Page 12 of Sins of the Son

He towered over me as he spread his legs, pressing his erect cock against my stomach. He leaned down and moved his head close to my neck, inhaling. His lips brushed my jaw as he spoke. “It won’t work, beautiful.”

I tensed the muscles in my arms to keep from trembling. I didn’t want him to know how much his nearness affected me. My eyes narrowed. “What won’t work?”

He placed his right forearm high over my head as he leaned in.

I braced as I waited for the irrational claustrophobic-like fear to seize me deep inside my chest, cutting off my air and making my head swim. It didn’t come.

Cesare used his left hand to grip my jaw, pushing my head back as far as the shower wall would allow. His fingertips painfully dug into the soft flesh of my cheeks. “Use all the soap you want. You won’t get rid of my scent on your body. It’s not just on your skin. It’s deep inside that tight virginal pussy of yours.”

I gasped.

His fingers tightened on my jaw, cutting my inner cheeks with the sharp edges of my teeth. He then drove his other hand into my hair, twisting his fingers into my short curls.

His mouth fell on mine.

He didn’t kiss.

He laid siege, seizing power.

He dominated.

He controlled.

He claimed.

His tongue pushed between my lips and dueled with mine, not only tasting me, but once more devouring me. His head slanted to the right, then left, then right again, as if to keep me off-balance. His stubble scraped the soft skin of my lips and jaw as he ravaged and plundered. His hand slipped lower to grip my ass.

I squealed as I lifted onto my toes. The movement caused me to grind against his hard cock.

I hated how my body responded when he held me like this. The way he leaned over me. The show of strength and power. It should have me raging. It should trigger a trauma response, but again, it didn’t. I felt annoyingly safe. I was sure it was just some stupid, primal, cavewoman response, probably why they'd kept getting dragged around by their hair into caves to be ravaged.

My mind rebelled. He may not be triggering me, but I still hated him. I still wanted nothing to do with him. I fought, biting him.

His head reared back, and he flicked his tongue out to lick the bead of crimson which had formed on the plump center of his lower lip. The sound emanating from him started as a low vibration within his chest before erupting in a growl torn from between his clenched teeth. His dark eyes glowed with feral purpose as he gripped me tightly around the waist and lifted me off my feet.

I kicked and clawed at him to no avail as he carried me out of the shower.

He took several steps before placing me on the wide, marble island. It was hard not to feel like a virgin sacrifice to a demon god.

My wet body slid on the surface as I scrambled to get away from him.

He captured my ankles and pulled me toward him. My ass was almost to the edge when he wrenched my thighs open.

I stretched out my arms, trying to reach the brass, mirrored vanity tray full of perfume bottles. I pulled it toward me with my fingertips. The moment it was close enough, I grasped the nearest bottle and launched it at Cesare’s head.

He lifted his forearm, deflecting it.

The bottle smashed on the floor, sending a sensual cloud of cardamom, vanilla, and jasmine wafting into the surrounding steam.

He reached over my body and shoved the perfume tray out of reach. He bent his head low between my legs, his breath hot against my cunt. “Careful, babygirl. I bite back.”

My eyes widened. I tried to close my legs, but his wide shoulders prevented me. “No, I don’t want you to….”

He flicked his tongue between the seam, teasing my clit.

My mouth dropped open.

He repeated the gesture, this time more slowly.

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