Page 13 of Devil's Captive

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“What is it?” He steps to me, towering over me as I crane my neck to look at him. “I tried to choose things befitting a Fontana princess. Do you not like what I picked out?”

Despite his calm demeanor, he’s laughing at me. I can see it in his eyes, in the way he mocks me every time he calls me “princess.”

My resolve to play his game evaporates as quickly as my freedom did. “I’m not wearing that.” I hate the quaver in my voice.

“No?” His tone drops low. “Are you saying no to me, princess?”

I step back.

He matches me. His gaze eats me up, and I can’t tear my eyes from his face, from this man I’d never seen before in my life, but now he looms large. The dark hair, 5 o’clock shadow, sharp jaw, and pale blue eyes—all of it is seared into my mind, into my nightmares. He’s a handsome man, no one could deny that, but his cruelty obscures his beauty.

“I asked you a question, princess. Are you telling me no?”

“I’m not wearing that.” I step back again.

He reaches out, his hand gripping the sheet and yanking it down as I try to grab it. He’s too strong, his grip sure as he pulls it to my knees despite me trying to hold it and pull it back up.

When his hand goes to my throat and wraps around it, I scream and try to shove him away. It doesn’t work. He walks me backwards, my sheet gone, and shoves me onto the bed.

I scramble back, getting to my knees and fisting my hands.

He looks me up and down, his nostrils flaring. “You’re going to fight me?”

I’d kill him if I could, but I know that’s not possible. No one can kill the devil.

“Don’t touch me.” I edge backward toward the other side of the bed.

“You’re my wife. Of course I’ll touch you.” He watches me, his gaze following every minute move I make. He’s a cat, one with claws I’ve already felt. “I’ll do a lot more than that, princess. I’ll stuff you full of my come. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Stay the fuck away from me!” I scream and bring my pathetic fists up again, my entire body shaking.

He tsks, his gaze harsh as he stares me down. “If I wanted to, I could pin you to the bed on your stomach and shove my fat cock up your ass while you screamed. You wouldn’t be able to stop me.”

“I’ll scratch your eyes out.” I bare my teeth.

“I’ve already made you come for me.” He licks his lips. “Or have you forgotten the way you creamed all over your fingers while I watched?”

Shame coats me like oil, and I clench my eyes shut at the memory trying to invade. The worst part of it is the way my nipples harden, the way I feel warmth spreading through my chest and lower. Shame. Nothing more.

“No.” He laughs low in his throat. “You remember just fine, don’t you, princess?”

I snap my eyes open and raise my fists higher. “Stay away from me.”

He sighs as if he’s bored and tosses the maid outfit on the bed. “You wear this or you wear nothing. It’s your decision. But I expect you downstairs in five minutes.” Turning, he strides to the door, then pauses. “Five minutes, princess. If you take longer than that, I’ll come looking for you. And when I find you …” He walks out and doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t have to. He’s already made his threats.

“And don’t forget the shoes.” The laughter in his fading voice makes me rage and tremble all at the same time. He’s mocking me, poking at my pain like a sadist.

I collapse onto the bed once he’s gone, tears welling in my eyes as I hang my head.

6

MATEO

My phone vibrates as I sit at the dining room table and watch while Lucretia’s five minutes tick away. I click open my texts.

Carlito: I heard you’re married, and you hit the Marchellos. What the hell, Mat? You made that big of a move without me?

I roll my eyes.

Me: Yes.

Carlito: Why!?!

Me: You know why, idiot.

Carlito: I could’ve helped.

Me: The last time you ‘helped’ Benito almost lost a kidney.

Carlito: I’m coming home. Now.

Me: Unnecessary.

Carlito: You need me there.

I can barely stifle a laugh. Carlito isn’t the sharpest, but he’s loyal. That’s saying a lot in our world. Still, he’s my little brother, and I don’t need him underfoot when big moves are being made.

Me: Stay home.

Carlito: You just don’t want to admit you need me.

Me: I don’t need a clown, Lito. This isn’t a circus.

Carlito: Fuck you. Booking flights now. See you soon, asshole.

I sigh and pocket my phone. My younger brother isn’t cut out for this life. Never has been. He’s safer living in LA and making pots or whatever the hell it is he does. I don’t want him here when I’ve just begun the master stroke of a plan that will put me on top of all the families. But he has our mother’s stubborn streak. Nothing I say will stop him. I pull out my phone again and text Sonny the news.


Tags: Celia Aaron Erotic