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A tear fell free, making a lone path down my face that he leaned forward and licked off my cheek. "Please don't do this," I begged, trying to shake my head no. He ignored the plea and slid his hand further down my belly. Over the line where my underwear should have been if he hadn't stripped me naked while I slept. Over the very center of my womanhood, until he slid a finger between my lips and bumped it against my clit. With my legs spread around his hips, he moved through me smoothly until his finger brushed up against my entrance.

"I don't think my pussy wants me to stop, Princesa," he murmured, gliding his finger inside of me. Like the traitorous thing it was, he met no resistance as he pressed all the way inside me. Not even as he added a second finger, pumping them in and out of me slowly because of the restriction of my weight on top of his hand. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want me," he said. "If you can do that without lying, I'll give you clothes."

The arrogance in his voice infuriated me to no end, driving me mad with the need to prove him wrong. Glaring at him from the one eye where I could see him, I forced my lips to form the words. As he leaned further into my space, his lips touched the corner of my mouth, feeling mine move as I spoke. "I don't want you," I spat. "Not like this."

"Hmm," he hummed. "That tasted like a lie. I think you don'twantto want me, but you damn well know that you're mine, regardless."

"I hate you," I hissed, jerking my head back from his as he shoved a third finger inside me and pumped them furiously.

"That one was true," he chuckled. "Such a shame that I do not fucking care. I gave you the chance to love me. I'll take your hate instead." Pulling his fingers out, he shifted his weight behind me as he shoved the shorts down his thighs, tightening his grip on my hair as I struggled beneath him. "Last chance to convince me, Isa."

"Fuck you! You'll just take what you want no matter what I say," I said, snarling at him as he leaned forward and bit my bottom lip.

"My world, my rules," he chuckled, sliding his cock between my folds as I squirmed beneath him. The worst torment of it was how good it felt, how much Rafael made me want him.

It made no sense, but it was true, no matter what I tried to tell myself. I had to force down the moan that threatened to climb up my throat, trying to tear itself free from my deepest shame. "I don't want to be in your world!"

"Well, that's just too fucking bad, because you areneverleaving it, Princesa." He growled the words, notching himself and thrusting inside me with one smooth glide that struck against the end of me so harshly I jolted forward on the bed. His hand still held my hair, pulling me back as he withdrew and pulling tighter so I couldn't move with the next punishing thrust of him inside me. "You will never leave me again, do you fucking understand me, Isa?" he asked, holding me still as I struggled to get a grip on the sheets. I felt desperate with the need to claw something to deal with the mix of pain and pleasure threatening to tear me in two. I couldn't handle the dichotomy of sensations, the turmoil of my emotions exploding inside me.

I wanted him. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to watch him bleed out, and he brought out that worst part of me. The forbidden desires and the violent impulses. The rages that I'd shoved down deep so I wouldn't become like Odina.

He pounded himself into me with aggressive strokes, claiming the deepest part of me for himself as if he could fuck through me. His own anger was potent in the air, matching my own as he took it out on my body. He withdrew as suddenly as he'd entered me, grabbing a leg in his grip and turning me to my back. His hand came down on my throat, a solid weight as he pressed me into the bed and shoved back inside me violently. His beautiful face was twisted with malice, the pure hatred he felt for me now written in every line of his expression. I wanted to be free of him and wanted to comfort him all at once.

I wanted to tell him that it had broken something inside of me to walk away, but I'd done it because he'd left me no choice.

I couldn't abandon my life back home for a murderer.

His grip tightened as he lifted my ass off the mattress with his other hand, resting it on his thighs so he could get deeper. I couldn’t hold back the moan that caught in my throat. With my ass higher than my head, blood slowly trickled into my skull past the hand he pressed against the front of my throat. My breathing was restricted as he leaned forward and bent his body over mine.

His lips touched mine in the first kiss he'd given me since I'd woken up, the gentleness of it feeling like a mockery of everything I'd thought we shared before I'd fled in the night. I cried, tears building in my eyes as I held his gaze. As I realized that everything I'd loved had been destroyed by our choices.

Gone and replaced by nothing but a simmering rage that pulsed between us, threatening to burn us both alive. He kissed the spot where my tear fell, sighing when I lifted a hand to touch his face gently. He leaned into the touch, seeming to crave the affection we were missing as much as I was. "I will fucking kill you the next time you try to leave me. Do you understand me?" he asked, making my eyes go round as I stared up at him. "There is no place on this Earth that you can hide from me, Princesa.Eres mia." My bottom lip trembled as my hand fell away, and I stared up at him in shock. He'd terrified me, but some part of me clung to the hope that he would never truly hurt me.

That he loved me, beneath all the dark edges of his soul.

"I understand," I whispered as his grip eased up slightly on my throat, still pinning me in place but almost with the gentle caress of a lover. His thrusts inside me still jolted my body on the bed. He still fucked me like he wanted to live inside me.

As if he thought the way to reconnect with me was through sex, when sex had never been our problem. Our problem was that our lives were shrouded in mystery, in secrets that kept us separate and meant we could never truly know each other. He might have been ready to lower his walls and reveal the truth to me, but I would never be ready to tell him my sins.

I'd take them to my grave, whether it was Rafael Ibarra who put me there or something else.

He reached down to stroke my clit as he fucked me, the wet sounds of our coupling echoing through the room proof of the fact that I might have been more turned on by his violence than I'd ever been when he was gentle with me.

The conflict I felt over that wasn't enough to force down the orgasm building in me, not even when his thrusts lost their rhythm and he approached his own climax. I whimpered my release, clenching around him as I came and digging my nails into the side of his arm where I grabbed him. He groaned, following me over the edge as he thrust into me a few more times and then stilled, dropping his weight on top of me as I fought to catch my breath.

The reality of what we'd done, of what I'd let him do, came crashing over me as I fought for breath, but I tried to push it away.

It was done. I couldn't change it, and all I could do was try to find a way to make Rafael understand why I couldn't stay. He shifted his weight back to his knees as he pulled out of me, and I stared down at him in horror as I clenched my eyes closed.

I huffed out an irritated breath, opening my eyes to stare at him in disbelief. I supposed protecting us against pregnancy when he was pissed off was too much to ask. I sat up, trying to ignore the liquid that leaked free when I went more vertical. "I need another morning-after pill," I said.

His cold stare held mine for a moment before it fell to the space between my legs. He touched a finger to my entrance, coating it in his release before he shoved it back inside me.

"No," he said, wiping the moisture on his finger on my thigh before standing from the bed. I gaped after him, scrambling to stand up and wobbling on fuzzy legs. Whether it was from the drugs or the sex, I didn't think I'd ever know.

I certainly didn't want to have a repeat of being drugged ever again just to find out. "What do you mean no?" I asked as he reached out a hand to steady me.

He sat me back down on the bed, trying to force me to lay down. "You need to rest," he said, but there was no warmth to the statement. No concern for me, just a dismissal.


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