Sold to Moretti Mafia

Elena

Instead, I nod in agreement and slide the ring onto my ring finger. Of course, it fits perfectly. How does he do this? Did he have someone measure me from head to toe while I was sleeping? I wouldn’t be surprised, to be honest.

Trying not to look at the ring, I continue eating, pretending like I don’t find the ring beautiful. The last thing I want is for him to assume I like something he got me.

For a few minutes, neither one of us says anything. I want to ignore him just as much as the sparkling diamond decoration on my ring finger, but I’m not able to do either. His presence is impossible to ignore, and the diamond glitters with every tiny movement. It’s annoying, all of it.

“Why did you get me this ring? It’s not like anyone will see it.”

“I will see it,” he snaps. Then he continues in a slightly softer tone. “Besides, you won’t be locked in the bedroom forever. Just until I can be sure you won’t disobey me. How long that will take is purely up to you.”

“Of course…”

We eat the rest of the meal in silence. When I can’t take another bite, I place the fork next to my plate and lean back in my chair. My stomach is full, and I don’t think I could take another bite if I tried.Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Dessert?”

“No, I’m full.” The words have barely left my lips before Julian gets up from his chair. Grabbing me by my upper arm, he pulls me to my feet and starts guiding me out of the dining room.

Immediately, I’m alarmed. Why is he so eager to get me back to the bedroom? I thought he wanted to wait until after we were married. Maybe he changed his mind?

“Why are you shaking?” His words take me by surprise as we reach the stairs.

“I didn’t realize I was. Why are you in such a hurry to get me to bed? I thought…”

Julian snickers. “You thought I was an honorable man who was going to wait to have sex with you until after we were married?”

“Yes…” I can only hope…

“We’ll see.”

We’ll see? What is that supposed to mean?

By the time we reach the bedroom, I’m shaking even more. I’m completely alone with a man who is easily twice my size. There’s no one here who could help me even if they heard me scream. I’m completely helpless, at the mercy of this ruthless man who bought me for ten million dollars.

He locks the door behind us and lets go of my arm. Scurrying backward, I feel like I’m suffocating in his presence.

“Get ready for bed. I’m taking a shower.”

“A sh-shower?” I stutter, still shaking like a leaf and a little shocked. I was so sure he was going to rape me, but he’s…

“Yes, a shower. Care to join?” The mocking tone he gives me has me snapping out of the fearful fog around my head.

“No,” I blurt out, making him grin.

“That’s what I thought. Find some pajamas and get in the bed,” he orders before turning around and walking into the bathroom. As he disappears into the bathroom, I all but run into the closet. My heart is racing, and my hands shake as I grab a nightshirt and pair of sleep shorts.

Quickly, I peel my clothes off and put my clean pj’s on, waiting for him to appear in the closet. He’s a cruel monster, and I must always remain alert when he is in the room.

Tiptoeing out of the closet, I walk back to the king-size bed, my eyes catching on the door to the bathroom, which is cracked open. Steam billows into the bedroom, and temptation builds inside of me.

He’s seen you naked. Why not see him naked?

Walking over to the door, I peer through the crack and cover my mouth with a hand to stifle the gasp that tries to escape. Water cascades over his tanned, sculpted body, the muscles of his back ripple, but it’s not his nakedness that has me gasping.

It’s the hand wrapped around the steel rod between his legs, the furious, angry pumping that he’s doing with his hand. My cheeks burn, and my throat tightens as I watch him stroke himself. I’ve never seen a man touch himself, and I become mesmerized. Each stroke is anger-filled, and I can’t look away, my eyes roam over his thick thighs that are like tree trunks, his biceps bulge, and with his eyes closed, he looks almost angelic. Licking my lips, I feel a heat creep into my core.

This is wrong. He’s your captor.

As if he can feel me watching him, his eyes flutter open, and his dark blue orbs find mine instantly. The air in my lungs rushes out, and I stumble backward from the intensity in them. Shame fills me, and my face burns, watching as his lips tip up at the sides while he doesn’t even miss a beat and continues stroking himself.

Rushing from the door, I almost trip over my feet in my escape to get away. Jumping onto the bed, I climb under the covers and press a hand to my chest, trying to get my heart to stop beating out of my chest.

After a while, my breathing returns to normal at about that same time that the water in the shower turns off. Seconds turn into minutes, and I hold my breath while waiting.

Heavy footfalls approach the bed, and then the room falls into darkness. My body is strung tight with anxiety. The blankets are pulled back, and the weight of his body presses into the mattress. I feel like prey hiding in the woods, hoping I won’t be discovered.

I don’t even get a chance to prepare for his touch, he slings an arm around my waist and tugs my back to his chest, engulfing me in his warmth. Heat zings through me when our skin touches.

“In case you were wondering, I was thinking about you the entire time. Thinking about your tight pussy, the way you’ll pulse around me and beg me for more on our wedding night. I can’t wait to deflower you.” His mouth is at my ear, and I involuntarily shiver at his confession.

He lets out a small chuckle and then settles behind me. I don’t say anything and try not to think about his words, but the truth is, I can’t get the image out of my mind, and that makes me hate him all the more. He’s making me crave something, making me need him, and I’ll do anything to prove that I don’t need or want him.