Page 19 of His to Hold

“Bella.” My tone is gentle, but with a hint of warning. She’s in a dangerous mood and may take us along a path neither of us wants to tread.

She leaps to her feet and pushes onto the tips of her toes to get right in my face.

“Do it!” she screams at me. “Use me. Make it hurt.”

I grab her shoulders and haul her closer. “You’re playing with fire, Isabella.”

“So burn me.” There’s such desperation in her voice, I quash my desire to give her what she’s asking for.

Letting go of her, I step back. “I’m not doing this, Bella.”

“What?”

“I’m not letting you make me the villain.”

Her lip curls into a snarl. “Oh, you’re the good guy now, are you?”

“I never said that, but in this situation, I’m not the bad guy.” I lean a little closer. “You’re the one who’s sinned this time, Mrs. Volante.”

Anger flares in her eyes. I see the slap coming, but do nothing to stop it. The crack of her palm on my cheek reverberates around the room. Isabella’s eyes widen in shock. I have to admit to being surprised, too. That actually hurt.

She turns to run, but I grab her by the arm and swing her back around to face me. She fucked up, and she knows it. Her mouthing off a bit I can forgive, but she can’t be allowed to strike me without facing the consequences of her actions.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts out. “I didn’t mean…”

“Oh, I think you did.”

Backing Isabella up, I shove her against the wall. Grabbing her wrists, I pin them above her head. I bring them together so I can hold her in place with one hand while I use the other to grab her chin. When I bend to kiss her, she whimpers before I even begin my assault on her mouth. She’s afraid and so she should be. I wasn’t going to touch her when she’s clearly in an emotional state. My chivalrous restraint flew out the window the moment she slapped me. Now I have to remind her who’s in control.

I kiss her the way I intend to fuck her, with a raw savagery. My tongue invades her mouth as she parts her lips. She tastes of mint toothpaste, but there’s a lingering hint of garlic from our dinner. It’s not enough to ward me off.

Isabella doesn’t kiss me back, just lets me ravish her mouth. My tongue slides over hers, pushing deep. My lips punish hers until they’re swollen and bruised. Whining, she tries to free her hands from my grip. When that doesn’t work, she sinks her teeth into my tongue. The distinctive metallic tang that fills my mouth tells me she drew blood.

I draw back and smirk at her. The little minx scowls back at me. Letting go of her wrists, I grab the edges of her flimsy camisole and rip it apart, revealing those gorgeous breasts. They’re small and round, a perfect fit for the palm of my hand. Cupping her breast, I dip my head and suck her taut nipple into my mouth. I swirl my tongue around the areola and then bite down hard, but not enough to break the skin. Isabella cries out. She tugs at my hair and I allow her to pull me off her.

Darting my hand out, I grab her throat and squeeze, just enough to make her eyes widen in fear.

“Is this what you want from me, Bella?”

She sucks in a breath as my fingers tighten around the base of her delicate neck. Her hands come up to my chest, but she doesn’t try to push me off her. She’s trying to make a connection, to cut through my anger so I’ll release her before I actually choke her. What she doesn’t realize is I’m not in any danger of losing control here. She’s pissed me off, but I’m not close to snapping.

“You want me to treat you like a whore?”

Not giving her time to answer, I let go of her throat and spin her around to face the wall. She gasps as I drag her shorts and panties down her long, lean legs.

“Step out of them.”

She takes a second too long to respond to my command, so I spank her ass three times in quick succession, drawing a startled yelp from her.

“Hands on the floor,” I instruct her, “legs spread.”

This time, she obeys without hesitation. She widens her stance, bends at the waist and places her palms flat on the floor. Her hair fans out over the sage green carpet. My wife used to practice yoga. I wonder if she still does. Her flexibility and balance are impressive.

Shoving my pants farther down my legs, I grab Isabella’s hip to hold her in place and position my cock at her entrance. I don’t need to touch her to know she’s ready for me. The evidence of her arousal glistens on her pretty pink pussy. I push in slowly, feeling each inch gliding through her wetness to be gripped by her tight channel. It’s like being welcomed home. I both love and hate that I feel this is where I belong.

Slowly, I slide out and back in again. Isabella’s body trembles. I repeat the motion and she whimpers.

“Tony.”

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