“Then stop fucking me! If you hate me so much, then bloody stop this!” Her fists were on my chest, trying to push me away, fighting me off.
I wished I could stop. Still, she had to know that there was no going back from here, especially not after this, most definitely not after this.
Chapter 11
Isobel
My demands were met with Hugo’s powerful thrusts. It was infuriating, vexing, and at the same time, polarizing to feel him move inside me. I had wanted this, and when he had placed his cock teasingly between my wet folds, there had been no going back. I was shameless when it came to him, yet the anger I had for him kept resurfacing because the blasted fool hadn’t even dared to kiss me like he used to.
His kisses were everything to me at one point. They had a way of making me feel more beautiful than any words, than any material things I had been given. And I had thought that giving this part of me would unleash the same need inside him, but it was rather obvious that this was simply to teach me a lesson, nothing more.
“ You… have to stop…” Though, yes, I was protesting, my body was a willing captive to his mercenary ways.
I was my own enemy because, if he had really stopped—God help me—I wouldn’t forgive him. At the same time, I couldn’t fathom his hate. I felt it. I could almost taste it. It practically permeated the air around me.
I was torn between wanting so much more and settling for a scrap of his attention. I wasn’t sure which was worse.
Hell. The madness that had haunted me ever since leaving Monaco simply had to be booted out of my life, or I would never be normal again.
Despite all my conflicting emotions, the beautiful feel of his cock slipping in and out of me was sublime. He felt just as I had imagined—potently intoxicating and totally life altering. How could someone be so infuriating yet be so magical at the same time?
“ This was what you came here for, Isobel. Stop pretending you don’t love what I’m doing to you,” he angrily grunted out with each mind-blowing drive into my pussy. “Admit it— say it . I want to hear you say it.”
“ No, I won’t admit to anything.” It was true, and we both knew it, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
He was none too pleased by my apparent stubbornness. “This will be one hell of a long night if you don’t—”
“ Then it’ll be a long fucking night we shall endure, Hugo.”
“ I have a feeling you’d love just that. In fact, isn’t that what you came for tonight—to stay the night in my bed? I’m right, aren’t I, Isobel?” He smirked before gripping the sides of my hips then shifted his stance to spread my legs even wider, giving him more access to go deeper into me, into my soul.
Shit fucking cakes, how did he expect me to respond when he was stringing me out and playing me like a perfected version of Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons”? I was putty in his hands, in his touch, and in his voice. I was enslaved by the kind of exquisiteness it produced. Through the haze, I was almost convinced that everything would be all right, until he spoke again.
“ What do you want from me?” His question came out accusatory, as if I came here with another agenda in mind apart from my sexual urges.
I panted, staring at him wide-eyed and exposed, undone.
“ You,” I shakily whispered with everything in me. “I just want you.”
He frowned, halting himself from moving whilst throbbing deeply inside my womb. Seeming as if he couldn’t fathom what I had just told him, he murmured, “You had your chance.”
“ I want another,” I choked out, pleading. “Please, I want to be with you, Hugo. Let me be with you.”
“ I don’t give second chances. I won’t change my mind, not even for you.”
He was stubborn and unbending. His made up rules were so ingrained in his psyche that he couldn’t see that I had changed, that things were not the same with me anymore.
“ That’s very cruel. Everyone deserves a
I wished I could stop. Still, she had to know that there was no going back from here, especially not after this, most definitely not after this.
Chapter 11
Isobel
My demands were met with Hugo’s powerful thrusts. It was infuriating, vexing, and at the same time, polarizing to feel him move inside me. I had wanted this, and when he had placed his cock teasingly between my wet folds, there had been no going back. I was shameless when it came to him, yet the anger I had for him kept resurfacing because the blasted fool hadn’t even dared to kiss me like he used to.
His kisses were everything to me at one point. They had a way of making me feel more beautiful than any words, than any material things I had been given. And I had thought that giving this part of me would unleash the same need inside him, but it was rather obvious that this was simply to teach me a lesson, nothing more.
“ You… have to stop…” Though, yes, I was protesting, my body was a willing captive to his mercenary ways.
I was my own enemy because, if he had really stopped—God help me—I wouldn’t forgive him. At the same time, I couldn’t fathom his hate. I felt it. I could almost taste it. It practically permeated the air around me.
I was torn between wanting so much more and settling for a scrap of his attention. I wasn’t sure which was worse.
Hell. The madness that had haunted me ever since leaving Monaco simply had to be booted out of my life, or I would never be normal again.
Despite all my conflicting emotions, the beautiful feel of his cock slipping in and out of me was sublime. He felt just as I had imagined—potently intoxicating and totally life altering. How could someone be so infuriating yet be so magical at the same time?
“ This was what you came here for, Isobel. Stop pretending you don’t love what I’m doing to you,” he angrily grunted out with each mind-blowing drive into my pussy. “Admit it— say it . I want to hear you say it.”
“ No, I won’t admit to anything.” It was true, and we both knew it, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
He was none too pleased by my apparent stubbornness. “This will be one hell of a long night if you don’t—”
“ Then it’ll be a long fucking night we shall endure, Hugo.”
“ I have a feeling you’d love just that. In fact, isn’t that what you came for tonight—to stay the night in my bed? I’m right, aren’t I, Isobel?” He smirked before gripping the sides of my hips then shifted his stance to spread my legs even wider, giving him more access to go deeper into me, into my soul.
Shit fucking cakes, how did he expect me to respond when he was stringing me out and playing me like a perfected version of Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons”? I was putty in his hands, in his touch, and in his voice. I was enslaved by the kind of exquisiteness it produced. Through the haze, I was almost convinced that everything would be all right, until he spoke again.
“ What do you want from me?” His question came out accusatory, as if I came here with another agenda in mind apart from my sexual urges.
I panted, staring at him wide-eyed and exposed, undone.
“ You,” I shakily whispered with everything in me. “I just want you.”
He frowned, halting himself from moving whilst throbbing deeply inside my womb. Seeming as if he couldn’t fathom what I had just told him, he murmured, “You had your chance.”
“ I want another,” I choked out, pleading. “Please, I want to be with you, Hugo. Let me be with you.”
“ I don’t give second chances. I won’t change my mind, not even for you.”
He was stubborn and unbending. His made up rules were so ingrained in his psyche that he couldn’t see that I had changed, that things were not the same with me anymore.
“ That’s very cruel. Everyone deserves a
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