“Will, please,” I beg. I’m not even sure what I’m begging for — him to let me talk, or let me have my orgasm, or for him to fuck me?
“I said. No. Talking.” He wraps one hand around my throat and squeezes, not hard enough to scare me, but enough to reduce my air supply to the bare minimum. Will keeps thrusting into me with his fingers, bringing me close to breaking point. I pant against his chokehold, taking tiny sips of air as my head begins to spin, my hips mimicking his movements as my body cries for release.
“Reason two,” he continues, anger rolling off him in waves. “Your father finally decided to make you marry that fucking pedophile who’s been following you around since you were a kid.”
His eyes tell me he already knows the answer. He swallows with difficulty, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. His fingers loosen around my throat, his other hand gone from between my thighs. “You’re my girl,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. When he looks back at me, his hazel eyes are shining. “I’m not letting him do this to us, Aves.”
I think about the embryos Enzo told me about. How, if I don’t follow my father’s plans, I have absolutely no doubt my family will continue in my absence. They’ll use my own unborn children as ammunition against me, against the boy I love. And it’s not just that. I fear what my father will do to Will if he sees him as a threat to his grand plans.
My father has had people killed for less. Much, much less. I’ve loved Will since I was seventeen years old. And the last thing I want to do is be the reason he ends up dead in a hit-and-run, or from a mysterious overdose, or just plain disappears, never to be seen again.
My cousin Ty’s girlfriend disappeared three years ago, after he got careless and she got knocked up. They found her in Mexico, in a poppy field. Or, they found pieces of her, buried amongst the flower beds. My cousin was never the same after that. He never suspected his own family, but I did. I know what the Capulets are capable of doing in the name of blood.
“I have to,” I whimper. “I’m sorry.”
“You will be,” Will snaps. “Take your dress off.”
I unzip my dress and push it down over my hips, letting it pool on the floor like a dark puddle around my feet. I’m completely naked now, my nipples so hard they ache, my body desperately craving to be filled.
Will dips his head, pressing his forehead against mine as he reaches between us. He’s still hard, the head of his cock purple with need.
“Wrap your legs around me,” Will murmurs, ripping the condom off and dropping it on the floor. He lets go of my throat and uses both of his hands to grab my ass, lifting me in the air. My pussy rubs against his cock as he carries me three steps, slamming me against the mausoleum wall. Holding me against the wall with one hand under my ass and the weight of his body to pin me still, he uses his other hand to guide himself to my entrance. I don’t think I’ve ever been so naked, so desperate, so fucking turned on.
“I’m not letting him take you away from me,” Will says through gritted teeth, pushing into me. It’s different like this, skin on skin. It’s never felt this good before.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, screaming as he seats himself in one violent thrust.
Will pulls back, gripping my chin with his thumb and forefinger, his skin hot, the room cold. “Avery,” he says, and then something clicks for him. He sees it in my face. He knows I’m not going to fight for him, at least not in the way he wants me to. He knows I’m going to marry Joshua. And the rage inside him, when he realizes this, needs somewhere to go.
I open my mouth to explain, but Will clamps a hand over my mouth. His gaze is like fire, and in that moment, it’s like he sees everything I’ve ever kept from him in one devastating flash. I hear his teeth grind together, his jaw straining as he searches for my eyes. Is he looking for hope? For something to redeem me?
Whatever it is he’s looking for, he obviously doesn’t find it. He takes his hand away from my mouth slowly, his intent clear: Don’t speak.
So I don’t. I stay silent, watching him, both of us still breathing heavily, me still impaled on his cock, wet and needy and trying desperately to stop my hips from the shallow thrusts they seem to be doing of their own accord, as my body tries to draw him deeper. Even physically, I feel like I’m losing him.
“Will,” I sob.
His expression turns to pure rage, but I’m not afraid. Not when he takes my wrists in his hands and pulls them down by my sides. He makes a low sound in his throat, almost a growl, as he smashes my wrists against the hard marble wall. It hurts, shock waves of pain lancing from my wrists through my body. I choke on a moan as Will’s fingers return to my throat and squeeze again.
“I love you,” Will says, choking me as he rears back, almost pulling out of me. “But I fucking hate you, Avery.”
He slams into me on the word hate, and I’d scream again if he weren’t choking me. He must realize I’m on the verge of passing out, because he lets go of my throat, returning his palm to my mouth. Every time he fucks into me, it’s brutal. Painful. Carnal. He’s hurting me, but I don’t want him to stop. I want him to fuck me like this until it kills us both.
I’m so wet. He’s so violent. Every time he thrusts, I’m on the brink of coming.
“Don’t you dare come until I say so,” he says, his eyes locked on mine. “I’m not done with you yet.”
A small whine of protest escapes my throat before I can tamp it down. I’m so close it aches, even though the hard wall behind me makes my back hurt, the bite of pain distracting enough to stop me from fully letting go.
“Is this how Daddy’s little whore wants to be fucked?” he asks. “In the dark, against the wall, like a fucking slut?”
My eyes widen when he says that. He takes his hand away from my mouth and continues to rut into me, his eyes burning into mine, demanding an answer. His words should offend me. But I suppose the truth hurts, right? My father is whoring me out, literally, to the highest bidder. A billionaire with a penchant for marrying equally rich teenage girls, whether they like him or not.
But instead of being offended by Will, I’m fucking turned on. “Yes,” I moan.
“Yes, what? Say it.”
Will’s eyes are fire, his grip a vise.
“Ohmygod. Yes! This is how I want to be f-fucked,” I gasp.
Will leans down and sucks my left nipple into his mouth, biting down hard enough to make me squeal. “Fuck!” I protest.
“Say it properly. Say, this is how Daddy’s little whore wants to be fucked. And then I’ll let you come.”
I draw in a ragged breath, everything overwhelming me. Will pinches my other nipple in warning. “Say it.”
Shame and lust flood every cell of my body as I repeat the words. “This is how Daddy’s little whore wants to be fucked,” I moan. Will sucks on my neck hard, hard enough to leave a bruise, and then he fucking bites me.
“Ahh!” I yell, watching him as he pulls his teeth away and kisses me on the mouth. He catches my bottom lip between his teeth and bites down, not enough to draw blood, but enough that it fucking hurts. At the same time, he presses his thumb to my clit and rubs rough circles. His anger thrills through me, the sudden violence welcome, and it’s more than enough to lift me up past the pain.