Page 227 of Hell Hath No Fury
I quickly shake my head. “No. I’m more curious than ever, actually.”
He smiles, and the warmth that radiates off him makes me feel like I’m on cloud nine.
I’m still sitting on the table, wrists still tied, body numb with pleasure, and I just watch and admire him from afar. “I wish I could’ve had this sooner,” I mumble. “Maybe then I wouldn’t have—”
He places a finger on my lips as he treads close again, standing between my thighs, his cock still half-hard from the bout of sex. “You can.”
My pupils dilate.
“I told you this wasn’t for payment,” he says. “I want you to stay with me.”
“With you?” It sounds too good to be true.
“Be mine.”
The gravity of his words slowly sink in as I stare into his eyes, but there’s no lie to be found.
“Only if you want to,” he adds as he releases my wrists from their bonds.
I don’t even know how to respond as tears well up in my eyes. If I could stay here, forever, in this home, with this man … it would be the end of all my struggles. And the beginning of something new and exciting. “Am I dreaming?” I ask, completely overwhelmed with the possibilities.
He chuckles and caresses my cheeks. “If you are … let me make it come true.”
CHAPTER SIX
Vincenzo
Days later
Sitting on a small bench, I vigorously tap my foot, annoyed at how long it’s taking those nurses to help Emilia. She’d better not be in too much pain, or else there will be hell to pay for this clinic.
I look around at all the women waiting their turn. It can’t be easy being here. And I admire each and every one for being brave enough to come, despite the picketers trying to chase them off outside.
I grab my cup and take a sip of water, nearly squashing it with my hands when I hear the noise outside blasting over the gentle music coming from the speakers.
The woman working behind the counter, registering all the information of the women who come here, puts in a pair of earplugs and types away into her computer. She must be sick and tired of all those goddamn annoying people out there.
Maybe, when I’m done destroying the rich and feeding the poor, I’ll focus on them next.
Suddenly, the door in the back opens, and a nurse steps out. She walks toward me, bringing me a few papers. “She asked me to give you this.”
Her accent catches me off guard.
It always takes me a while to get used to it when I cross state lines. Sometimes it’s simple to forget.
“How is she?” I ask.
“Still recovering. You can go visit her if you want to.”
I don’t wait another second and put down my cup so I can be with her. I know Emilia needs someone now, more than ever before, and if I can be that person for her, it’d be my honor.
I head inside the recovery room, where she’s lying in a bed, her eyes turned away from the door, away from the world.
Tucking my hands into my pocket, I say, “Hey.”
Emilia wipes away her tears before turning to look at me. “Hey.”
“How do you feel?”
