The screech of his shoes against the wooden stairs startled her. Her vision was somewhat blurry. She never liked drinking, not really. Trying to focus her gaze, she blinked, clearing tears from her eyes.

He was right there next to her, but she was alone. As a child, she never imagined that all of the real monsters in the world would be human.

Marlena didn’t really look at him, but she could feel his presence. Deep, long breaths echoed around her. Straightening up on the floor, she squinted, trying to adjust her eyes through the watery veil.

“Why can’t you just leave us alone?” she hissed, careful not to startle the children. He sat on the floor beside her, his heat scorching the air between them, and she cringed away from him. When his hand snatched her bicep and hauled her to him, she cried out despite wanting to be quiet.

 

He had killed before, that she knew. She didn’t know who and when, but their faceless heads were running in her head, their screams echoed in her dreamless mind at night.

And now, he kept them locked away, apart from John and lonely for love. Craved for comfort and connections.

 

“Oh, Principessa, why are you on the floor? The kids might see you” ignoring her words, but she didn’t think he wanted an answer. He never has. His hands stiffened as he rubbed them down his black pants.

“Why do you keep us?” she found the words leaving her mouth before she could think. Her drunken state has left her bold. When his head turned to look down at her, she gulped and tried not to faint under his gaze.

“You,” he said quietly.

“Me?”

“I keep you.” His hand cupped her cheek, and her chest restricted her from inhaling air. His body surrounded her, sucking the oxygen from the room, from her lungs.

She hated that.

“You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. And I've seen plenty” His breath hit her face with a puff of heat.

 

A thing?

 

Her skin crawled when his mouth came closer, and he inhaled the space between her ear and shoulder. It tickled when he sighed and nuzzled against her hair.

She will never get used to his abuse. His cruel words. His torture techniques.

 

She was not used to this — his gentle touch.

The eager crackle of energy in the air. She was terrified.

“We were interrupted before,” looking to the floor behind her, his dark eyes fell on the black device. “Are you going to tell me who'd you talked to?” he hummed into her neck, his hands balling into fists at either side of her head.

 

No…

 

“Don’t,” she managed to choke out. He raised above her, piercing her with his hollow eyes.

“Bene, I want you to remember we had a deal” His repeated words send a shiver of fear rippling through her. “And I’m not waiting any longer.” His tongue darted out and tasted her neck just below her ear.

 

She was frozen—too afraid to move. When his hand slid down the front of her blouse and clutched onto her breast, the world spun around her.

 

When she defied him before by refusing to take her dress off so he could watch her shower, he pulled a gun to her head.

“It’s time for me to get what’s mine.” He stroked his hand over her face. “So damn pretty, perfect, this face. So nice of John for lending me his wife, don't you think?” His eyes swooped over her.

“This body.” His knee jerked between her legs, forcing them to part.

“Your precious, perfect thighs.” Vomit burned in her throat, and hot lava gushed from her eyes, burning her cheeks in the process.

 

Wiggling against him in the desperate act of trying to shake him off was met with resistance as his weight pinned her to the wall.

 

“Momma, why are you on the floor? Did you fall?” the sweetest voice echoed from the bottom of the staircase. Her eyes raised as quickly as she could, to catch her daughter's concerned ones. This was wrong; she wasn’t supposed to witness that, a child should never have to fear for his mother in such a young age.

 

“Oh no, sweetie” placing her palm to the wall, she managed to stand up, almost immediately. “I was just trying to find my earing and-” her eyes roamed around the room, unintentionally finding his angry ones, “-and Dr. Giovannie help me out, that’s all.”

Marlena felt Fernando’s eyes all over her body as she walked over to Belle to take her by the hand. He came up behind her, and all the little hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She stiffened as his hand went to the small of her back.

 

Before the kids arrived tonight, she slipped on what he chose for her. A little black skirt she bought last year for her birthday and a white fitted blouse.

She never got to wear the skirt because by the time she got home, she realized it was too short so it just hung in her closet, sad and unused. Paired with a set of sexy black heels and a little bit of makeup, she looked beautiful as ever.

 

Fernando leaned closer, brushing her hair away from her ear. His breath was warm, and she had to fight the shiver that was shooting down her neck.

“Let’s go to the bedroom. Now” whispering. He leaned back and looked into her eyes, checking for her compliance.

 

Right now, right there, the full strength of his gaze was too intense. She looked away, focusing on Brady who descended down the staircase. Fernando watched them with curiosity, a little wrinkle between his brows and a frown on his lips.

“The children need to be bathed…” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him nodded.

“I’ll be waiting. Don’t worry; I have no place to go.” He pressed a kiss that made her shiver against her shoulder and stepped back.

 

She really wished he wouldn’t do that! She really wished he wouldn’t touch her, especially in front of the children.

 

“Good night, Belle. Sweet dreams,” Fernando said.

“Good night,” Belle chirped cheerfully. “Sweet dreams!”

“Good night, Brady,” Fernando nodded at Brady. Brady stared at him for a long moment before nodding back.

“Good night.”

Leading Belle by the hand, they walked past Fernando and began to climb up the stairs. Suddenly Belle twisted in her hand and called out, “Oh, I forgot! Don’t’ let the bedbugs bite!” Fernando laughed.

 

The children closed their little eyes as soon as they tucked underneath their blankets and they were asleep within seconds. She supposed all the excitement of the day wore them out.

Too bad she was not just as tired. She felt wide awake and wired like she has been caffeinated.

 

Still, she laid beside Belle in the bed for a long time. Reluctant to make her way to Fernando. Reluctant to be alone with him again. She stared at the ceiling, reliving her day. It was all so weird it hardly felt real. Did all of that really happen, or was she going crazy?

Maybe this was all some kind of nightmare, and she would wake up in bed beside John.

Finally, after she’d been in bed with Belle for at least an hour she couldn't lie still no more, she pressed one last kiss to her forehead, slid out of her bed and picked her heels off the floor. Barefoot, she padded quietly down the carpeted hallway, hoping Fernando was not waiting for her behind that bedroom door.

 

If she was lucky, she’d taken so long he grew bored or tired. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and turned the handle. The door swung open easily, and she stepped inside. Fernando was sitting on the edge of the massive bed that dominated the room, bent over her phone. His head popped up as she stepped inside.

“Close the door.”

God, she really didn’t want to be alone with him again. Fernando lowered her phone to his lap and repeated, “Close the door, Principessa.” she pushed back at the door in frustration, and it slammed shut a little louder than she intended. She winced at the sound, and Fernando’s icy eyes narrowed.

 

He spread his legs a little. “Come here.”

Her body froze, and she just couldn’t bring herself to take that first step forward, there was something in his voice that scared her, that made her want to fight him.

“I thought we were going to talk.”

“Come here, Principessa,” Fernando demanded again. There was that tone again. A string inside her tightened.

She shook her head.

 

She couldn’t...

 

“Marlena,” he growled impatiently. Her fingers relaxed, and she dropped her heels to the floor. “I’m getting tired of repeating myself.”

She shook her head again.

“Don’t make me come get you.”

 

Fuck. If she ran would he chase her down?

Yes.

Of course he would — what a childish thought.

 

He raised from the bed in one smooth movement and her fight or flight instincts kicked in. Before she even realized what she was doing, she was spinning around, pulling open the door. He was on top of her before she got across the threshold. There just wasn’t enough space between them to give her a good head start. Grabbing her by the hips, he yanked her back and slammed the door.

There was a moment where her feet left the floor when she was roughly pressed up against the door, her cheek pushed against the wood. He growled into her ear as he ground his hips into her ass.

 

Oh no.

 

She could feel his cock rubbing against her.

“That wasn’t a very smart decision,” he sighed, and she felt his teeth nipping at the back of her neck.

“Let go of me, please” she whined and stiffened.

That nip at her neck sent a jolt of anger straight to her core. He was an awful, despicable person, despite how kind he has been with the children, and she was afraid this was all some sick twisted game to him. They were only safe there until he got bored with them or some new clue came along.

“Please, what?” he asked, his breath hot against the wet spot he left on her neck.

“Please, let us go.” He ground his hips hard into her ass and said coldly, “No.”

“Why?” she cried out in despair. His hips let up, and he pulled away, and she felt this wild hope that he was going to let her go. But then he grabbed her by the hips and spun her around to face him. He pushed her back, and the palms of her hands slapped against the door.

 

He leaned forward, caging her in with his arms. Head bending down, his forehead nearly touched her forehead as he stared into her eyes and said, “Because I don’t want to. And because I can use some entertainment, aside from my books.”

 

Staring into his eyes was like staring into the abyss. There was a power in them that was sucking out her fight.

Her will. It was becoming harder and harder to remain strong, but she had to keep on fighting him.

“You can’t do this,” she said weakly, protesting in a way. His lips curved into a smug smile.

“I can.” That smugness immediately made her rage with pent-up anger.

She needed the anger, desperately.

She needed the fire of rage to protect her family. “What gives you the right?”

His eyes dropped to her lips. “I have a deal with your husband. Yes, I can't fuck you, but everything else is fair game. I can do anything I want.” As if to prove his point, his lips pressed against her lips and he kissed her hard and deep as if he was trying to devour her mouth. His lips leaned over her lips. His tongue pressed, insistent, seeking entrance.

 

NO!

NEVER!

 

Marlena twisted out of his grasp so fast that she landed on her knees and elbowed him in the nuts. He gasped out, doubling over, and landed on his hands.

“Fuck!”

She sprinted forward and stood, turning around to face him. He lunged at her before she could register he was on his feet. He grabbed her throat, ran back with her while groaning in anger, and slammed her against the wall.

“Ah!” She gasped on impact, closing and opening her eyes, gripping his wrist with both hands. He laughed in her face.

“I'm not playing nice.”

 

She choked in his grasp, her head getting dizzy, then she whacked the inside of his elbow to buckle his arm.

“Neither am I.” She drew back and punched him in the face, causing his nose to burst open. He wasn’t bothered. He tried to grab her again but she fought him off, cross-whacking his hands away, but he kept coming at her. She’d nowhere to go, so she booted him in the stomach with lower body force.

He bent over, winded, and she tried to dash out of the bedroom, but he fished the back of her golden hair. “Ohh!” She spun around and pounded at his chest, forcing him to free her. She couldn’t let him near her. When he was a few feet away, forced back by her attack, she lifted up one foot to kick him in the gut with her other. He caught her ankle and yanked her forward.

“Awh!” She grimaced as her back slammed against the hard floor. She didn’t let her pain take over her process. She bolted upright and snatched for his hand on her ankle but right then, he was quicker than she was. She was not on par tonight. He caught her wrist, still gripping her ankle in his other hand, and managed to flip her over, so her face was sliding against the cold floor.

 

“That's more like it,” he said in her ear with humor. He battled to get both her arms behind her back and held them there in one of his hands. He then grabbed a fist-full of her golden hair, hauled her to her feet like that, and turned her around, so she was facing him. She hissed against the discomfort, struggling to free at least one of her hands from his but her efforts were useless. He bent at the knees, nearly putting them eye to eye. She had no choice but to stand there against him. If she fought while in this position and he pushed her arms up her back, they'll snap.

 

“You're fast. I forgot” He tugged on her hair to make her look at him, bending her neck back. His chest was hard against her breasts, crushing her to him. She panted angrily, a little out of sorts. If only she had convinced John not to send her home when they were at Lugano, things would have looked different. Through heavy eyes, he glanced between her eyes and her mouth. Then smirked like he'd won. “Tell me, Marlena, why shouldn't I do that? Why shouldn't I enjoy what I can while I'm here?”

He was enjoying this. She just now realized.

 

Was this what he wanted? To fight her? She glared at him with wrath.

 

Anger flooded her eyes, blurring her vision and she whimpered. All of this was just too fucked up, and she’d completely lost all hope of him changing his mind and deciding to let them go. He truly believed he was untouchable.

Fernando sighed and pulled her close, cradling her in his arms. She was weak; he held her so tight. She buried her face into his chest and groaned into his ‘John’ shirt; it even smelled like him.

 

“Are you going to tell me what you and John were talking about?”

 

Shit. She shivered in his arms, and it was hard to miss.

 

“you’re scared, I know.”

“John will get here-”

He smothered her scream just as his hand slapped over her mouth.

“Not one word,” he instructed hoarsely. She could see the fanatic gleam in his eyes.

“The only way you are going to make me angry is if you mention this prick's name.”

Her fingernails dug into his hands as she tried to pry him loose from her blouse. When that failed, her frantic fists landed repeatedly on to his chest. He managed to suck in a breath, though to her ears, it probably sounded like an animalistic growl.  

“Let me go, you bastard! Let go!” She yelled between frantic sobs and screamed.

"What did he say, Marlena?"

She twisted and turned in his grasp, weakening his hold on her blouse.  Thoroughly irritated, his angry eyes met hers. She’d stood completely still, eyeing him with a mixture of horror and shock. She didn’t blink, didn’t speak, didn’t breathe, she merely stared.  

He stared back.  

He spun her around and pinned her arms to her sides.

“What did he say? Huh? What did John say? Tell me” Anger raced through him as he tightened his arms around her, forcing the air from her lungs.

 

“Fuck you” The words slipped past her lips in a rush of expelled air. The words seemed to ride on a wave of despair and a flow of raw anger. She’d known this strange moment would come. If she’d talk, he would no longer follow John’s rules.

She’d be his pray again.

 

She struggled for air, panting like a dog, and the idea mildly amused him.  

“Fuck!” he exclaimed as her head collided soundly with his nose. He released her on instinct, his fingers pressed to either side of his nose. She moved quickly, a flutter of blonde hair flying toward the bedroom door. He growled deep in his chest. Lunging toward her, he snagged a fistful of her blouse, but as he pulled back, she simply spilled out of the fabric.

 

Her scent assaulted his senses. As her hands reached the bedroom door, finding it miraculously locked, his fingers speared into her hair and made a fist. He pulled back sharply, causing her to tumble backward onto the floor. No longer taking her urgency for granted and no longer amused by her swinging limbs, he sat roughly on top of her. Trying to push him off of her, only made her skirt to raise up her hips.

 

“No!” she screamed desperately, knees once again seeking his groin, nails fixated on digging into his face. “You like to fight, don’t you?” He smiled. “I like to fight, too.” With more effort than he would have thought necessary, he wrapped his legs around hers and trapped her wrists above her head with his left hand.

 

“Fuck you,” she panted again, chest rising defiantly. Her entire body was tense beneath him; her muscles fought, unwilling to give up, but that burst of energy had cost her. Her eyes were wild, crazy, but she was weakening. He held her easily now. Slowly, the realization of her warm, trembling body pressed so intimately against him flooded his senses, intoxicating him.

“He had lost him. Right? Stefano vanished. Did he?”

The fury in her eyes vibrated with silence, staring deep into his. Her breath quickened. He noticed the rise and fall of her breast, waiting to hear her words, although she knew there was no meaning to them.

“Yes, he did,” he said, it was not even a question.

“I know you’re afraid now. I can smell it...your fear...”

Her delicate center was pressed against his belly, with only the soft fabric of his shirt separating him from her. Her full and decidedly warm breasts heaved under his chest. Just beneath them, he felt the hammering of her heart.

 

In her struggles, her heated skin moved against him with greater friction. It was almost more than he could stand without doing anything.

Almost.

Holding her wrists in his left hand, he reared up, using his knife to tear the fine material of her bra, closing his hands over her right breast with his palm, then her left with the same hand. Instantly, choked sobs erupted from her throat.  

“Do you like that?” Fernando barked. Again he squeezed her breasts, and again, and again, and again until her entire body let go, until he felt every muscle beneath him slide loose, and she simply wept into the crook of her arm.

 

“Please. Please stop,” she croaked, “Please...you're hurting me..please..” She was warm, undone, and afraid beneath him. Her lips moved quickly, silently, spilling words not meant for him to hear.

​

 

15 years ago.

 

John gritted his teeth, watching the tied Italian man in front of him, he was finally there. “You're going to tell me everything. Starting from where is Neomi? And I want to know your every buyer, every organization” John said in a perfect fury.

“What the hell is your name?” Fernando’s face throbbed with the slap he received, but he bore it in silence, fists clenched at his sides.

“Names, contacts, her location” John continued.

 

Fernando was free; he reminded himself. Raising his calm and steady eyes to meet John’s frenzied ones. John’s eyes remained venomous, but now confusion swirled behind the rage.

“Do you have a wife, girlfriend?” Fernando nearly smiled. Another slap and Fernando forced himself to look away, but not toward the ground, never that.

“It's up to you how it goes, Fernando” John's strain voice cut through the silence.

“Because you know what I'm going to do next. I'm going to find her, whoever she is, I'm going to find her, and I'm going to hurt her.”

There was noise behind him; he wanted to look but would not give John the satisfaction of piqued his curiosity. It didn’t matter; the mystery was soon revealed — a mirror. John placed a mirror directly in front of him. In it, he saw his presence waiver. This was too much; he couldn't possibly watch this. And yet, he refused to stare at the floor.

“You were at the apprehended carried details of a location. Something code name 'The BlackBird,' "John said.

“I'm going to make her bleed and cry and call out your name. And you're not going to be able to do shit. You know why?.” the Italian hissed.

 

John strained against every impulse rushing through his body. He willed himself to remain still; he could handle this. He could handle anything. John kneeled in front of him, and Fernando smiled.

“What is “The BlackBird”?

“Because you're going to be this close to dead ” For the first time in a long time, Fernando growled. Lifting his gun, John aimed to his head prepared to strike, and there was not a thing to be done.

“And where is she?”

“And then I'm going to kill you, right in front of her”

 

It was listening to this or death. Fernando dug deep into the part of him determined to stay free. He took a deep breath and held it as he was staring at him with hollow eyes.

“I’m gonna ask you one more time.”

“What’s your name?” Fernando repeated, refusing to make the slightest sound.

“What’s “The Blackbird”?”

“Who are you?” Fernando asked

“And where is Neomi?”

“You have no idea what is going on, do you? You saw what I did to your little friends, right? Well, that was nothing, that was... fun. That's fun.” Fernando smiled at him. John looked at the ground.

 

“what is “The BlackBird”?” His strength meant nothing against Fernando. As he lunged toward him, John planted his foot firmly into his stomach and tossed him over his head and onto the ground. His vision blurred and his breath left him. John stood quickly, his foot collided repeatedly with Fernando’s ribs, genitals, and chest. Fernando rolled onto his side groping for air and John’s foot. Neither aim was achieved.

A young soldier entered the room, his mission was clear, and this was not a part of it.

“Soldier Black! Stop it. John, he’s not worth it”

 

There was a sinister chuckle, something between a growl and a hyena. Lifting his head, the blood dripped from his smile, leaving red dots on the floor. “What I'm selling and where she is, is the last thing you should be concerned about. John Black.”

The present.
 

Fernando swallowed thickly, old memories resurfacing. He blinked, his head throbbed, and he flinched, pressing his temples. A reflex, usually quick and easily done after all these years. But he felt it this time, as her fear and his anger battled as much as mingled, congesting the air and filling the room. It seemed to create a new person, breathing along with them, and watching them, invading the moment.

 

His anger intensified. He stared down at the woman’s beautiful breasts; they were deeply pink where he had struck her, but it wouldn’t leave a lasting mark. Carefully, he released her wrists. His thumb unconsciously sought to smooth the red mark of his grip. He frowned down at her.  

He hoped she was out of surprises.

 

The moment she felt his grip loosen from around her wrists, she crossed her palms over her breasts. At first, he thought she was attempting modesty, but her kneading fingers suggested she was more concerned with relieving the pain. She kept her eyes closed too, unwilling to acknowledge him straddling her thighs.

Most people didn’t want to see the bad thing coming.

 

The moment was perhaps unbearably worse because she saw something in his eyes. He had recognized the look of curiosity in her eyes. Well, she’d have to get over it—he wasn't telling her shit.

"You got to stop it..."

“I spent so much time molding you,” he said with a grunt, she gasped a breath and held, as his hand clenched her jaw.

“That bastard corrupted you.” A whimper escaped her tight lips. “You’re hurting me.”

“Isn’t that how you like it?”

 

Her captive slowly removed his weight and stood above her, pushing the beautifully rounded and supple curve of her bottom with the tip of his boot. “Get up.” His tone was commanding. It brooked no argument or misunderstanding. Confused, her body recoiled at the sound of his voice, but she refused to move.  

“Get up Marlena, or I’ll have to do it for you. Trust me; you don’t want that.” Her will to resist stronger than ever, yet she removed her right hand from her breast and attempted to push herself up. Slowly, she pushed her weight onto her arm, but her struggle was obvious as her arm shook under the pain from her wrist causing her to collapse.  “Good girl, you can do it…get up and take off your clothes, but put your heels back on,” he commanded.

 

Marlena didn’t budge.

Despite her disgust with him, it was fear who stopped her the most. She needed to defy him. And yet, there was a great chance that he preferred her defiance over her submission. Maybe her resistance was the source of his greatest pleasure.

“You can take it off, or I can rip it off,” he said. “Better yet, I can just leave and go visit the children’s bedroom” she trembled with fear, never letting her angry stare leave him as she hesitantly motioned to unbutton her blouse.

"You stay the hell away from my children!"

"We had a deal. You don't want to take a shower, fine, stay dirty, but this was your last chance to get one"

"Fuck you!"

“You don’t have to make it so fucking hard on yourself, you know?” he said with a smirk. He was not trying to comfort her; he was mocking the inevitability of her submission. Fernando didn’t give her space to undress. Instead, he stayed close, hovering over her, one arm pressed against the door behind her, grazing her body with his as she stripped.

 

Slowly, she pulled off the remainings of her bra like someone undressing in confinement, trying not to impose on Fernando’s space even though it was him who was imposing on her. Finally, she stood naked, her back against the cold door, only wearing a pair of black pumps. The cool air of the room stroked her skin, making her feel exposed and alone.

 

Ironically, he was the only warmth, and her body craved heat.

Not his heat.

“Touch yourself,” he said, taking out the small gun from his back pocket, just as he grabbed her fingers and slid them between his full lips. It was oddly soft. And it was almost crueler than being rough because he was playing with her head. She slid her wet fingers onto her clit and rolled soft circles, closing her eyes and tilting her head to the side, pressing her cheek to the cold wall.

 

“No, don’t close your eyes. Look at me, Marlena” he said. But she didn’t want to; she didn’t want to be reminded of what she was doing, how she was surrendering her body to such a heartless person. She was trying to let her mind go somewhere else, and he won’t let her.

“Do it.” she opened her eyes, and he was right there staring back, challenging her, overwhelming her. They were an olive green with a brown hue, the irises ringed with a darker brown that made them pop, framed by long, dark lashes. His glare, it was like he wanted to ruin her just by looking at her, but the longer she looked, the more she realized there was something else.

It was pain. Being a psychiatrist has trained her eyes to catch those glimpse of sorrow in one’s eyes. Maybe even vulnerability. It was in there; she just had to reach for it. If she could access that part of him, maybe she could work her way out of that situation.

 

She touched herself as she stared into his eyes, biting her lip, gyrating her hips against her hand. Her nerves course with anxiety. Looking into someone’s eyes while touching yourself should be intimate, safe, but this was an invasion. It was another way to break her down. She wanted to end the eye contact; she wanted to close her eyes, fall asleep, waking up in John’s arms.

He wanted to torture her. Getting Fernando to talk may be the key to getting some power back. Stubborn rebellion only fueled his cruelty.

 

“What are you thinking?” he asked. She said her honest answer. “That I want to close my eyes.” He didn’t say no, he didn’t flinch, but his eyes, the eyes she had so quickly tried to study, they became hungrier.

If that was even possible.

 

“Stop. Lay down,” he said.

She glared at him. “Lay. Down….Quietly” She hesitated, then complied. “Let’s be clear,” he said as he held her wrists. “If I want to fuck you, I’ll fuck you; John would never know. If I want your beautiful lips around my cock, you’ll suck my cock. And if I want you to shut up and go to sleep, you’ll do that too.” But that was not in the cards, and they both knew it.

 

Her wrists were close enough to press her hands together as if she was in prayer.

And that mouth.

That pretty pink mouth with the tongue that darted out and wet her lips. Yeah, he could do a lot with that mouth. She was his to do what he wanted with, and it was hard to know where to start. With a huff, she turned her head.

He ran a finger along her arm.

Goosebumps raised.

 

“I can’t live like this. Don’t make me.” Clenching her hands to keep from digging flesh, she chewed on her lip instead. “Fernando. If you don’t let me go, you’ll be on the run for the rest of your life. That isn’t a life.” Her fists clenched, as much as they could, anyway. He wanted her to talk, so he urged her. “You gonna behave? Maybe if you fuck me good, I’ll let you go.”

She made a hissing sound.

“Never.”

“Yeah.” his smile dawned slow. “Maybe you’d rather stay with me.” She jerked her head around. She sucked in another breath. Like she was so surprised this was actually happening. As if she’d thought he was somebody different. Somebody better. John.

“I’m going to make you hurt, Mi Amore.”

People like her wanted to see the best in people like him, and she’ll probably want to think the best as time went on, but it was important that she didn’t think the best of him or hope for him to be something different.

 

“Don’t.” She twisted her hands, but that only made his fingers dig into her wrists.

“Please, please, please! Oh God—” his fingers pinched her nipples, nails scratching, digging into her breasts, and she screamed his name. For the first time ever, he made her cry.

More than cry. She bawled, begged, sobbed under each brutal squeeze.

“Shhhh.” He slid down a bit, bringing him eye level with her heaving chest.

“Marlena…” His whisper carried a strangled plea, and she wondered what the hell he had to plead for.

 

He wasn’t the one on the receiving end of that assault.

“Why do I hurt you?” He wedged her thighs apart, then pulled back with a frown. “I want you begging, screaming. You know how hard it gets me.” Fingers spreading the lips of her mound, he buried his face there and dragged his tongue over her clit. She groaned, repulsed by the slick heat of his mouth.

He kissed up her stomach, leaving a wet path to her breasts, and she stiffened. He licked the peaks, first the left then the right, and when he moved away, crimson stained his lips.

Her blood.

“This hurts me as much as you.” The muscles in his left arm tensed,

“Stop!” Fire danced across her flesh, and she howled at the excruciating sting of her bruises. She resisted glancing down, scared to see the blood smearing her skin, the ugly red marks he must have left behind.

His frustrated gaze clashed with hers, and she knew she was in deep shit. “Fernando,” She whispered. “Please…”

 

“I have a surprise for you.”

“I don’t want your surprises. I want you to let me go.” Thick brows furrowed over-intense eyes filled with determination.

“That’s not gonna happen, Principessa.” She turned her back to him, thinking how the eyes of someone so rotten to the soul shouldn’t hold so much power.

She had no way out.  

Not fighting him seemed wrong.

“Turn over.”

Marlena gave a swift shake of her head. In two milliseconds, he grabbed her arms as she dug her heels to the floor, pulling against his strength. But, in the end, he held her against the bed.

“This is happening, Marlena. He had his chance, he failed. Now turn the fuck over and hold still, or I’ll beat the fight out of you, I swear to god I will.”

She went limp under the threat. Her breasts flamed with the memory of his strikes. She turned over on the mattress, gripped the bedding, and waited. Tears gathered in her hazel orbs.

No warning.

 

He pushed a needle in her ass cheek, and she shrieked from the scorching burn of metal forcing entry into her flesh.

He splayed one hand on her back, holding her in place while the syringe stilled in her skin. “Don’t move.”

“No... What are you doing?”

“In a few minutes, you won’t give a shit what I’m doing.” He burrowed his needle all the way in, intensifying the sting. Marlena let out a wail, terrified. “Please don’t do this!” Her voice trembled so badly, the words came out wobbled and unrecognizable.

 

Every spark of her being told her to flee, yet her body wouldn’t jump into motion.

“Fer-Fernando?” His name fell from her lips with uncertainty, a question that sounded far off.

 

A strange heat wave flushed her skin, and her pulse thumped at her throat. A flood of…something washed over her, making her head swim. She couldn’t explain or describe it, but her surroundings held new meaning. Fear evaporated, and things that were previously hidden, like the silver strands in the pattern of the comforter or the small flowers on the walls, grown in a burst of vibrancy.

Like a bud unfolding its petals in slow motion. She licked her lips and tasted the air.

God.

Nothing had ever fired up her taste buds so good. The pressure in her ass cheek subsided, but she remained sprawled on the bed, held captive by the details burgeoning around her.

He helped her stand, and the ground wobbled, the room warping in a blur…it was the most amazing feeling in the world.

He brushed her from behind, and she moaned at the velvety texture of his skin.

Silk covered her eyes, so fluid it could have been milk, and cast her into a pit of sinfully dark bliss.

 

“Fernando?” The name was wrong, and it rang through her ears, causing a hint of fear, but mostly a question, one she couldn’t formulate verbally. What had he done to her? Turning around, she stared at him with glazed eyes, he wasn't holding her anymore.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Just feel. He knew I'll find you. This is his doing.”

A whirl of air caressed her nakedness, and his breath feathered over her parted mouth. She inhaled his heady scent, like decadent chocolate, and darted her tongue out to lick the richness of his lips.

Mmm…lips.

She reached forward and thrust her tongue between them. A groan rumbled from his throat. He commanded her tongue, sucked her in so far she fell into the cavity of his mouth.

“It’s payback time, John."
His hands fell on her shoulders, two heavyweights she welcomed. She buckled to his demand, and her knees kissed the bedroom floor.