CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Mateo remained standing, his eyes locked on mine, a hint of something unreadable in his gaze. I waited, heart pounding, uncertain of what was to come next. He moved away from me; his footsteps silent on the glossy floor as he headed toward a gold-trimmed bar. The sound of glass clinking softly against glass filled the space as he poured himself another drink, the amber liquid catching the light.

As he took a sip, he turned slightly, his gaze sharp and probing. “What did you show Melody on your phone earlier?”

His question caught me off guard. How did he know about that?

“Cameras in the car,” he answered my unspoken question, his tone as casual as if we were discussing the weather.

I swallowed, feeling a lump form in my throat. The truth wasn't going to do me any favors, but a lie would be worse. I knew that much .

“I… I asked her about getting some medication,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mateo’s eyes darkened slightly, though his expression remained composed. He set his glass down with deliberate care, the soft clink echoing in the silence between us. He took a slow breath, his features betraying a hint of displeasure that sent a chill down my spine.

“Medication,” he repeated, his voice low and controlled. “May I ask why you felt the need to discuss such matters with someone other than the one responsible for your wellbeing?”

I felt a flicker of anger. “She isn’t someone, she’s my best friend.”

“Is she?” He swirled the ice in his glass. “What if she wasn’t?”

“What?”

“Her and that boy. I’m beginning to wonder if I made the right decision by allowing them to stay close to you. ”

His words hung in the air like a heavy fog, suffocating me as I struggled to comprehend their implications.

“You have no right to dictate every aspect of my life.”

"Your life belongs to me now. I can do whatever I want with it.”

I steadied myself, my hands trembling with a mix of fear and defiance. Mateo's gaze bore into me, unwavering and intense, as if assessing my every move. A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes before being replaced by a cold calculation.

"You seem to have forgotten our talk from this morning," Mateo said softly, his words laced with a dangerous edge. "I can make everything you hold dear disappear without uttering a word." His expression remained stoic, giving nothing away as he watched me closely. "You will have privilege beyond anything you can fathom," Mateo began slowly, his tone measured and deliberate. "But do not mistake it for freedom. Your choices are not yours alone to make anymore."

"I never asked for any of this," I retorted, my voice stronger now despite the trembling in my hands. "I never wanted to be a part of your world."

Mateo's features remained impassive, but a glint of something unreadable flashed in his eyes before he masked it once more behind a veil of indifference. "Yet here you are," he remarked, his tone neutral. “Wearing the ring I slid on your finger. Wearing the marks I left on your skin like a pretty collar. Sitting in my suite with the view of the city you’ll be staring at as I fuck you tonight.”

I wanted to lash out, to resist, but what choices did I have? None that mattered, it seemed.

He took another sip of his drink. “Now why don’t you tell me what you really asked her about? If you’re feeling shy, I can get the answer out of her myself. Actually,” he pretended to consider something. “Angel would love a go at your friend. I’m the only thing that’s stopping him from making a whore of her.”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry and my mind racing. That was a threat wrapped in a promise. The Bellucci's were a powerful family but against his? They would be wiped out entirely. “I…” I glanced away, then met his penetrating gaze. “I asked her about birth control.”

His lips curved into a smile, revealing a hint of satisfaction at my admission. I realized then; that he’d somehow already known. "Ah, so you were hoping to outsmart me, were you?" he mused. “So our little chat this morning has already been forgotten.”

“No—it hasn’t.”

He leaned back against the bar, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips. “Fortunately, I’m always one step ahead.” He finished off his drink and then began to roll back his sleeves. “Stand up, anjinho.”

Slowly, I pushed myself up from the plush couch, my body moving almost mechanically as I complied with Mateo's demand. He approached me with measured steps, his eyes moving over me from head to toe. “I really like you in this dress,” he remarked, his voice laced with approval. “You're trembling," he observed, his voice low and smooth like velvet against my harsh nerves. "You try so hard to be brave, to keep your fears hidden, but they're betraying you." His fingers gripped my jaw and tilted my head back. “Your eyes tell me all I need to know, and fear has never looked more fucking beautiful.” He captured my lips with a searing kiss, his mouth firm and insistent. I could taste the remnants of the drink he had been sipping.

When he finally released me, he trailed his fingers down my cheek, wiping away a tear that had escaped without my realization. “I’m going to enjoy tonight.” He said softly, his voice a seductive rumble. “I’m going to enjoy every second of it.” His thumb traced over my lower lip before he dropped his hand to my neck, using it to anchor me while he removed my dress. Not in a gentle way—he tore the lace apart.

“Mateo.” I gasped at the unexpected roughness of his actions. “Wait.”

“I’ve wanted to take this off you since you walked through the door.” He let the torn dress slip to the floor, leaving me standing before him in nothing but a bra and G-string. His gaze traveled over my naked skin, taking in every curve and contour. I shivered under his scrutiny, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. "You're truly exquisite," he murmured, tracing the band of my strapless bra. He bit his lip, considering the garment for a moment. "I want to see all of you.”

I swallowed, knowing where this was leading to—again. Judging by the look in his eyes, it was going to be rough. With a deep sense of trepidation, I reached behind my back and unhooked my bra, letting it fall to the floor alongside the dress. Now in nothing but my underwear and heels, I suppressed a shiver from the cool air.

“This too.” He released my throat and pulled the side of my G-string, letting it snap back against my skin. I whimpered at the sting, and eased it down my legs, kicking it away with a heel. He hummed in approval, cupping my breasts in his hands, and massaging them roughly. I winced at the sharp pain as his lips went to my neck. His teeth gently nipped at my skin, leaving another mark that would surely be visible in the morning. His breath was hot against my flesh, making the goosebumps rise on my exposed skin. His hands continued to work their magic on my breasts, his fingertips causing a shockwave of sensation that I couldn't control.

Without warning, he pushed me down onto the sofa, the sudden force catching me off guard. My breath hitched as I landed on the plush cushions. "Stay," he commanded softly. I remained where I was, my body tense and alert, my eyes locked onto his. He stepped away from me, his movements deliberate and measured, but his gaze never wavered from mine. It was as if he was testing me, waiting to see if I would dare to move, to challenge his control. He returned to the kitchen area and poured himself another drink, the sound sharp in the otherwise quiet room. He took a sip, his eyes still fixed on me, as if he was savoring both the taste of the liquor and the sight of me obediently waiting. “Spread your legs.”

I hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard. I slowly did as he instructed. The cool air brushed against my bare skin, but his gaze kept me anchored to my place on the couch. "Good girl.” He stared at my pussy, his expression unreadable. “Touch yourself.”

I reached down, acutely aware of his scrutiny, feeling as though his gaze could pierce through me. With uncertainty, I began to rub gentle circles around clit, far beyond my comfort zone. He watched me intently, his eyes never leaving my hands.

"More," he commanded, his voice deep and authoritative. “Fuck your fingers, anjinho.”

My heart pounding in my chest, I obeyed his command, thrusting my fingers deeper into my wetness. I couldn't help but whimper softly as my fingers brushed against my sensitive spot, pleasure and fear mixing in a potent cocktail.

"Faster," he said, his voice low and commanding.

I increased the pace of my movements, my breath ragged as I struggled to maintain control. My eyes never left his, watching as he sipped his drink, his expression unreadable. It was as if he was watching a chess game, and I was just one of his pawns .

“So you do listen,” he mused with a taunting smile. “Add another finger, I can see how wet you are.”

I hesitated again, but I knew what I had to do. Gathering all my remaining strength, I slid another finger into my silky folds. A moan escaped my lips involuntarily, but I didn't want to lose control. I pushed my fingers deeper, feeling the wetness around them. My heart raced, my nipples hardened, and my breath grew shorter.

"There's a good girl," he said, his voice low and sultry. "Now, make yourself come."

At his command, I focused all my attention on my pleasure. I moved my fingers faster and more firmly, the sensation of them inside me driving me to the edge. The fear, the danger, and the power he held over me all added to the intensity of my arousal.

"Say my name," he commanded, his eyes locked onto mine .

I gasped in surprise at his demand, but I knew what he wanted. I clenched my eyes shut and whispered his name. “Mateo.”

"Again," he ordered his voice like velvet.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to open my eyes and meet his gaze. I whispered his name once more, feeling a strange mix of pleasure and shame.

He leaned back slightly, his smirk growing wider. "Louder, anjinho," he commanded. "Scream it for me."

I couldn't believe I was doing this, but I knew he would make me do it. Inhaling sharply, I screamed his name at the top of my lungs, feeling the words vibrate in my chest. His eyes seemed to glow as he watched me. "Yes, that's it," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Now, let go, anjinho.”

I took a deep, shaking breath, feeling the familiar rush of pleasure and release building within me. As I focused on the sensation, I couldn't help but feel his eyes on me, watching my every move with a predatory hunger. But at the same time, there was something else there – something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Abruptly, I felt my body convulse as an intense orgasm washed over me. I let out a breathy cry, my head thrown back as the pleasure consumed me, my pussy gushing onto the sofa beneath me.

He was in front of me, moving without a sound. My eyes flew open as he pulled my hand from my pussy and grabbed hold of me by the throat, partially lifting me up to kiss me roughly. His lips were rough and possessed, consuming me in a way that left no room for air or thought. His other hand dropped to his slacks, making quick work of his belt. He lifted me further and turned me around, positioning me on the edge of the couch, using a knee to spread my legs wide apart. His palm forced my shoulders down. My chest felt compressed, and my heart pounded against my ribs. His hands gripped my hips as I tried to catch my breath, staring at the wall of glass that overlooked the city in the distance. I tried to gather my wits and focus on the rapidly approaching reality. I could see our reflection in the glass, the two of us staring back. He had a predatory look in his eyes, and I felt like prey. My heart was pounding in my chest, and my breathing was short and sharp.

He positioned himself behind me, his body hovering above mine. I could feel the heat radiating off of him, and the anticipation was almost unbearable. There were no sweet words or gentle caresses. He entered me with one thrust, burying himself as deep as he could go. I cried out from the roughness and the sheer size of him filling me completely. My hands clawed at the sofa cushions, grasping for purchase as he began to move within me.

He was brutal.

He fucked me with no holds barred.

The glass wall seemed to blur as our reflections danced wildly, each movement amplifying our animalistic desires. My head fell back, my mind hazy with the intensity of our encounter. I felt his hand wrap around my throat once more, a reminder of his dominance and the control he held over me. I moaned, unable to resist him even if I wanted to. My body shuddered with each thrust, my pussy clenching around him, begging for more. Suddenly, he pulled out, leaving me empty. In one fluid motion, he thrust into me again.

“So goddamn perfect.” He slapped my ass, fucking me harder and without any mercy. His thrusts became more aggressive, more possessive.

“Too much,” I gasped, my body aching under his relentless assault. I gripped the sofa cushions harder, my nails digging in, leaving marks.

"Too much?" He sneered, his voice low and dangerous. "You think this is too much? We’re just getting started." He withdrew and grabbed me off the sofa by my throat, collaring me with his hand and walking me to the window. I was shoved against the glass, my breasts flattening against the cool surface. He leaned in close to my ear, his breath fanning against my skin. "You think you can resist me? You think you can deny me this?"

He hooked one of my legs over his forearm and then thrust back inside me, the height difference forcing me onto my tiptoes. I cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, my body struggling to adjust to the intensity of his invasion. He held me against the window and forced me to take every thick inch of him. It was rough, relentless, and completely unforgiving. My cries echoed through the room, a perfect soundtrack to the symphony of flesh slapping against flesh and the groans of lust that filled the air. I could feel my pussy dripping down my legs.

“Fuck. I need to be deeper.” He released my throat and turned me around, kissing me again. His tongue invaded my mouth with the same aggression and dominance as his thrusts. He lifted me up and carried me to the suite’s bedroom. He placed me on the bed and stepped back to remove his shirt, and then his slacks.

My eyes followed his every move, devouring the sight of his perfect, sculpted body. The way his muscles flexed and relaxed as he undressed himself was a sight to behold. It was a spectacle of raw masculinity. As soon as he was unclothed, he was reaching for me, dragging me to the very edge of the bed. He forced my hips to lift as he placed my legs on his shoulders. He was back inside me on my next breath, fucking me so hard I thought I was going to break apart. There was no relief from the pressure or how full I felt, he held me firmly in place. My hands clutched the sheets, my knuckles turning white with the force of my grip. I cried out his name and pleaded for him to stop, but he ignored my protests. It was as if he thrived on my pain, my resistance only fueling his desire to conquer me .

His rhythm became more unrelenting, his thrusts more brutal, as if he was trying to break me, to claim me completely. The room was filled with the sounds of our passion, and I found myself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. Part of me hated him for this, for the way he was taking me without care for my feelings. Another part had my pussy growing slick around him because of the way he was using me. There was nothing sentimental between us—just him wielding his power over me, and me being forced to take everything he gave.

His eyes locked onto mine, a mixture of lust and dominance in them. I felt powerless beneath him, my body responding to the brutal pounding he was giving me. My cries of pain and pleasure were muffled by my own moans as my body shook uncontrollably. I was going to come. I couldn't believe the intensity of the emotions coursing through me. I felt like I was on the edge of a precipice, about to tumble into an abyss of pure ecstasy. The man above me, with his rough, dominating demeanor, was driving me to the brink of insanity. I wasn't sure if I wanted to scream or beg him to stop.

“Look at us,” he demanded.

I glanced down at the sight of our bodies entwined, his cock thrusting deep within me, covered in juices and tinges of blood. There was no denying the intense pleasure I was feeling, despite the pain that accompanied it. There was something almost primal about the way we were connecting. He slipped my legs from his shoulders and hooked them over his forearms, allowing him to come closer and drive even deeper. I let out a gasp, feeling his dick hit a spot inside me that had my toes curling. I dug my nails into his shoulders, desperate to keep myself grounded, even as my body was careening toward a pleasure so intense it bordered on agony. His eyes never left mine, gauging my reactions, feeding off my desperation, and he moved his hips in time with my quickened breaths. The air around us crackled with electricity as the night grew darker outside. It briefly filtered through my mind this wasn’t solely about pleasure for him. He was diligently studying me, observing every twitch, every flush, every gasp, to gain more control over me. It made the situation even more suffocating, knowing that even in the throes of passion, he maintained his dominance. I struggled to stifle my cries of pleasure-turned-pain, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how thoroughly his assault was affecting me.

I could feel my body tightening, the sensation building, a world away from the pain I had been experiencing just moments ago. I could see the victory in his eyes, his triumph in this game of control. A small part of me wanted to reach out to him, to beg him to stop, to make it easier, but another part of me wanted to keep playing this dangerous game. I wanted to see just how far he would push me, how far I could let him take me. My hands clawed at his back and shoulders, leaving deep marks that I knew would bruise in the morning. I squeezed my eyes shut, biting my lip to keep from crying out, but it was no use. A loud wail tore from my throat as I climaxed, my body shaking beneath him. He groaned; his own release imminent. He thrust once, twice, three times, each time hitting that spot deep within me that sent waves of pleasure cascading through me like a tidal wave.

He didn’t waste any time pulling out of me. His lips crushed against mine and he maneuvered my body so that my head was where my pussy had been, the comforter beneath me drenched. “Suck,” he commanded, his voice low and rough. I hesitated for a moment, my mind still reeling and my chest still heaving. I finally relented and opened my mouth to take him in. His length slid between my lips, and I could taste us mingled together – a salty, sweet concoction that made my stomach churn with a mixture of disgust and arousal. He wasn’t hard anymore, but he was still long and thick. I had never done this before, never let anyone come in my mouth, but something about the power dynamic at play made me feel daring and defiant. I worked my lips over him, sucking and stroking, running my tongue over the veins and ridges while he moaned above me.

“Faster,” he ordered calmly, his hands threading through my hair, guiding my movements. I obeyed, picking up speed, my jaw tightening as I struggled to keep up with the intensity of his reactions. His cock began hardening again, growing bigger than it already was. I coughed around him. He laughed and thrust deeper, groaning when I choked. "That's it, baby," he groaned, his voice laced with both satisfaction and harshness. My eyes were watering, turning him into a blur. He grew harder and abruptly pulled out of my mouth; the tip still wet from my efforts .

He looked down at me and cupped my face. “You’re going to turn around now. I want your legs spread and your ass up.”

My eyes widened. He wanted to keep going? “No, Mateo—.”

“It wasn’t a question.” He flipped me onto my stomach and lifted my hips. I bit back a whimper as he spread my legs wider and positioned himself at my entrance. I felt the familiar pressure as he pushed inside me. I fisted the sheets and breathed through it, my pussy clenching around his cock. "You’re so tight,” he muttered, pulling my hips back and then forward again. His movements were slow and deliberate, the feeling of being filled with him overwhelming. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to process what was happening, but the sensations were too intense. He continued forcing me to meet his thrusts until I was doing it myself.

"That's it," he hissed, as his hands left my hips to grip my thighs, pulling me back against him. "You’re taking it so good, anjinho." Each slap of his hips against my ass echoed through the room, a cacophony of flesh on flesh punctuating the air. My breaths were coming in ragged, moaned gasps.

His hands suddenly left my thighs, only to return to my hair and throat, grabbing and pulling me back against him until he was so deep in my pussy that I felt like I could feel him in my stomach. I cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure, my voice echoing through the room. "Harder," I begged, surprising myself. Mateo chuckled darkly at my plea. With a sudden, crushing force, he slammed into me, taking me to the very edge of my limits. My entire body shuddered, and I screamed into the sheets, reaching blindly for purchase. He was relentless, his every thrust punctuated by the sounds of our bodies colliding, a primal, carnal symphony. “Oh, God.” I gasped and moaned, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure and pain through my entire being .

My clit throbbed, desperate for attention, but Mateo's relentless pace seemed to be more focused on my discomfort than my arousal.

“Gods not here, baby," he rasped, his cock driving deep into me with each definitive sweep. "It's just me and you, you and me, forever. And the only worshipping you’ll be doing is for me."

His declaration sent shivers down my spine, and I suddenly felt a new kind of heat between my legs. My wetness grew, and I realized that I was close. So close. He pulled my hair tighter, making me wince in pain, but it only fueled my arousal further. He whispered dirty, forbidden things into my ear, savoring the way my body responded to his every command. He reached around and began caressing my clit with his slick fingers. At first, my body tensed at the unexpected touch, but then a shockwave of pleasure burst through me. Mateo's fingers moved in rhythm with his thrusts, hitting all the right spots, and sending my arousal into overdrive.

I couldn't help but moan, the sound reverberating through the room. My hips bucked against him, desperate for more. I came hard. "Oh, God," I cried out, my voice hoarse from the intensity of the experience. "Yes, please, yes.”

Mateo's satisfied laugh echoed through the room as he continued his relentless rhythm. My body was on fire, trembling uncontrollably as I felt another orgasm building. This time, I didn't want it to stop, I wanted it to consume me, to take me to new heights. As he moved faster, I begged for more, each plea more desperate than the last.

"Please, harder, Mateo." My voice was hoarse, an echo of my desperate need. His response was to thrust even harder, each movement driving me closer and closer to the edge. The pleasure-pain mix was overwhelming, and I couldn't tell where one began and the other ended. He chuckled again, and without pulling out, flipped me so that I was on my back. "You want it harder, anjinho?"

"Yes, harder," I moaned, my voice filled with need.

He took advantage of my vulnerability and seized the opportunity to claim me fully. Each thrust was harder, rougher than before, as he took what he wanted from me. The pain and pleasure coalesced into one all-consuming sensation, and I found myself lost in it. I clawed at his back, leaving red marks on his skin, but he didn't seem to mind. He was too caught up in our shared ecstasy to care. The room filled with the sounds of our bodies colliding and our ragged breaths, punctuated by the occasional slap of skin on skin. I didn't care who might hear us; I was lost in the moment. My eyes rolled back in my head as the intensity increased.

As Mateo continued to thrust, his eyes locked onto mine with a feral intensity that made my pussy clench even tighter. "That's it, anjinho," he growled, his accent thick and sexy. "Take it, let me feel you shatter around me."

I cried out, my body heating up with waves of pleasure. I felt the orgasm building deep inside me, threatening to consume me whole. I clawed at his slick back, needing to feel his skin against mine, to be closer to him.

Mateo's eyes never left mine, his gaze intense and filled with desire. He thrust harder, deeper, his movements rough and possessive. I felt myself slipping further and further into the abyss, each thrust drawing me closer to the edge. My moans became louder, and my body arched, begging for more.

"I'm going to come, Mateo," I gasped, my voice barely a whisper. "Please, don't stop, don't stop."

Mateo's smile grew wider, his eyes flashing with triumph. “let me hear you scream my name. "

I couldn't hold back any longer. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, wanting him deeper. “Mateo!" I moaned his name, my voice echoing in the room as my orgasm finally hit me. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over me, and I clawed at his back, feeling him shudder as he thrust into me. Mateo's breath hitched, his movements stuttering for just a moment before he regained control. His dark hair was disheveled, a light sweat trickling down his neck. His muscles tensed and flexed with each powerful thrust, his gaze piercing and intense. The scent of sex filled the air, mingling with the musky aroma of Mateo's cologne. He still had this air of calculated control as he moved inside me.

“Fuck," he growled, "you feel so fucking good."

I reached up to touch his face, to feel the heat of his skin beneath my fingers. "Mateo," I whispered, my voice barely audible above the sound of our heavy breathing .

He growled, his eyes darkening as he thrust into me, his hips driving us both closer to the edge. "Say my name again," he demanded, his voice rough and deep.

I did, and the sound of my voice seemed to push him closer. He leaned down, his mouth capturing mine in a searing kiss. He thrust into me with newfound urgency, his movements forceful as if he was trying to break something, to leave his mark on me. I thought he’d finish soon, but he kept going, fucking me until I felt boneless and could no longer string together a sentence or feel my legs. I asked him to stop, the word a weak plea as he continued making me come—the pleasure almost painful now. I surpassed being able to handle more but had no choice but to endure. I wanted to make him come, my body was screaming for a break. I let out a pained cry, my hands clutching tightly onto his shoulders in a desperate attempt to hold onto something, anything. My body was a mass of sensations—overwhelming and all- encompassing. It was like he was rewiring me, remapping my entire body and mind.

He braced himself with one hand beside my head and hooked my leg over his arm, fucking me at a new angle. “Touch yourself.”

“I-I can’t,” I rasped, the thought of coming again too much to bear.

“You will."

I hesitated, but the intensity in his eyes urged me on. Gingerly, I brought my hand down between us, expelling a shaky breath when my fingertips skimmed over my clit.

My touch became more confident, my fingers moving in small, firm circles. I could feel the tightness in my core building, a heat spreading from my center outwards. I moaned softly, my eyes fluttering closed for a moment as the pleasure intensified.

"You're so fucking beautiful,” he intoned. "Fuck, yes," he murmured, his grip on my thigh tightening. "I want to feel that pussy squeezing me. "

I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze again. My breath hitched, and I knew I was close. I quickened my pace, pleasure and need coursing through my veins. He matched my movements with a fierce intensity. "That's it," he praised.

"Oh God," I gasped, my mind hazy with pleasure. I could feel his eyes on me, the intensity of his gaze intensifying the sensations coursing through me. I pressed harder against myself, my breaths shallow and ragged. A shudder ran through me, and I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to take it anymore. He thrust harder, and I could feel him hitting that spot inside me, the one that sent me spiraling over the edge. A cry escaped my lips, my body trembling uncontrollably as another wave of pleasure washed over me.

“Goddamn, I'm going to come.” He thrust once, twice, his breath hitched and his eyes locked onto mine. A fierce intensity consumed his gaze, and I could feel him tensing. I whimpered, clutching the sheets as his movements became erratic, his hips pounding into me. He groaned, his body stiffened, and then he was coming. I felt it, a warm surge within me, and I let out a soft cry. I watched him, his mask slipping enough to reveal a look of bliss. Without a word, he lowered my leg and pulled out of me. I exhaled slowly, my body still trembling. He looked down at me, still not speaking, his expression inscrutable once again. His hand softly caressed my cheek, brushing a lock of hair away from my face. It was a rare show of tenderness from him.

He withdrew and stood up, reaching down to pick me up as if I weighed nothing. I didn’t have the energy to protest. I rested my head on his shoulder as he carried me to the bathroom. He set me down gently on the cold tile floor, and I shuffled over to the toilet, feeling weak and spent. I was grateful it was behind its own door. I doubted he would’ve given me the privacy to pee. As I relieved myself, I winced at how sore I was and looked between my legs. I saw a mixture of blood and fluids, and my labia felt raw and swollen. I wiped myself gingerly, trying to be as gentle as possible.

I heard the sound of the shower running and was suddenly desperate for the warm water, despite how exhausted I felt. I sat on the toilet for a moment, catching my breath, before I stood up and left the tiny room of peace. Mateo was waiting for me, the steamy air offering a welcome contrast to the chilly bathroom. He reached for my hand and led me into the large space. A sigh left my lips the second the multiple shower heads rained heated water down on me. I closed my eyes and savored the moment, the warm water massaging my sore muscles and the pulsing shower heads enveloping me in a cocoon of comfort. Mateo's strong arms wrap around me from behind, his hands gently caressing my hips. His breath was warm against my neck, and I could feel his heartbeat against my back .

"Are you alright?" he asked in a soft voice I didn’t trust.

I wasn’t remotely alright, but I was learning to compartmentalize. I nodded, trying to get lost in the sensations of the shower. "Yes, I'm fine. Just sore."

“You’ll get used to it.” He continued to hold me close, his grip comforting but also a silent reminder of his control. As the warm water continued to cascade down on us, I felt a blend of pain and revulsion. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes again, leaning against him not for comfort, but because I was so fucking exhausted.

Mateo's hands slowly moved down towards my lower abdomen, tracing the delicate curve of my hips, and then dipping lower still. I tensed, unsure of what his next move would be, silently pleading for him to stop there. His fingers ghosted over my swollen labia, tracing the folds gently. A shiver ran through me, a mix of dread and submission. When he didn’t take it any further, I had to suppress a sigh of relief.

I slowly began to relax, the warm water still showering down on us. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, his strong hands still holding me close. The moment stretched on, suspended in time like a delicate bubble on the verge of bursting.