Page 10

I’ve counted it as twenty-one days since I was kidnapped and, every day, I’ve been taken up to the room where he fucks me like a whore, then returns me to the basement like a prisoner. My feelings for him grow stronger, and yet he remains cold. I have a hunch that things are about to get a lot worse today when Tomas leads me into the room where I know he’ll be waiting for me.
“Afternoon.” Matteo places down his phone and dismisses Tomas with a flick of his fingers.
“I have something to tell you.” I force the words out of my mouth, but he’s already stepped up behind me, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck and forcing me to bend over the dressing table. Slowly, as the days have progressed, more furniture has been added to this room. There's a mirror in front of us now and I close my eyes to avoid looking in it as his hand slides into the front of my panties.
When I grab at his wrist to try and stop him, he forces me away with a confused look on his face.
“Since when did you start denying me?” He drags me back up by my throat so I’m taut with his body.
“I…I.”
The fingers from his other hand slip between my folds and I watch the anger spread on his face, through our reflection, as he pulls them back out and examines the red streaks of blood on them.
“I was trying to tell you…but...” Why the fuck do I feel ashamed, and worst of all, disappointed? It only confirms how crazy being in this situation is making me.
Matteo doesn’t hide his disappointment either and shocks me when his grip on my neck tightens and his blood-coated fingers swipe over my cheek, smearing it onto my skin.
“I guess we’ll just have to try harder,” he hisses at me spitefully, before backing away and leaving me alone. I grip the edge of the dresser in my hands, staring at my reflection, as suddenly the reality hits me.
Everything I feel for Matteo is one-sided. He has become my comfort, I crave him like a drug and I have no control over it. Perhaps it’s my coping mechanism to get me through the situation I’m in.
When Tomas comes back into the room and tells me to follow him I wipe the tears from my eyes, and the blood from my face, before pushing myself off the dresser and going with him. Back to the confines of the basement, where I’m nothing more than a prisoner.
* * *
It’s been five days and I’ve stopped bleeding. I haven’t seen Matteo since he left me in the bedroom that morning, and I hate him for ignoring me for all this time. I hate myself even more for actually missing him. He’s kept me supplied with the products I’ve needed and allowed me into the room to bathe once a day, but there has been no sign of him and it’s felt like a punishment. I realize now, why.
Matteo’s only intention is to make me pregnant with his child. He can’t do that while I’m bleeding and so, for the past few days, I’ve been insignificant to him. The door to the basement opens, and Tomas looks at me expectantly, so I get up on my feet with determination and follow him.
When I enter the room and see Matteo with his ass resting on the dresser and his legs crossed casually, I run at him and pull my hand back so I can slap the smug look off his face. He catches my wrist before I can make the connection and the smirk I saw when I first walked in here remains on his face.
“Missed me?” he questions, infuriating me even more.
I have no words for him, I want to cry but I won’t, something tells me he’d fucking like it.
“Tomas tells me you have stopped bleeding.” He releases me and heads towards the bed, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt before he pats the mattress for me to sit.
For the past two mornings, Tomas has asked me if my bleeding had stopped and it seems the word I sent him back with, earlier, has pleased his boss.
“I have,” I confirm.
“Then we must get back to work straight away.” He stands, waiting for me to go to him but I remain still, refusing to be the dog that heels after the way he’s made me feel.
“You’re mad at me.” He shakes his head and rolls his eyes like it's an inconvenience. Coming toward me, he slides his hand through my hair and it feels too nice to stop him.
“Sweet, little Aria, as pretty as you look when you are angry, your emotions are pointless. They aren’t going to change what will happen here, today. I’m still going to fuck you.”
“And what if I don’t want to be fucked today?” I swipe back at him. The smile he responds with gives me a real urge to scratch it off his lips.
“And to think, I was going to do something nice for you.” He shakes his head and shrugs, before crouching his body and lifting me up onto his shoulder. I protest as he carries me over to the bed and throws me onto the mattress. Giving me no time to try and break free, he grabs both wrists in one of his huge hands and pins them above my head.
I watch, restrained, as he unbuckles his belt with his free hand and I struggle against his firm hold when he tears open his slacks and takes out his cock.
“What are you going to do, rape me?” I snarl at him.
“You just tell me when to stop, Princess.” He looks down at me calmly and waits for my reaction as the thick tip of his cock rubs against the lace of my panties. My arms stop moving and, despite my anger, my hips automatically fidget against him.
It’s cruel, and devious, to use my emotions against me but I make myself a victim to it when I say nothing.