CRAVED

THREE

{unedited}

Geneva sat on the long dining table that could seat more than ten. She didn't bother to count the dinning chairs pushed in, kept her gaze on the crockery set for two before her.

It was only the both of them. Marcelo and her. Seated at the center of the table with him directly in front of her, she refused to meet his gaze. Felt it on her and knew without a doubt he had no problem keeping his gaze on her hover long he pleased.

Her hand rest on top of her stitched and bandaged wound inflected by his knife.

Marcelo stabbing her was something she hadn't foreseen nor would have.

The knowledge that he could and was capable of doing so, to her for the mater, made her question why she felt the way she did.

Hurt? Bothered? In between? Both?

Geneva hardened her heart. She didn't think he'd stab her. He had locked eyes with her while doing so.

Did she care because he had buried his huge dick inside her? Moaned and screamed, unabashedly let him know how crazy he was driving her.

She had felt the pain brought about by his stretch, tried to push back from the feeling of having a man so huge fit and full her womanhood like a glove, like they were meant to fit together, regardless how big he was.

Her core didn't stop coating his dick with her juices . She had no control over her body , she was sure she must have drooled at one point . Nothing but what he was giving made sense and her body welcomed it all as though starved.

Marcelo had been a kind of gentle. She had felt him hold himself back. Even when his thick ropes of cum coated her walls and she had somehow caught sight of his wet dick.

He'd been semi hard. Like he could go again at that very moment if she dared insinuated she wanted more.

And as she sat looking at the empty plate before her, her core tightened on its own accord because of the memory.

"Why am I Here Marcelo?"

Her eyes stayed on her stained tune top. The white in contrast with the blood that had spread out. Her blood.

Geneva had dropped to the cold floor and looked up at him as he stood over her. Marcelo had personally tended to her wound with ease of one accustomed tending to stabs.

"You're not going to die amor. Neither will you lose consciousness. Not yet anyway."

He crouched and lifted her in his arms. She stopped herself from fighting him off immediately she felt pain shoot from her wound when she lifted both her arms in attempt to push him off.

"Keep the pressure on it Geneva. You're loosing blood."

Her hand had already returned to the spot and she whimpered when he stood up and begun to move. Tears in her eyes.

Marcelo's actions had mirrored that of a professional health worker when he tended to her. Gave her painkillers and made a joke about how very much alive she was.

She had wanted to ask him to take her to a hospital, worried about infection and her internal organs.

"Nothing bad is going to happen to you amor."

Marcelo had assured and Geneva shut him as she closed her eyes. Prayed to God He'd be the one in charge of her healing.

"What do you want from me?"

Geneva asked again.

Money wasn't it.

He was far from poor. Walked in the dough most definitely. The small parts of the huge mansion she had seen spoke volumes. Vast land and space, unapproachable men taking guard at different points. One look at the security level rendered her escape plan useless. She didn't even have to try.