Page 98 of Capo

“I can’t,” I gasp.

He looks me over, and then that stomach-flipping smirk reappears. “All right.” He leaves the room again and I exhale with a shudder.

He’s gone a few good minutes and when he comes back with his arms full of rags I scramble out of the bed on the opposite side, widening my eyes “No, Luci!”

“Yes, Chloe,” he says. There’s no threat in his voice. He sounds calm, his tone soothing, friendly.

My heart slams against my ribcage and I look around me, desperate for an exit, but I’m trapped between the bed and the wall. I scream when he darts up on the bed, dropping the rags, and then down on my side, pushing me into the corner, his hand on my throat.

“You can fight me,” he breathes in my ear, “but you can’t win. Submit to me and save yourself the trouble.”

I squirm, push at his chest, only to get my wrists caught. He circles both in one of his hands, his grip unrelenting, then he reaches for the pile of fabric on the bed and pulls out a strip of torn sheet that he starts wrapping around my wrists.

“I’ll bundle you up like a Christmas gift, woman, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” He wraps tight, but still not cruelly tight. I twist and wriggle, trying to throw myself to the side, but he wedges a thigh in between mine and keeps me firmly in place. When he’s done, my wrists are wrapped and he’s even finished with a neat bow.

“I hate you!” I spit.

“Yeah?” He slides a hand along my belly, in between my legs, thrusting his fingers inside my pussy. “Your slick cunt tells another story.”

“Fuck you!” I squirm and try to break free, gasping from the tingling heat.

“Oh, I’ll fuck you, all right. Get on the bed.” He spins me around and throws me on the mattress. I wriggle, trying to get off on the other side, but he straddles me and pulls out yet another strip, deftly wrapping it around a bedpost, then around my wrists.

“No! Stop it” I pull and try to get free, but I get no leeway.

Luciano snickers. “You’ll only hurt yourself.” He pushes me from my side and over on my belly, quickly switching position so that he straddles my thighs.

I kick and scream, but I have no chance against his strength and apparent experience as he proceeds to tie one ankle at the time to the bedposts by the foot of the bed. And to think I found that four-poster bed cute.

I’m naked, aching, lying on my belly, my legs spread obscenely wide, completely at his mercy. And I’m afraid again.

He stands and looks me over, his gaze gut-wrenchingly dark and hungry. “Do you want to keep fighting?”

I can barely breathe. He wants me to. He wants my fear, my fight. “It gets you off,” I say. My voice is faint, unsteady. It’s not a question. I know it does.

“I get off on pain, Chloe. On inflicting pain.”

“I know,” I whisper.

“Are you going to keep fighting? Or will you submit? Either way is fine with me.”

“I’ll fight,” I say as a thrill runs through me. “I’ll always fight.”

“Good girl,” he says. “I’ll always punish you.”

And right then and there, I realize it’s a game of sorts, that he will hurt me, but he will also pull me along for the ride. It’s a game, cat and mouse, predator and prey, and I’ll play it.

“You’re a sadist,” I say.

He puts his hands on my hips, caresses along the sides of my ass, spreading my cheeks, thumbing my slit, parting my lips. “I don’t care for labels. It might be so. Submit to me and let me show you what I can give.”

My eyes almost roll back when he pushes fingers inside my pussy, another finding my clit. “You don’t give,” I gasp. “You take.”

He snickers. “So defiant. You realize how vulnerable you are right now? I can do anything and everything I want with you.”

His words shoot a bolt of heady, thick need straight between my legs as he keeps caressing. I bury my face in the pillow and grit my teeth against the onslaught of sensations. A cool liquid between my ass cheeks makes me flinch.

“You don’t want to fight this, though,” he says, his voice hoarse, a deep rumble that makes goosebumps race across my skin. “Trust me.”

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