Page 113 of Cassio (Belles & Mobsters 3)

“Come for me,” I demanded in a hoarse voice.

A sharp cry left her mouth and her body arched off the bed, trembling underneath me. The sight of her orgasming was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

The bulge in my pants was so hard, it fucking hurt. I untied her and rubbed her wrists softly with my rough palms. She lay sated and relaxed on the bed. I wanted to bury myself inside her and fuck her into oblivion. Turned out, my grandfather’s preaching stuck deeper than I thought. Our wedding night made this lovemaking, not fucking.

“Hunter,” she called out softly. “I-I want you to-”

Her voice wavered. God, she couldn’t know how bad I wanted her. My cock was marble hard.

My hand gripped her nape and I pulled her closer to me. “I want to bury myself into your tight cunt,” I groaned. An attractive blush colored her cheeks. “But first I’m going to worship you.”

I took her mouth harshly, losing all my senses in her sweetness. This woman robbed me of everything - my control, my reason, my harshness.

Her lips trailed against my cheek, her nails sunk into my skin. I sucked in a breath, teetering on the edge of self-control. Her hunger for me fed my own.

I needed her desperately.

ChapterThirty-Six

ÁINE

Ifell asleep with my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat and his fingers caressing my back. With each strong heartbeat, I fell deeper and deeper into dreams where I felt nothing buthim.

And the memories buried in the fog.

“Just say a word and her torture ends.” I’ve come to hate his taunting voice. His menacing grimace. His menacing cruelty. I had never hated, yet what I felt since these men had taken me was pure hate. Fire burned in my lungs, wrath choked me. “Just.” Thrust. “One.” Thrust. “Word.”

My body shook. The school uniform I wore when I was kidnapped was filthy. Blood stains. Dirt. Fluids. This sick man liked to smear his cum all over my clothes after he was done with them.

Them. The women. The poor souls. If only I wasn’t such a coward. I should save them. Saytheword.

Bile in my throat mixed with rage, and rubbed my throat raw. So raw that I tasted blood.

I hated men. They were filthy, disgusting animals. My whole body ached, my eyes burned, but I couldn’t feel the tears anymore.

Only blood. In my nostrils. In my mouth. On my tongue. Pulsing in my brain.

“D-don’t c-cry.” The woman’s whimpered, broken up whisper pierced through the fog of hate. Her body jerked with each grunt and thrust, as my body shook like a leaf in the wind. I didn't realize I was crying. There had been so much of it; it became natural, like breathing. Her black hair dragged over the dirty floor, her one cheek I could see was swollen, a purple bruise and an ugly gash. “I-it’s,” her body jerked with each rough pound, “... okay.”

It wasn’t okay. None of this was. It wasn’t okay he was punishing them to get a word out of me. This sick bastard, Marco motherfucking King, wanted a single word to slip through my lips so he could bypass the older guy. I assumed it was his father who ordered him not to touch me.

'You can't break her in,' were the old man's exact words. ‘Not unless she gives you a word. That one is a hard headed mule.’

Suddenly the movements stopped and my eyes snapped up just in time to see his hand fly through the air and slap the woman. Hard. No, not slap. Punch her. He punched her so hard I thought I heard a bone crack.

“Did I give you permission to talk?” he bellowed like a lunatic. Another punch followed and I flinched. I didn’t want to see more of this. Of the despicable torture these man put those weaker than them through. It wasn't fair; it wasn’t right. They should suffer.

I opened my mouth to stop him from landing another punch when pounding on the door stopped him. And me from sayingthe word.

“I said nobody is to bother us,” he screamed like a lunatic.

“Amir says your helicopter is here,” a deep man’s voice sounded. “With your father.”

I barely blinked and Marco was pulling up his pants and striding towards the door. But not before he slapped me hard across the face.

“Stupid bitch,” he hissed. “I wonder if maybe you are mute and stupid.”

He disappeared through the door, and I rushed towards the woman. I didn’t know what I was doing, how to help her. I lifted her upper body up, my eyes darting to her open, exposed thighs.

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