Page 46 of Psycho

He darts his eyes away from me, like it’s painful to meet my gaze, and now I know he is aware how disgusting his actions are.

“I’m an evil man, little lamb. I do bad things, and no one gets freedom after coming for my family.”

Charging for him, I push him in his chest, and he stands solid like a damn boulder, only infuriating me more.

“You’re weak, Massimo Bonetti. You can’t handle whatever the fuck this is between us, so you want me gone. Because it makes you fucking uncomfortable. I’ll be tortured, and probably killed, because poor little Massimo can’t handle his big feelings.”

I hit a button, clearly, and he growls as he closes the distance between us, slides his hands in my hair, and kisses me. It’s not aggressive, it’s desperate and needy. He swirls his tongue against mine, as he walks me backward to the bed.

Pulling back from our kiss, he pulls my t-shirt off and drops it to the floor, while staring at me with a heated expression. Unsnapping my bra, he pulls the straps down my arms, until it falls to the floor. He kneels in front of me, as he silently pulls my skirt down, along with my panties. Pressing his nose to my pussy, he inhales, before letting out a soft groan.

Psycho swipes his tongue up my slit, and I grab onto his head for balance, whimpering as he hits my piercing repeatedly. The urge to push him away is there, but even now, my physical need for him overpowers anything else. It makes me hate myself, just like he wanted. The sight of him should make me sick, but this monster is the only thing that brings me comfort. I must have some kind of mental disorder, because this is insane, yet I can’t fight it. I wish I could. Massimo confuses me. In one breath, he makes me feel beautiful, and cherished. In the next, completely worthless. This man who is doing the worst things to me, things I never thought even a Bonetti would ever do, lights me on fire. I don’t want to want him, but I do. Desperately.

“Massimo,” I cry out, the pleasure all-consuming, just like he is. I look down at him, this powerful mafia man on his knees for me. At the moment, I feel safe. Safety is an illusion, since tomorrow he’ll throw me away like I’m trash. Like I don’t matter. If he goes through with it, I’ll know he’s right, and doesn’t feel a thing for me.

Rising to his feet, he lifts me and lies me down on the bed. I’ve never seen him like this. So quiet. He kicks his pants off, and climbs over me.

“I wish you had not come after my family.”

“Me too,” I whisper, and I mean it with my whole heart.

He pushes inside me, with a deep growl that I feel vibrate through my body, with his chest against mine.

“Massimo, please don’t do this to me.”

“Shhh,” he says, with his lips brushing against mine.

“What’s done is done. Let me have you one last time. Let me make you feel good, little lamb. Let me have what’s mine, until it’s not mine anymore.”

I wrap my arms around his neck, and cry into his shoulder, as he moves inside me. Had he killed me the night he took me, it’d be easier than this. The moment you realize you mean so little, to the man that you’re falling for, that he’d sell you, is not an easy one. The ache in my chest is so heavy, as he finishes inside me. He rolls over and pulls me into his arms, like I mean something, continuing to fuck with my head.

“Tell me about him.”

He sighs audibly.

“I told you, he’s violent. So you will need to behave. You don’t need details. The fear will be worse than what he actually does to you. It’s not helpful.”

Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to be the case. Why does he even care if I’m afraid? After all, he’s in control here, if he really gave a shit, he wouldn’t do this. Even Carlo never trafficked me.

“Have you ever bought a person?”

“No,” he answers, in a flat, emotionless tone.

“Would you?”

“No,” he responds the same way.

I bury my face in his chest, so angry at myself for wanting his scent, his touch, everything Massimo. Now I know, the boy I loved is gone, because he never would’ve done this to me.

“I’ll never forgive you for this. Ever. I’ll breathe my last breath while hating you.”

“I know,” he says, as he holds me tighter.

I’ve never been more confused in my life. He touches me like I matter, holds me like he never wants to let me go, but he’s selling me to a man that will be my killer. It doesn’t make sense to me.

How can one human do this to another?

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

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