"Are you wet enough?" He questions with hooded eyes.
I nod curtly. "Only the sound of your voice and my pussy jumps in excitement."
"Good. Turn around." He orders as both hands grip my waist, flipping me around before I can argue. "Sit on it and go...
Ups! Ten obraz nie jest zgodny z naszymi wytycznymi. Aby kontynuować, spróbuj go usunąć lub użyć innego.
A fist drives into my gut and knocks me out. I choke and cough, my hand clutching tightly onto the part of me that seems completely ruptured.
I fall face down and sob, there's not a part of me that is whole; at least not anymore and my father made certain of it.
"Enough with your whining!" Father's voice thunders as he forces me on my knees. "Tell me exactly what it is you saw that day," he orders and I shake my head no.
"I don't remember anything." I lie; but I do it to protect myself.
"Maybe she's telling the truth. we've broken her in unimaginable ways, yet, she still stands by her word," my father's minion whispers to him but I pay very close attention and I hear him.
"Have we? There's still one thing that is yet to be done to her." Father sneers and the man's eyes widen.
"She's a kid! She'll not survive it; isn't she just ten years old?"
"I don't care if she dies. Ready the chair, no questions asked." Father orders as he stands by the side with Annabella.
I know what the chair is. I scream, I fight, I do everything I can to convince my father that I'm utterly unaware of what he's asking but he doesn't buy into it.
He nods to his minion and the man carries me and straps me in the chair. "No. . . please!"
"No!"
"No!"
"Please, don't let him do it," I cry out.
I feel a certain kind of warmth when my eyes flutter open. My front is pressed against something hard; something hard that seems comfortable. Something with a heartbeat?
My body stiffens when the dangerously dark tattoos come into sight. The tattoo I first take note of is that which seems like an illusion of a snake digging its fangs into the skin of his shoulder.
His shoulder?
Who?
My brain finally snaps out of its break time and I gulp, "Matteo?" My breath is erratic. My mind going ballistic and I almost slump when his hum sends some sort of vibration through my bones.
"I'll do better." Matteo says and I'm even more confused.
"What?" I ask.
He doesn't let go of me, he tightens his grip around my waist and pushes me into him still holding firmly, causing my breath to hitch.
The way he's holding onto me seems more like a cry for help. Like he's in desperate need of someone who can see him. Someone who truly sees him.
"I've been a terrible human being and husband and I truly regret my actions," he whispers breathily. "I'll become better."
