FaCade (Deception #1) (13 page)

I HADN’T GONE DOWN; I stayed in my room. Two weeks I circled the same layout of this room, ignoring his pleas when he brought me food. I couldn’t bear it any longer; small images of him kept creeping into my mind like he was summoning me with crumbs of who he was. I missed him and that terrified me.

I could smell pizza when I went in search of him. The aroma became more potent the further into the house I ventured.

He sat at the same table as he had two weeks ago, his hair wet from an impromptu shower I heard him take when I didn’t answer his request to come down to eat with him thirty minutes ago. He was dressed casually. I stood out of sight from him but in perfect view to soak him in. In dark loose jeans with a black sweater he still emanated power and dominance; a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

I felt it the minute he sensed me there, he had a way of shifting the atmosphere around him. My cheeks heated when he turned in my direction. “Come eat, Belle.”

I moved from my not so hidden space, my bare feet tapping over the floor with each step I took. “Why do you call me that?”

He watched me with such intensity, an invisible force wrapped around me like a rope and pulled me closer and closer to him. Standing, cupping my cheek, his minty breath mixed with a hard liquor licked over my skin when he breathed. “Because you have always been the most beautiful woman in a room, the belle of the ball.”

Trying not to fidget in his grasp or feel the desire he stoked inside me, I calmly stepped back. His hand dropped with his exhale, and angry eyes pierced me. “You’ll have to get used to me touching you, Belle. You are mine, after all. Whether you remember or not that’s a fact and something you need to accept!”

I fought back the impending tears. “It’s not by choice, not remembering, Dante.”

His one stride closed the gap I had put between us. “It was your choice to risk this, Star! Now look what’s happened. We’re practically strangers who are to be wed in a month.” He was grasping my arms in tight fists, making me wince. My stomach chose that moment to grumble, alerting us both to my hunger. I don’t know why but I flushed with embarrassment. “I got your favorite.”

I looked down at the pizza box. “I don’t eat carbs.” It slipped through my lips from the woman I was before, shocking us both silent. A glimmer of who I once was came through from nothing. It was small but it was something. His eyes widened, matching my own as my heart sped up. “Oh my God, it just came from nowhere, Dante. But it’s true, right?”

A small smile puckered his lips as he nodded. “You have a cheat day once a month and always want pizza; it’s your favorite. I took you to Italy so you could have the real thing.”

He marched across the room to retrieve a box from the cabinet. He placed it in front of me, removing the lid. Pictures. Lifting the first one I almost dropped it again. There we were together, me smiling up at him as he held the camera out of view, taking the image himself at arm’s reach. I looked completely besotted, lovingly gazing up at him. I placed it down on the table and reached for another. I was alone, standing in a field, my hair blowing in the breeze, a smile so bright on my face. I mirrored it, staring down at myself. That was me. Yellow fields spread out behind me like sand in the desert, and perched on a hill, a stunning property overlooked it all. I looked younger though.

“That’s our house in the south of France. You were eighteen here.” His tone was reminiscent. He took the picture and stroked over the image. “I was so in love with you.”

Taking the picture from him, I placed it on the table. “Was?” I held my breath while he intently studied my features before replying.

“She’s lost but we will find her again. You’re mine Star, you know that. Soon your brain will catch up.”

The next picture was of us lying on a sun lounger, him on top of me, nuzzling my neck, my laughter caught perfectly to showcase my happiness. He was so tense beside me. I looked up at him. “This is the holiday when I proposed.”

I looked back down at the picture, willing it to tell me our story. I wanted to scream at the girl in there to help me remember, to show me the memories, but nothing came.

Suddenly he grabbed me and smothered my mouth with his. I let him, losing myself to his carnal need. His tongue angrily swiped at mine, his teeth nipping at my lips. His hand dropped down to grasp my ass cheeks, lifting me up against his body. Mine worked without command, everything fluid like muscle memory. My body remembered him, wanted him, craved him and it was the only thing that actually felt real in my life. I needed the anchor he was offering.

He placed me on the table, forcing his way between my parted thighs, the bulge in his jeans rubbing against me to elicit friction hard enough to encourage the arousal to spark. He was all over me, his hands groping my breasts, his cock rubbing against me, his mouth devouring my lips, cheeks, neck. He was animalistic and brutal in his claiming and that was what this was - a hunter claiming his prey.

He lifted my tee from my body, exposing more skin for him to kiss, lick, bite and mark. When his hot mouth closed over my lace covered nipple a flash conjured an image in my head of us making love, slow and intimate, white sheets beneath us, skin to skin, every part of us touching, connecting as if we were one being. I gasped when it faded and reality rushed in. The gentle love making was replaced with the same man pushing me to my back, tearing my jeans down my legs without removing my panties. He pulled them to the side and thrust fully inside me. I hadn’t even seen him release his cock from the confines of his jeans.

The rude entry sting eased into wet strokes of pure pleasure. He fit me like a glove, as if I was made to his perfect measurements. There was no doubt in my mind I belonged to him, even without the picture evidence and memory flash of us. My body ignited for him, moved in sync with his, my body remembered that his owned it.

With every rushed thrust my back scraped against the wood beneath me, moving me away only for his hold on my hips to pull me back onto him. The burn in my core exploded, tightening me around him and milking his cock. He roared into the room like the beast he was, pulling from me, hot ribbons of cum squirting from him to soak my stomach and breasts.

Our mixed pants filled the void of silence in the room. “Fuck I love how you feel on my cock. You’re such a tight little slut.” His words shocked me, even though he had spoken in such a way before, when I believed I was a captive.

He lifted each ankle, placing them on the table so he had a perfect view between my thighs. Ripping the lace away, the cool air licked over the wet juices there. “Your cunt is seeping for me, hungry for more. Look at it pulsing. Swollen pink perfection.”

I suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable at his observation of the after effects of my climax. Sickness clawed its way up the back of my throat. It had only been weeks since I was attacked and yet thoughts of that violation didn’t filter in when he was touched me, fucked me. That should have been a good thing but mixed with his words, I felt disgusting. But Dante was an artist and his craft... me. I held no restraint or power when it came to him.

“Don’t let the bad memories rule you, Star. Let’s make new ones.” He knew what I was thinking about. His lips came down to suck at my exposed clit. My head dropped back, clashing with the hard planes of the table but the moan was only for the build he grew within me. Fingers plunged into the hot depths of my core as his tongue lapped up every hint of my release. He flicked his tongue over my pink folds using his thumb to circle the hood of my clit. The pressure grew, the firmness pushing down. I was going to explode. His thumb left me so he could slap at my clit. I wanted to tell him no, it was humiliating but the blood rushing to that area, the contrast between his soft wet tongue licking me and his thumb working me too, then the quick, sharp smack had my body in a battle of serene pleasure and pain. The ripples of my orgasm were so intense I screamed as my body convulsed. “Dante! Oh God, yes! Oh God.” My nails scraped at the table.

“That’s it, Star, fucking cum. Squirt all over me you horny fucking bitch, your pussy loves to be owned. CUM!” The pressure exploded, coating his fingers and mouth in wave after wave of my release. I felt the wetness running down and pooling at my butt cheeks. If I wasn’t completely limp in a state of euphoria I would have been embarrassed. “My cock wants to swim in you, Star. You cum like a porn star.”

He flipped me onto my front. Raising my ass in the air, he swiped his tongue from the front of my slit and over my throbbing clit, dipping into my core before travelling up the seam of my ass. I wriggled, trying to pull forward but his grip was too strong. His tongue circled the forbidden hole there. His palm came down hard on my ass cheek, making me squeak. “Bring your feet down, Star, so you’re bent over the table.” I did as he commanded, having to reach up on my tip toes to keep my ass in line with his hips. My breasts squished against the cool wood, giving my sensitive nipples some relief from the ache of needing simulation.

Kicking my ankles to part them, my legs spread wide to give him the access he demanded. Grabbing two handfuls of my ass cheeks, he parted them. The head of his cock leaked pre-cum, making my pussy hungrier for him, the waves of fluttering need begging to be sated.

“Your pussy is a greedy little thing; it needs to learn to share.” With that he pushed his way through the ring of muscle, straight inside my ass, making me screech. The pressure was different and although it stung and I wanted to push out the feel of him, there was pleasure.

“You need to warn people, Dante!” I chastised, to only gain a mocking chuckle.

“Belle, your ass loves strangling my cock. Your body remembers me, just let it lead you.”

As insane as that was, I did. I let my body remind me of Dante because he was the only grasp on life I had. It was so scary, an abyss inside myself. I needed the comfort of him owning me and he did, the pizza forgotten, the pictures splayed out around us while he gave me new memories. They were brutal but I could touch them.

“I CAN JUST ORDER A fresh one.”

Smiling, I shook my head. “It’s fine reheated.” I would have eaten the pizza cold at that point. My stomach was going to eat itself soon, I was that hungry. I felt a little awkward, like I had given up sex on a first date, kind of slutty.

He struggled to turn on the oven. There were a million different knobs and it took up nearly half the back wall with numerous burners; it was impressive. “I take it I do the cooking?” I joked, going over to help him.

He stared at me. He did that a lot which made me uneasy. It was like I was the stranger to him not the other way around. “We have a cook but I gave her some time off due to your memory loss.” Throwing the box down he stormed past me, making me flinch from the hostility of his demeanor.

Guilt swarmed me; it was my fault this was happening. If I hadn’t been so selfish with my own desires and needs, he wouldn’t be living with a stranger. Thoughts of everything that had happened raced through my mind. Why, if we were in love enough to get married, would I have been so indulgent to my own needs, enough that I would make him play along and make it happen? What a selfish, horrible person I must have been to force him into that. How could I have ever wanted that? I didn’t remember the person I was but surely I would have the same urges as her, and the thought of being held captive and degraded would forever be my worst fear. There was nothing sexually desirable about what I lived through in those last few weeks.