Emanuele's lips traced Isabella's body, his hands firmly gripping her breasts, kneading them sensually, causing Isabella to moan with a mixture of pleasure and pain, driving her wild.
Her clothes had been torn apart by Emanuele, leaving Isabella exposed. Emanuele eagerly sucked on her breasts, igniting a fiery sensation across her skin, making Isabella feel like her body was set ablaze.
Emanuele's hands ventured down her body, tracing her legs until they slipped between her thighs. Through her lacy panties, Emanuele expertly massaged her most intimate area, leaving Isabella's body quivering and her moans escaping her lips uncontrollably. Finally, Emanuele tore off her panties and began to stimulate her most sensitive spot with force, leaving Isabella gasping and rolling her eyes.
"Damn!" Emanuele growled, his fingers slipping inside her. He watched as Isabella's face flushed with pleasure. He kissed her passionately. "You're soaking wet."
Isabella felt incredibly embarrassed. She never imagined she would reach climax at the hands of a man she despised, let alone yearn for more.
Emanuele's movements were both rough and skilled, and Isabella couldn't help grinding against his fingers. She found herself clutching him, scratching his back with her nails, and crying softly.
At this moment, she felt like a wanton woman, yearning for more. Emanuele's gaze remained locked on her, as if he were observing her reactions after the climax.
As Isabella's body gradually calmed down, she looked at Emanuele, feeling a rising sense of shame that made her want to cry. How could she enjoy his kisses and his touch?
Why did Emanuele subject her to this humiliation repeatedly? Isabella felt on the brink of despair. What made it worse was that she actually enjoyed these sensations and craved more.
Emanuele seemed to regain his composure. He looked at Isabella, then got up and left the room without saying a word. The door slammed shut, leaving Isabella alone in the dark.
Darkness engulfed her, and the oppressive emotions welled up. Isabella felt like she was dying.
She immediately grabbed her estazolam and swallowed it, at this moment, relying on medication was the only way for Isabella to feel less overwhelmed.
Still, she couldn't shake off the deep sadness. Isabella knew Emanuele was cruel, but using sex as a means to control her was something she couldn't accept.
But once she had calmed down, Isabella suddenly thought of Emanuele's expression in the final moments – it was filled with desire, longing, and a conflicted struggle, filled with regret and pain.
Isabella had never seen these emotions in him before. Well, actually, in the few intimate moments they'd shared earlier, it seemed like Emanuele had always displayed a similar inner conflict. She just hadn't noticed it at the time because she was too consumed by fear and sadness.
Now, Isabella saw a different side of Emanuele, and it made her strangely hopeful.
Did this mean that she had the power to change the outcome of this game?
After leaving Isabella's room, Emanuele stormed into his study. Anger made him look like a raging lion as he swept everything off his desk.
Damn it! Why was it like this?
The image of Isabella lying in bed, completely exposed, her eyes glazed, her body climaxing repeatedly under his touch, haunted him.
She looked so innocent, like a delicate flower. Her once stubborn gaze was now filled with desire and craving. It made Emanuele want to rip his pants off and take her right then and there.
In that moment, Emanuele was acutely aware of his own desires. He wanted her, and no other woman would suffice. He couldn't stand the thought of Isabella describing Chloe's virtues to him in the car, wanting to introduce her to him.
It made him infuriated and unable to control the impulse to torment her, to stimulate her in bed.
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