are you doing this?” I gasp.

He rubs my clit harder and then he suddenly thrusts his fingers inside me, pushing in and out. I come completely undone, my vision wavering as I thrash in an orgasm so strong it robs me of any sane thought.

“No!” I sob

My mind spins from the sudden change of position as he pulls me up off the bed and pushes me to my knees, thrusting his cock into my mouth. My pussy is still convulsing, feeling as if it will implode and I put a hand between my legs as he takes my throat until he stills, buried deep, his cock twitching.

“Fuck!” he roars, clutching my hair, staying until I think I’ll black out from the lack of oxygen, my chest burning with the desperate need to breathe.

His come dribbles down my chin as he pulls out. I fall on all fours and gasp for air. Salvatore crouches before me, his thumb caressing my lips, spreading the slick substance.

“You have one week.” His voice is soft, as if he’s a lover, and not threatening my brothers’ lives.

“Fuck you!” I scream and tear away from his light hold.

He laughs and stands. “Pull yourself together, Chloe. You know what you have to do. Now go wash up.”

I crawl backward, away from him, then I dart to my feet, wiping furiously at my lips with the back of my hand. “You’re sick!” I spin around and run to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me. The tears fall as I spend an eternity in the shower. When I finally come out, he’s lying naked, on his stomach, sprawled across the bed. His breaths are deep and even, the rise and fall of his shoulders almost making the dragon on his back come to life. He’s fucking sleeping! My heart leaps to my throat as my eyes dart between him and his discarded clothes, lying in a pile on the floor. Tiptoeing toward it, I sink to my knees and pat the fabric frantically, pinching it until my fingers come across a shape that makes my head spin with excitement. Keys! I pull them out, careful not to make a sound, then I put my clothes back on, never taking my eyes off the unreasonably beautiful man sleeping a few feet away. My pussy is still raw and swollen. I shudder. I can never give in to his demands. I have to get away or I’ll lose the very last piece of me.

Thankful for the thick carpet, I rush through the hallway. My hands shake as I try one key after the other and the air rushes out of my lungs when one suddenly turns in the lock and a click is heard. I glance behind me, then I pull the door open a sliver, slip through the crack, and close it behind me just as silently. My heart beats so fast that I think it’ll tear loose. The large room is dark and I don’t see or hear anyone. I run to the double glass doors that stood ajar this morning. They unlock with a sharp snap that makes me gasp, then, without a second thought, I pull them open and I’m out!

The stones are chilly beneath my naked feet. I rush soundlessly in the dark, across the patio and onto soft wonderful grass. I haven’t felt grass, or the breeze on my skin since I don’t know when. Months and months! Suddenly the lawn is flooded in mercilessly bright light. I stop flat, like a deer in headlights, looking around me, near blinded, then I run toward the darker parts, toward bushes and trees, my heart in my throat.

“Chloe!”

His roar makes my knees fold and I stumble, fall, smack my knee into something hard, get back on my feet, keep running. Twigs slap my face, I stub my toes against roots, tear up the skin on my naked arms as I plow blindly through the foliage. I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t know if there’s a way out. I just know I have to try.

Something massive slams into me from behind, knocks the air out of my lungs, and I fall to the ground. Salvatore grabs my arms, pinning them on my back as he sinks down on me. I kick and squirm. He pushes my arms up higher and phantom pain from where my arm was once broken makes me go completely still. He breathes heavily, says nothing, then he leans in and puts his mouth to my ear.

“Impressive. But I’ll always be faster, always stronger.”

I let out a whimper, anticipating pain, punishment.

“Tomorrow,” he whispers, “you are going to tell me about Christine. For now,” he grabs around my chest and pulls me to my feet, “we’re going back to bed.”

I’ve had more lives than most people. The child Christine Bourne, loved, happy, cared for. The orphaned youth delinquent and thief, Chrissy B. The accountant and forger of a false identity Chloe Becker, and now the captive, the slave to a mob boss, and my name probably doesn’t matter anymore.

I wonder if this will be my last life.

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