Sold to Moretti Mafia

Julian

Lunch ends the same way breakfast did, with Elena being stubborn. She refuses to eat and gives me a dirty look, sneering at me like I kicked her dog. I’m tempted to tell her she looks sexy as fuck even angry, but I get the feeling that would make matters worse.

When dinner time arrives, I stroll into the bedroom with the tray, determined to make her eat this time. Even if I have to shove the food down her throat, she is going to eat. As soon as I walk in, her emerald eyes narrow.

“You’re not hurting anyone but yourself by refusing to eat.”

“I’m hurting you,” she says softly with a smile on her lips.

I grip the tray a little tighter, envisioning it as her throat. She’s pushing all my fucking buttons, and soon I won’t be responsible for what happens.

“No, you aren’t. Do you have to use the restroom?” I ask, setting the tray down at the end of the bed.

She nods her head, and I retrieve the key from my pocket. I uncuff one hand and then the other. Taking a step back, I give her room to walk by, but like always, she shocks the hell out of me when she shoves off the bed and comes right for me like a feral animal. Lifting my hands, I try and protect myself and subdue her, but she’s like a bucking bronco.

“Why would you leave me here so you could screw someone else?” she snarls.Original content from NôvelDrama.Org.

What the hell is she talking about?

I don’t even get to ask because she’s attacking again. Her tiny hands might not have much strength behind them, but her slaps sting, and when her nails catch me on my neck, digging into the skin, I hiss. My hands circle both her wrists, and I press them against her chest.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I growl right into her face, feeling the warm blood on my skin. My cock is so hard it presses against the zipper of my pants, wanting to be unleashed. Her violence only makes me want her more.

Horror fills her eyes as she gazes up at my neck.

Yes, you did that, my queen.

“The other night… you left, were gone all night. You didn’t want me, so you went somewhere else.”

A light bulb goes off in my head. I can’t stop my lips from tipping up at the sides. “Jealousy looks very good on you, and I must say, if it’s always going to make you act this way, I may make you jealous more often.”

“I’m not jealous,” she says angrily, struggling against me.

I laugh in her face. “You are, and that’s okay. I like it. It turns me on, makes me want to strip you down and taste you all over.”

The fire in her eyes calls to me. “As if I’d let you do that, knowing you were with someone else.”

Curling my own lip, I tug her to my chest and grind my groin against her. “If you must know, I wasn’t with anyone else. I was taking care of business. No one’s pussy has my attention like yours, sweet Elena.” I bite her earlobe hard, and pleasure fills my chest when she lets out a soft whimper.

“You weren’t with someone else?” she whispers, almost as if she doesn’t believe it. I knew when I left that she felt rejected, but I had to leave and get out of the room and away from her before I did something I couldn’t finish.

“No. I wasn’t. I turned down sex because I had work that needed to be done, and it couldn’t wait. I had to force myself to leave this room, so I didn’t fuck you straight through the mattress.”

I release her wrists when I see her features soften. She really thought I left to have sex with someone else. Taking a step back, she gives me one more look, something close to guilt flashing in her eyes. Before I can latch onto that look, she’s rushing into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

Sighing, I walk over to the bed and sit. Bringing my hand to my neck, I trace the raised marks with a finger and smile. Great, just when the last scratches had healed up.

Fierce, determined, and so fucking beautiful. Pulling my hand away, I see the small smear of blood on my fingers.

A few moments later, Elena returns to the bed, crawling up onto it, settling into her usual spot. I feel her gaze on my neck as I cuff her wrists back into place. She hasn’t given up, it’s obvious, but she’s done fighting for now.

“Would you like to eat?” I ask, moving the tray between us.

“Yes,” she murmurs.

I nearly grin as I pull the top off of her plate. The savory smell of tomatoes and Italian seasoning fill my nostrils-spaghetti with meatballs.

Elena’s eyes glaze over, and she licks her lips. She must be starving. Grabbing the fork, I twirl some noodles and a slice of meatball onto it and bring it to her pink lips.

Eating shouldn’t be seen as sexual, but the way that her lips pass over the fork as she devours the food I’m offering her, turns me right the fuck on.

We continue this motion, me feeding her, and offering her small drinks of water in between, with her actually eating until the entire plate is empty. Leaning back against the pillows, she groans. I move the tray and place it on the chaise lounge.