The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance) novel Chapter 28

I don’t doubt he has the skill and lack of moral compass to do so. The man doesn’t have a conscience. He brings his forehead to mine and looks me dead in the eye, both of us immobile and silent as so much tension in the air crackles around us. My insides have turned to ash and I know I’m about to endure brutality like I never imagined.

I stifle a sob, my body shaking visibly, and yet he just sucks all the air out of me with one swift move. Alexi kisses me. Completely blows my head out of the water as he forces his mouth on mine and I respond, somewhere between relief and primal urge from high adrenaline. Kissing him back, letting myself go with a surge of craziness. My fingers framing his jaw instantly, his arms are around my waist in a second and he’s pulling me against him with a hunger that hits us like a typhoon. It’s like being dropped in a hot pool of water after being out in the cold, body heat and impulsive reactions are sizzling crazily and we both seem to lose all control.

I can’t stop him and yet my mouth won’t stop pulling at his; surrendering, caressing his tongue and biting his lip as he lifts me from my feet and pushes me back against the wall with the same force. He’s not gentle in any way, not that I ever expected he would be. Harshly pushing me and gripping so that I know his attentions will leave my skin bruised, yet it just makes me crave for more. My fingers raking his scalp as I try and curl them into his hair which is barely long enough to get a grip of. I want him so badly I lose all inhibition.

His hand cups my breast as he pushes against me and next thing I know I’m on the floor, my body meeting ground abruptly and winding me with the force. He’s on top of me, yanking my knickers off roughly, ripping them free and burning my skin cruelly as my nails rake his body, and he pushes my legs open with a knee. He shoves his own underwear down far enough to get free and I arch when I feel him spring against me, teasingly good. He kisses me fiercely, teeth hitting teeth, biting my lip and devouring me like a hungry animal—all over its dying prey and ravenous.

He doesn’t care about how rough and unsynchronised this is; it’s just pure animal. I was right about one thing—he has hot Italian blood, and this is mind-blowingly hot. I feel his erection out with one hand and grasp it tight enough to make it grow harder; rubbing him, clutching at him and suddenly consumed with a need to feel it inside of me. I’m practically begging him to do this and no longer feel anything except an all-consuming burning need to have him in me. Cravings so strong it feels like I’m an addict needing a fix. I may lose my mind if he doesn’t give it to me.

There’s no gentle or slow about it as Alexi grabs my wrists and pins me to the floor roughly, almost slamming my arms against the hard surface as I yelp. He moves to bite and kiss my neck, lifting and arching his body to fit mine and then practically pushes me across the surface with one almighty thrust—with a cruel force he rams himself into me spectacularly. I cry out with a muffled moan as his shoulder covers my mouth and stifles it. There’s no work up, foreplay or anything preluding to sex and now I know how he’s choosing to punish me for hitting him.

Even though it’s consensual and I wanted this, there is no pleasure in what he does to me and I’m reminded that Alexi is a bastard of epic proportion and not someone you ever fuck with. I hit him and therefore he made sex his weapon, making a point of hurting me in response. This is his brutal payback. He doesn’t hit women, but he finds other more sadistic ways of getting his own back.

A few seconds of burning, stinging and discomfort; he grinds into me, filling me, making my body rise and fall with every thrust and despite myself and how much I am screaming inside my own head about how much I hate him—I start to moan out with every thrust and movement as he slows and starts to circle against me more evenly. It’s almost as though he’s now trying to get me to feel some pleasure. I took my punishment, a stinging quick pain that equals the one I gave him and now he’s over it.

Alexi is a sadistic wanker. I wasn’t ready for him, yet somehow so quickly my body is finding something worthy of enjoying this. I can’t move, he is making sure my protests to being restrained are ignored and I’m literally held, arms and legs open and wide for him to take me any way he pleases. I can handle this face on though, my issue is being taken from behind.

His aggression is abating, and he seems to be getting into a more relaxed rhythm as the first sharp pain numbs into aching and longing. I bite his mouth when he comes for another kiss, angrily and passionately, and he grins instead, that sadist in him enjoying my fight and I just fight harder. Fuelled with my rage that he would fuck me like this as a punishment for defying him.

I want him, but I also want to hate him, and I am not giving in like some wanton wench that easily. I turn my face away from another attempt at a kiss and he swoops in at my ear instead, biting the lobe as I bite on my own lip in ecstasy. Alexi may be a rough and selfish lover, but he has natural skills in firing a woman’s body to a fever pitch, and I am not immune. It’s all that solid mass of muscle and testosterone. He has ample equipment and there’s not much he can do wrong when his natural size hits every good spot inside of me. He can be a lazy lover when he has the right tools that require minimal effort.