Page 44 of Isle of Beauty

“You want me to punish you, mo cara? Want me to fuck you until you know for sure how much I despise you?”

His cruelty gets me wetter, the darkness of his promise an echo of the one my heart can’t contain. I glide my hand between us to cup his hard cock. “This feels nothing like hate.”

“Let me prove you wrong.”

It’s the only warning before he flips me to my stomach and tears my shorts and panties down to my knees, the cool air a shock to my heated skin. He drags his nails along my thighs and leaves his own marks and I hiss in pleasure-pain.

He grabs both my hands and links them behind my back in a hold that leaves me helpless to the assault of his fingers on my pussy. I buck against him, already soaking and ready to detonate when he glides them up and down my clit.

“So fucking wet for me,” he muses to himself.

The edge of wonder in his whispered voice threatens to have that fucking hope bloom in my chest again. Treacherous organ.

“I was thinking of my ex husband,” I lie and the words cut my throat like I just swallowed broken glass.

He growls and impales me on his cock in one deep thrust that has me cry out in ecstasy before he whispers in my ear. “Lie all you want, little wife. Your cunt never does.”

And then he fucks me, setting a punishing pace. My womb clenches, my head grows fuzzy and my vision softens around the edges. I’m only aware of where his body connects with mine, his thick cock stroking my walls, his balls slapping with the most obscene sounds. He hasn’t let go of my hands and the dominant hold has me ready to combust.

He must feel it because he stops and grasps my hair in a tight fist, painfully bending my head back to look into my eyes and sneer. “You’re not allowed to come, do you understand me?”

I gulp.

His face is set in harsh lines and I welcome his brand of punishment. I deserve it for leaving him and for letting these girls get abused under my nose.

Maybe he can get me absolution.

“Yes.”

With a hand on the back of my neck that feels like ownership and the other bruising my hip, he pumps into me and I whimper in pleasure. I hold my orgasm at bay and the sensation burns inside me. It’s pure torture but I’ll do it over and over again just to hear Pierce’s grunts of pleasure.

He withdraws from my abused pussy and I hear the sound of flesh on flesh before heat seeps on top of my ass. He comes with pained moans and my heart cracks a little.

This wasn’t meant to happen. For either of us.

The sound of shuffling fabric accompanies Pierce’s movements as he stands above my prone form. I don’t move, humiliated and raw.

I’m about to get up and pull my shorts back on before heading to the shower when soft cotton brushes the skin of my lower back in a tender caress. I’m frozen in place, muscles tense and breath held in my lungs.

I don’t move until Pierce stops and leaves without a word.

EIGHTEEN

PIERCE

THEY HAD IT COMING

After a week of brutal training three hours a day with Marcel, my muscles are screaming in pain but it settles my nervous energy and need for revenge. I might have been boxing since I was twelve but my trainer had nothing on Marcel.

I’ve even seen my father train here once a week to keep in shape, as well as Signore Moretti. I’ll admit, punching my dad under the cover of sparring was the highlight of my fucking week.

My little liar avoids me like the plague. She thinks I won’t see how affected she is by me and our little encounter on the mat. It’s in the way she blushes when I look at her too intently. She devours me with her eyes right back. She hates that she wants me but there’s no denying the lust written all over her face, and I’ll keep torturing her as long as I want.

Alessio, on the other end, welcomes me with open arms and if it wasn’t for Signore Moretti, I would have been even more involved by now. Every day, we go through the books. Mostly his legal activities. Retail spaces and other properties on Kalliste and on the continent.

If you live on Kalliste, especially in Sant Armellu, the capital, you have a fifty percent chance to live or rent a space in a building owned by Bartoli Holding. And a fifty percent chance to do so in a Moretti Holding. They own everything.

I’m boiling with annoyance at how impressed I am by the two men’s business acumen. And Julian’s too. I’ll keep him out of a prison when shit goes down, but everyone else is fair game, especially the patriarchs. They’re the ones who created the Y drug after all. I know that much even if I have no clue how or where their labs are located.

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