Page 55 of Passion and Revenge

I whimper.

“Weren’t you?” He punctuates the question with a particularly harsh thrust that has me opening my mouth in a silent scream.

“Yeeeeesss!”

“Good girl,” he grits out. “Cum for me, baby. I want to hear you scream my name.”

I don’t disappoint. With his next thrust, I roar his name, “Alessandro!” And then I’m coming, shattering into tiny pieces while he puts me together and breaks me again and again and again.

For the first time in my life, I have an orgasm without a single touch to my clit.

I wonder if my captor has any idea how much he’s actually ruining me. I’ve been put back together into the shape of his desire, and I’m afraid I will never be able to go back to the Sienna I was before this blue-eyed devil touched me.

CHAPTER 18

Alessandro

“How do you know purple’s my favorite color?” Sienna peers at me as she holds up the floral purple blouse.

I told Maurizio to buy a few clothes in purple, but the fool must have gone around the city snatching up everything purple in her size that he could find.

Why the fuck did he buy a sunhat? Where’s she going to go in the hat? To the other corner of the room?

“The same way I know what books you read,” I answer, deciding to go for honesty. “I had cameras installed in your house right after I realized who you were at the gallery.”

She gives me a look. “Ah. So that’s why you ran out like your ass was on fire. I thought you were afraid of Veda.”

“Who’s Veda?”

“The pretty assistant who was slobbering all over you.”

If there was anybody else in that gallery aside from Sienna, I had no idea. It’s safe to say I have a bit of tunnel vision when it comes to her, which is why it’s best she stays in here. Because then she won’t distract me in the outside world, where I need to be on guard at all hours.

“Come here,” I order her.

She sticks out her bottom lip. “But I want to watch TV.”

Since the day she got on her knees for me, my relationship with Sienna has become one big mess. She’s still my captive, of course. I don’t intend on ever letting her go, and to my self-disgust, it’s less about punishing her father and more about the fact that I don’t think I can ever let her go.

The anger I initially felt at this realization was now a mere flicker of annoyed acceptance.

I’ve had four days to come to terms with it, and for all four days, we were at it like rabbits.

How can I be furious that I’m now addicted to my captive when every taste of her is sweeter than the last? It’s not her fault I’m too weak to stay away from her.

Or maybe it is her fault.

Maybe she should try a little harder to resist the man who’s keeping her for his twisted revenge plan, regardless of the new clothes and TV streaming subscription.

A different woman will feel bought.

Something about the situation gives me the ick. Almost like Sienna is my kept mistress.

When I start to think of unwanted thoughts like this, I take a hit of my drug of choice.

“Come here, Sienna,” I bark impatiently, my cock already throbbing. “We both know if I slide my hands into those little hot pink panties, my hands will come out drenched.”

Red climbs up her cheeks. “Th—that’s not true.”

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