Page 43 of The Beast of London & His Pet

Alessio’s eyes widened, and his footsteps faltered before he shook his head and walked toward the toilet.

And just like that my equilibrium snapped back into place.

Chapter 27

Alessio

My eyes snapped open but my heart was pounding and sweat dripped off me. I blinked in the dark and the slow realisation dawned on me that Francesca was lying beside me with our child safe in her womb. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and pulled the covers off my side of the bed, careful not to disturb Francesca.

I slid off the bed and yanked my damp T-shirt off, rolling it up before tossing it into the laundry basket. The damn night terrors wouldn't leave, she had been abducted for twenty-seven hours but seeing her bloody, bruised and traumatised fucked me up.

The entire ordeal made me secure our home like Fort Knox. There was gated entry with my men on guard duty, and every window and door was secured. Night lights, high-definition cameras and Rocco became Francesca’s permanent detail. The panic room was being built and would be finished in the next few days, I worried about Francesca inhaling the dust.

She shouldn't be downstairs since the doctor had ordered her to remain in bed, but as she grew stronger she became more rebellious. I missed pounding her plugged ass into our mattress, fucking my sweet Kitten into oblivion always used to keep her in check.

Thankfully, it was mainly bruising, abrasions, with one cracked rib. When I saw her lying on that filthy floor, I thought she was dead. The doctor had checked all of her body and givenher a month of bed rest, depending on how her rib healed, the time might be extended to six weeks.

I helped her with the ice packs, creams and painkillers. Every single mark on her body was seared into my memory because I would make Clive pay for what he did to my Kitten. Vittorio had come clean with Francesca and I’d left them to talk after seeing that Francesca was able to handle the conversation.

I rubbed my chest to ease the ache when I thought of how our child clung to life, our little miracle baby. To witness Francesca’s joy when she learned that she was not only pregnant but no harm had come to our child was a moment I wouldn't forget. Her sorrow, guilt and trauma lessened from the good news. She had one more week until the doctor came to see her again. There was still a stubborn mark beneath her eye, a reminder of my failure to protect my wife.

Clive was kept in a cell I had created for sensory deprivation torture. He came out sporadically for short bursts of relief but only because I wanted him to be aware of what was happening to him when I hurt him in ways he had never imagined.

“Alessio?” Francesca said, her voice heavy from sleep.

“I’m here, Kitten,” I said, returning to bed.

In the first few days she was skittish and her eyes always followed me, so I ensured I remained by her side. While she slept, I worked on my laptop and when she was awake I annoyed the fuck out of her.

I slipped under the covers and Francesca was snuggling into me, her hand roaming over my neck where my tattoo was before she trailed it down my chest, teasing me as she got closer to the edge of my shorts.

“Il mio piccolo gattino arrapato,” I murmured, grabbing her hand before she reached my dick.My horny little Kitten.

“I can get you some pills if you need help, Sir,” she said before she sighed and put her hand on my chest.

“I can't wait until you are all healed up so I can fuck your asshole so hard that it knocks the sass right out of you,” I grumbled, placing my arm around her while she placed her head on my chest.

“I don't even care where you fuck more anymore, as long as you fuck me somewhere,” she sniped at me.

“Really?” I asked thinking about her elusive ass.

“Yes, really,” she said, her exasperation merging with her frustration.

“Fine, you had better not back out. You have another three weeks before your rib will be fully healed.”

“Three weeks?” she screeched, moving to sit up but I pushed her back down.

“Do you want me to make it four weeks, Kitten?”

“No, Sir,” she said sullenly before she settled down again mumbling under her breath.

I smiled in the pitch-black room knowing exactly how I could use my donkey dick against her. She would complete her bedrest exactly as the doctor ordered her to.

???

My men came to visit Francesca, they all sat around the bed on the chairs they brought in with them. I frowned at the array of balloons, flowers and teddy bears. Francesca’s delighted expression at all the gifts made me glare at the three stooges.

The bastards, why hadn't I thought of that?

---