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There are additional bruises on her thigh, knee, and calf. And I know they must be from someone because she has stiffened in my arms. She’s hiding something from me, and I won’t accept it.

“Who did this?” I repeat.

When she doesn’t answer, I wrap the length of the rosary around her neck until it bites into her skin. She strains against the rope to lean back into me, fighting the tightening of my fist.

“Who, Ivy?”

“Perhaps it was your doctor,” she snarls at me with such vehemence, it shocks me into loosening my grip.

The beads cascade back over her breasts, settling between the mounds.

“Doctor,” I echo, my mind coming back to Abel’s hand-delivered purity test.

“The nightmare of a doctor you sent me to!” She hurls the words out with a bitterness that catches me off guard.

“Who told you I sent you to him?”

She falls quiet again, chest heaving in anger. There is a fire in her I didn’t expect, and I find that I like it.

“Answer me.”

I slip my fingers back between her legs, and she tries to squeeze them together. Slapping her inner thighs jolts her back into submission, and her head falls back against my shoulder as I begin to toy with her all over again.

“Santiago.” She sniffles. “Please.”

Her arms are growing tired. She can barely hold herself upright. But she must learn the true nature of endurance, for she will need plenty of it with me.

Discussing the doctor will have to wait. The night is escaping me, and I am yet to claim her. I let her know as much when I unzip my trousers and free my throbbing cock.

Ivy falls completely still, even as I stroke her sensitive clit and mold my body against hers. When she feels the hard steel of my flesh pressing against the softness of her body, she turns her head again, as if to see me.

“Don’t make me keep punishing you,” I warn her gruffly. “Unless you truly want to feel my roughness.”

She forces her head forward again, and I slide my cock between her thighs, soaking the length in her messy arousal. She’s so warm and soft, I don’t know that I have it in me to be anything other than rough with her. It’s been too long since I’ve felt a woman. I can’t think of anything else now.

I grip her hips and rub the head of my cock against her entrance, slowly exerting pressure until it starts to sink inside her. Her hands clench, legs quivering, and I have to hold her up by the waist as I tease just the head in and out of her in a torturous rhythm. I keep stroking her clit, building and building that pressure inside her. I feel her squeezing around me, and it isn’t enough. I need to feel everything.

With a sharp thrust, I tear through her virginity and seat my cock as deep as her body can take me. She cries out in surprise and then shatters as my fingers push her over the edge with frantic, unrelenting movements.

Her body squeezes me over and over again as the aftershocks roll through her, and I have to grit my teeth to repress the shudder of pleasure I feel from her tight pussy milking my dick.

“Fuck.” The word hisses through my lips, and there’s no holding back now.

I’m more animal than man when I hoist her ass up and pivot my hips back, slamming into her without mercy. Ivy wails, and the bedpost groans as the tautness of the rope and my body pull her in opposite directions. I close my eyes and get lost in the feeling of her warmth, her sounds, her sanctuary.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Somewhere in the back of my mind, logic is screaming for my attention. But I’m too lost to her to consider the reasons I’m petting her hair and kissing my way down her spine as I fuck her into oblivion.

She looks like a rag doll in my arms. So small. So easy to toss around and use as I please. I don’t know how this is going to work. I don’t know how to rein in my control, but right now, all I can think about is burying myself balls deep and filling her womb with my seed.

The rope around her wrists begins to chafe as Ivy’s weight sinks forward. She can’t hold her head up anymore, and I can’t stop. I hold her up with one arm as I yank the rope from the bedpost, leaving her wrists tangled in the remnants. I drop her torso onto the bed and roll my hips deeper and harder, thrusting without restraint until my balls draw up and I can’t hold off any longer.

My fingers dig into her hips with a bruising grip, and agony explodes out of me as my cock jerks wildly, emptying four years of frustration into my wife.


Tags: A. Zavarelli, Natasha Knight The Society Trilogy Billionaire Romance