Chapter 5 Alessia

Alessia

I ache my back, pressing my nipple against his mouth. He takes it eagerly, sucking hard, grazing it with his teeth, it sends a sharp jolt of pleasure through me.

I moan softly as my fingers tangle in his hair, and I pull him closer; I need more.

His lips slowly release my breast, trailing down my body, leaving a burning path of kisses and licks until he reaches my navel.

Then, I feel it. Cool yogurt drizzling over my skin. I gasp as his warm tongue follows the sticky trail, licking, teasing, making me shiver. He moves lower until his lips brush against my most sensitive spot.

My legs tremble, and my body arches instinctively to give him more access. His lips hover at my entrance, teasing, playing, while electric pleasure shoots through me.

My hips roll in response, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I mutter incoherent pleas.

He sucks. He bites. Just enough to make me shudder.

"For fuck's sake..." I whisper, my body burning with need. No man has ever made me feel so wanted.

I shouldn't want this. Not with him. This sexy stranger has haunted my thoughts since that night.

He wants me to know him. But I don't want to. I just want the pleasure he's giving me.

I grind my hips, matching the rhythm of his tongue as he devours me. Just as I think I might explode, he pulls away, his lips capturing mine in a deep kiss. The taste of me stays on his tongue, intoxicating, wicked.

One of his hands cups my breast, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure, making me arch into his touch.

"I want to feel you inside me," I plead, my body trembling beneath him.

He smirks against my lips. "Not so fast, my lady," he murmurs. "I want you to beg for it. Tell me you'll take no other cock but mine."

I know I should say no. But I don't. The word tumbles from my lips before I can stop it.

"Please."

He groans, his cock twitching against my skin as I reach for him; my hand trails down his chest until I wrap my fingers around his hardness.

I guide him to me, as I rub him against my clit, teasing us both. He's driving me wild.

"Will you take another man?" His voice is rough, his breath uneven as he pulls back just enough to meet my eyes.

I stare into him, my blue eyes locking with onyx unreadable eyes. I feel myself falling into him, drowning.

"No," I whisper. "No one but you."

That's all he needs. In a swift motion, he flips me onto my hands and knees, gripping my waist as he thrusts inside me. A scream of pure pleasure rips from my throat.

But before I can fully surrender to the ecstasy, a sudden shock of cold water splashes over my face.

I jolt awake, gasping. My heart pounds as reality sets in.

It was a dream.

A fucking wet dream about him. Again.

My breath is still shaky as I blink through the water dripping down my face. Then, I look up-right into the furious glare of my stepmother.

I sit up quickly, wiping my face, my body still thrumming with leftover arousal.

I hate her. With every fiber of my being.

She knows I'm a threat. She has failed to give my father a child of her own.

"You just have to make your stupid existence known, don't you?" Her voice drips with venom as she steps closer, her eyes are burning with fury.

"What the hell were you thinking, running off like that? Do you realize you've made everyone in the villa know what a slut you are? Opening your legs to every stranger?"

My heart pounds as she advances on me.

"Mom, I can explain. I didn't-"

"Didn't what?" she sneers, cutting me off. "Do you think your fiancé will still want you once he realizes you're not pure? That you've spread your legs for every man that crosses your path?"

The accusation isn't new. It's the same thing she throws at me whenever I feel suffocated and leave the house for a little freedom. She's always been wrong.

Until now.

Now, there's nothing I can say.

She scoffs as her nails dig into my jaw and grip it tightly, forcing me to look at her. I flinch at the harsh touch.

"You're so dumb that even after what happened with Marcos, you still haven't learned your lesson? Do you have to whore yourself out to other men too?"

Her words hit like a slap, but I didn't give her the satisfaction.

"You should be grateful your father arranged your marriage to Vincenzo. Do you honestly think any man would willingly take you as a wife?"

I lower my gaze, biting the inside of my cheek to stop myself from speaking. I know how this ends if I talk back.

"You spread your legs for men outside this house, and even that's not enough-you get fucked in your dreams too? How despicable can you get?"

This is how it's been ever since I returned from that night.

"You're nothing but a filthy slut." She yanks my face up again, forcing me to meet her cold gaze. The sheer disgust in her eyes makes my stomach twist with shame.

"If you cause your father any more trouble, I swear I'll have men deal with you in ways that will make you wish you were never born a Rossi."

I barely have time to process the threat before she grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks.

I wince as I could feel Pain across my scalp.

I know I should fight back. I know I should scream.

But I don't.

Because in this house, resistance only makes things worse.

"Tomorrow is your wedding day," she says coldly. "I know Vincenzo will find out you're not pure. And you know what that means for your father. He promised you were untouched."

My heart slams against my chest. My worst fear is finally coming to light.

"I'm sure he'll throw you to his men," she continued, "you could feel the cruelty in her voice. "Let them take their turns with you while he watches."

My eyes sting with a sharp pain, but the tears refuse to fall.

"You will go there and survive on your own," she hisses, tugging my hair harder and forcing my head back. "And don't you dare come back here causing your father any more trouble? Do you understand me?"

"Yes," I whisper, nodding quickly, anything to make her let go of my hair because my scalp burns from the force of her grip.

She finally releases me, shaking off the strands of my hair that cling to her fingers as if I disgust her.

She steps back toward the door, she pauses for a second to glare at me, her hatred searing through me like fire. I don't move. I don't even breathe. I know better than to provoke her.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she leaves.

The moment the door closes, my knees buckle. I grip the wall, gasping, my lungs so tight I can't draw in air.

I reach out for something to keep me grounded. But when I look around...

I have no one.

A single thought pushes through the suffocating pain.

I wish my mother was alive.

That's when the dam finally breaks. A heart-wrenching sob rips from my throat, shaking my entire body.

My life sucks.