"How could I feelanythingbut hatred for you after today?" I asked. I turned to face him, compelling him to feel my hatred in those moments before I knew he would take whatever he wanted from me.
He always did, and for some reason I was powerless to stop him. He made it so I didn't evenwantto.
He grinned, stripping off his suit jacket. His shirt followed and then his pants and shoes until he stood naked in front of me. "Then come ride my face and tell me how much you hate me,mi reina," he laughed. My thighs clenched involuntarily, the thought of that wicked tongue of his nearly permeating the haze of my rage.
But I held firm to it, stripping off the wedding dress I wanted no part in wearing. I stood in front of him for a moment, only allowing him the sight of my lingerie clad body for a brief moment before I shouldered passed him and made my way to the closet to grab real clothes. He lashed out a hand, grabbing me around the waist and tossing me onto the bed as I screamed my frustration. "Let mego!"
He tore the underwear down my legs, laying on his back as I tried to scramble off the bed. He reached out with muscular arms, grasping me around the waist and lifting me while I flailed. He somehow got my legs spread so that I straddled his chest, grinning up at me victoriously before he wrapped his arms around the back of my thighs and shifted me up his body.
The grip of his hand on top of my thigh indented my skin, holding me firm even though I tried to get away from his touch. Once he'd shifted me far enough up that my pussy rested above his mouth, he used his grip to pull my hips down into him. He devoured me without preamble, no teasing torment of his tongue exploring me to work me up to the intensity of his onslaught.
Just his tongue sliding inside me as he fucked me with it. I reached down, grasping a fistful of hair and pulling as if I could make him stop. But he only groaned against me, pulling me down harder until all that peeked out from between my thighs were his intense eyes that he kept on mine. I looked away as pleasure consumed me, trying to shove down the building orgasm that defied all logic.
My body belied my anger, and I felt so fucking stupid as my hips tried to shift. He loosened his grip slightly, letting my body take control as I moved slightly on his face. Giving him more ability to touch other parts of me with that sinful mouth, I slid my hips back and forth on his tongue.
Riding his face despite my best intentions, I shoved down the guilt I felt. Rafael was all I'd ever known.
He'd taught me about sex. He'd made me into a nightmare like him.
Just when my orgasm was about to take over, he lifted me off his face and tossed me down onto the bed face up. Sealing his body over mine, he slid inside me in a smooth glide with an arrogant smirk on his face as I moaned. "I don't trust you not to bite my cock off," he laughed, fucking me in slow, deep thrusts as he stared down at me. "Would you miss it,wife?" he asked.
"Fuck you," I growled, baring my teeth. He leaned forward, giving me more of his weight and taking my bottom lip between his teeth.
"We both know you would. You need me just as much as I need you. So just fucking admit it already and stop goddamn fighting me," he growled. My eyes fell to the four puncture wounds where I'd stabbed him, a moment of fleeting regret threatening at the edges of my consciousness.
To feel guilt for hurting him was ridiculous after everything he'd done to me.
He kissed me, finally ceasing his verbal torment to take me the way he wanted. His drives inside me shifted us further up the bed with the force of them, until the top of my head hit the headboard. Still he kissed me, consuming me until I shattered beneath him. Hating myself, hating him.
He followed me soon after, coming inside me and sagging his weight on top of me. "We could be happy," he murmured. "And we will be, once you admit that you love me."
He shifted his weight off me, letting me retreat into the bathroom to clean myself up and compose myself. Staring into the mirror, I had to wonder if he was right.
I couldn't love him. But I did.
And at what point was fighting those feelings futile? At what point did I just give in and accept my new life?
I didn't know if I'd ever have the answer to that question.