Page 60 of Caruso
RAPIST
This time she reaches for my hand, and as I follow her from the room, I fall a little harder for the woman who murdered her way into our hearts.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Taylor
It surprises me that violence turns me on. When Giorgio battered the beast in the ring, I was almost panting with lust for him. When he severed Oscar’s hand, I almost swooned, and as I carved the warning into Oscar’s face, I only had one destination in mind.
I lead Giorgio to my bedroom. The one Matteo gifted me on the first night here. The one I have no use of anymore because I stay with Matteo now—until Giorgio.
Taking him to my room means this is my decision. On my terms. I am in control, and I like it.
I make my own choices, not the ones others decide for me, and as we enter the soft, inviting space, I make short work of ditching my clothes.
His low hiss causes me to face him and say huskily, “You are still dressed. Why?”
He holds my gaze as he unfastens his pants, edgingthem down, revealing underwear doesn’t figure much in his wardrobe choices.
My eyes focus on the hard length of his cock, not as large as Matteo’s but still pretty impressive.
He holds my gaze with his, and I shiver at the sight of the dried blood caked on his skin, loving how it signifies his power, his violence, his craft.
I love how dirty this is, wrong even, and as I advance toward him, I whisper, “Make it hurt.”
His eyes widen as he understands my meaning. I can’t explain it to myself, but he appears to understand, judging from the small light of understanding in his eyes.
He says nothing and reaches out, gripping my neck hard, forcing me back against the wall, heavy-handed and unforgiving. He holds me there, suspended from the ground, naked and needy as my entire body pulsates for him.
His thumb brushes against my aching clit, causing me to groan, a strangled sound that proves he has all the control.
He wastes no time and pushes three fingers in hard and deep, curling them inside me as he rubs my clit with his thumb. His wicked eyes stare into mine, hard and unyielding, and my body shakes as he fucks me with his hand while holding me captive.
My mind blurs and my breathing shortens as I fight so many sensations at once.
I almost lose consciousness as they battle inside me, and then he drops me with no warning, my body landing with a thump on the ground. I don’t have time to processit before he flips me on my back and grasps my ankles, dragging me across the floor to where his pants lie in a crumpled heap. He grasps the belt and flips me around, securing my hands behind my back, the leather biting the delicate wrists.
Then he forces me onto all fours, my ass an offering to him, and he positions his cock at my pussy and grasps my hair.
“Ready for this, angel?”
He whispers in my ear before clamping his hand over my mouth and pushes in hard and with force. I scream into his hand as he fucks me roughly, without care, his hands pulling on my hair, causing me pain. He is relentless as he punishes me for ever believing I can control him and as he demonstrates who really calls the shots around here, I hate that I’m loving every minute of it.
He rides me like a cowboy who is definitely not on his first rodeo, his experience reminding me what a fool I am for believing I could control this man.
His cock punishes me by tearing me up inside, and he hisses in my ear, “Is this what you want, angel? Do you want me to ruin you?”
Tears leak from the corners of my eyes and splash onto his hand, which is still clamped hard against my mouth. I can’t move; he is too strong, and as he rams into me hard, his thumb brushing against my clit, he growls, “Come for me, angel. Give me that sweet honey.”
His words explode my mind as my body shatters into pieces, tumbling down over his cock, as he drives through my orgasm. It’s violent, immediate and cleansing, and allthe pent-up frustration, sexual tension and desire is unleashed on a waterfall of ruined sin.
He comes inside me with the ferocity of the beast he is, roaring my name, fucking his orgasm into me with a dominant brutality. He removes his hand from my mouth and wraps it around my neck as he pumps harder, squeezing softly, causing my breath to suspend on the wave of another orgasm.
It hits me as unexpectedly as a tornado at night. Spiraling my world into madness as I cling onto life. I don’t know where we are or what brought me here at all, but I’m smashing my respectability into shards of decadent madness as I allow myself to be ruined by this man.
I am out of control, caught up in chaos, unsure where I will end up, and as my orgasm fades, he turns his attention elsewhere. This time he spins me around, holding my bound wrists in one hand, his other hand scratching a path down my entire body as he stares into my eyes. “Do you want more, angel?”
I nod, biting my lip, unsure what the hell I have unleashed, and he grasps the blade from his pocket. The black handle of the knife rests in his hand, and his eyes are dark, crazy and demonic as he hisses, “You love the danger, the depravity and the ruin. Say it.”
