We both keep our eyes open as we continue kissing; our eyes moving deeper into each other’s souls as we kiss. His eyes tell me to trust him, though he hasn’t promised he wouldn’t hurt me yet. I don’t have a choice but to trust him.
Even if I did have an option, I would still be here, trusting him. I would choose anything over my nightmares.
His eyes change. That’s what I notice first, and then a mischievous grin as he pulls away.
“What?” I ask, laughing, because it’s clear he has thought of something funny.
“Nothing.”
I raise an eyebrow, but he never answers me.
“Take a deep breath,” he says.
I’m suspicious, but I slowly inhale, trying my best to trust him. He grabs my hands and shoves them over my head in one fluid motion while he kisses my neck.
“Matteo,” I cry out, not liking my hands not having control. Even though being able to move my arms wouldn’t be enough to stop Matteo if he wanted to rape me.
He kisses my neck, and I come unglued from the way he is sweetly kissing, lapping over my neck, making all the nerves in my body tingle.
“Tell me you don’t like it. Tell me you want me to stop.”
I moan loudly as his kissing turns to nibbling and then biting.
“Stop,” I moan, but my cry isn’t compelling.
He grins against my neck.
“I don’t believe you.”
I swallow.
His mouth drops to my hardened nipple, and I freeze thinking of the last time a man’s teeth were there. How rough and terrifying it felt and how it was the final step before he plunged inside me.
He doesn’t hesitate at my anxiety. He takes my nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around before biting, hard.
I yelp at the sudden pain, but it’s not pain. Not like when Armas bit me, although I’m sure they both bit me equally hard. There’s a difference; one I can’t figure out.
“Tell me to stop,” he says again, with his teeth still tightened against my nipple.
“Stop,” I say, but it’s softer than the first.
He moves to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment, my back arches against his lips, wanting him to take my nipple into his mouth deeper, to bite harder.
I feel his cock against my stomach as I arch my back, diving into my belly, pressing harder, as his erection grows. It should scare me, the feeling of how large his cock is growing. He wants me, badly. And if I genuinely begged him to stop, he wouldn’t. He would hurt me worse than Armas. Both physically and emotionally.
“Grab the bars on the bed,” he commands as he pushes my arms up.
I do.
“Don’t let go,” he orders, his eyes threatening before he releases my hands. I keep my hands on the bars like they are tied up, and I can’t move them, though I can.
His dark eyes dip down as his lips travel down my neck, breasts, and stomach. His tongue tasting my skin, sending chills through my body and an ache I’m not familiar with deep in my belly.
I close my eyes, trying to gulp down my fears that are sneaking in. I know what happens next. Next, his cock drives in me. He’s not a nice man. He’s not going to wait for my body to adjust. He’s not going to wait for me to come or even attempt to make me feel good. He’s going to get what he wants and hopefully not hurt me too badly in the process.
I hold my breath, and Armas starts creeping back in while I wait for his erection to be pushing at my entrance.
Instead, I feel something much lighter and wetter. It traces slowly over my lips between my legs as hands gently push my thighs wider. His tongue laps over me and my eyes fly open to watch him.