Page 54 of Split

I grit my teeth against the pain, struggling to break free of his hold. “I’m not!”

He folds his body over mine, pinning me tighter to the arm of the sofa. “Liar,” he whispers into the shell of my ear, his warm breath skating across my cheek. “You’ve got five seconds to come clean before I reach the end of my patience, Eliza.Five.”

My heart slams against my ribs.

“Four.”

I cry out in frustration, bucking against him.

“Three.”

Panic sets in.

“Two.”

“I’m scared, okay?!” I shout, my voice so shrill that it doesn’t even sound like my own. “You put the manor on lockdown, but you haven’t told me a thing about what’s going on! What do you expect me to do, just wait for something to come crashing through the front door?”

“You think I can’t keep my own wife safe?” he growls.

“Canyou?” I scoff, trying and failing to buck him off me. “What happened to your last wife, Roman?”

He glares down at me, something positively chilling lurking in those green eyes. “She forgot her place,” he replies coldly. “And it seems you’ve done the same.”

My heart trips over its valves, my blood running cold.

I knew it.

“Let go of me!” I shout, kicking and thrashing against him.

“No,” he replies callously, wrenching my head back so I’m forced to meet his soulless eyes.“You are mine, Eliza.Mine.Iown you, and that means I can do whatever I like with you.”

“Fuck you!” I spit, any sense of self-preservation flying out the window as years of repressed rage andresentment surge to the surface. “You don’t own me, nobody fuckingownsme!”

Roman chuckles under his breath, a cruel smile coming to his lips. “Wanna bet?”

Keeping me pinned with the weight of his body, he unfastens his belt, sliding it from the loops. I spit and curse as he wrenches my arms behind my back and wraps the leather tightly around my wrists, binding them together at the base of my spine while I spew venom at him. None of it fazes the devil I married. He proceeds to push my sweater up my waist and yank my leggings down, my panties coming with them. Gripping my hips, he kicks my legs apart, lines up, and shoves into me from behind.

A scream tears from my throat as pain splinters between my thighs, rippling through me as my husband asserts his possession with deep, forceful thrusts. He drags me backwards to meet every one of them, his fingertips digging bruises into my hips as he drills his savage claim into me.

“Who owns you, wife?” he grits out, the smack of his pelvis against my ass reverberating through the room like depraved applause.

“Fuck you,” I hiss, even as the pain slowly gives way to pleasure, the friction of my clit against the arm of the sofa building with every hard punch of his hips. I can’t contain mybreathy moan as my climax builds, hating the way my body reacts to his debasement. Right when my release is in reach, Roman abruptly pulls out like the sadistic bastard he is, sliding the tip of his cock up to notch against my rear hole instead. I yelp, my body instantly tensing in apprehension.

“Wrong answer,” Roman murmurs as he pushes against the tight ring of muscle, landing a hard slap on my ass cheek that makes my body jolt. “Who owns you, Eliza?”

I gasp as he forces the head of his cock past my resistance, gritting my teeth against the burning stretch. Still, I don’t give him the response he’s seeking.I won’t.

The pain only intensifies as he works his thick cock in deeper, a feral groan vibrating from his throat at the tight fit. I sink my teeth into my quivering lower lip to stifle a whimper, tears springing to my eyes.

Fuck, ithurts.

I choke on a stilted inhale as Roman starts pulsing his hips, fucking my ass in shallow thrusts, pushing in further with each one. When he’s fully seated, he grabs a fistful of my hair, my back arching as he yanks my head back and ups his pace, not giving me nearly enough time to adjust to the foreign sensation. A broken cry falls from my lips, tears freely flowing down my cheeks.

Like always, my pain only fuels him, his thrusts turning wild. At this point I’m not sure if I’m crying because it hurts or because it feels good– the ache is somehow starting to blur into rapture, overwhelming my senses as my mind goes gloriously blank. It isn’t long before I’m hurtling toward a soul-sucking climax, and the only thing left to do is let go.

My muscles seize as my orgasm rockets through me, Roman cursing as I clench around him. With a final buck of his hips, he floods my ass with the heat of his release, squeezing my cheeksroughly as he empties inside me. Then he pulls out and I collapse limply over the arm of the sofa, shuddering a sob.

I’m breathless. Numb. Violated. Empty.

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