Vanquished (The Encounter #3)(8)

Written By: Pamela Ann

“You’re not going to beat me with that, Hugo, please …” I begged as I closed my eyes, utterly afraid now. All my bravado, my fa?ade, immediately stripped away the moment I realized I had gone too far. I had pushed him to the point of no return.

“Shut your shameful mouth, you filth!” he roared, pushing me against the end of the bed face down. I then felt the belt being wrapped around my thighs. The metal of the buckle felt cold against my heated skin.

Before I could manage to twist my head around to see what he was doing, I felt his hand wrap around the tightness of the belt before sliding my body down just enough for my toes to hit the floor. Then I felt the loud smack of his hand against my ass, making me yelp in pain and surprise. I hadn’t even had enough time to take a deep breath when his massive cock slid into my pu**y and f*cked me mercilessly, without bothering to check if I was wet enough to accommodate his size. He gripped my hips to control my body, to get the perfect leverage, while I remained unmoving, taking every inch of him.

“Your cunt is sopping wet, just like the whore you are. Do you like your cunt to be f*cked like this, Isobel?” he huffed as he delivered another blow to the other side of my ass just as he drilled his cock into me, thrusting as if he were punishing me, purging me of all the lies I had told him.

I didn’t bother to answer him. He knew what his cock did to me. He never needed to ask. I was always ready for him. At any time of the day…

Just when I thought I was in blissful heaven, things shifted. Hugo pulled out of my pu**y and forcefully inserted his cock into my other hole.

“HUGO”!” I squealed as I felt my sphincter painfully stretch open for him. “Hugo—uh—” My body coiled as I felt the burning pain of his length invading my depths. “Damn you!”

“Did he f*ck you here, too?” His hot breath hit the back of my neck, making me shiver before my body gave in to him, as if I couldn’t deny him anything.

Too numb to respond, my body began to relax as I felt his dick slowly inch into me. Gradually, as the pain began to feel tolerable, I felt some pleasure resurfacing once again.

“Isobel …” he groaned as he reveled in the feeling of me. “Tra?tre …” (Traitor.) He then took hold of my hair from the back of my scalp, yanking backwards so my ear was next to his lips. “Did you let him f*ck you here, little whore?”

He felt larger than life. I was in awe. I was in pain. I was engulfed by the immeasurable pleasure of him feverishly thrusting into my body as if he couldn’t get enough. Nothing mattered—nothing but this.

His anger was justified. I had lied. But after tonight, I would let him be. My lies and the hurt I had caused him were enough to keep me at bay. His reaction and the wrath he was willing to unleash on me and my family were enough to shut me up forever. So this was my gift to him, my last good-bye—my body—because I knew I would never let another man touch me there.

“Je suis désolé, mon amour. Je suis désolé …” (I’m sorry, my love. I’m sorry…) He could take that however he wanted, but it was the truth.

For a moment, he stopped thrusting into me, heavily breathing against the back of my neck, before I felt his hand gently twist my head to meet his eyes.

Hugo appeared troubled. His eyes flickered as if trying to read me before he snaked out the tip of his tongue and licked the top of his lip. “I’m going to ask you this one last time, Isobel.” Dark orbs drilled into mine. “Did you let—” His nostrils flared before he cocked his head to the side then honed in on me again. “Did Julien—BLOODY FUCK! I can’t do this!” He cursed as he slid out of my body and unstrapped the belt from my thighs then furiously strode towards the opposite side of the room to the window, standing like a proud king with both his hands on his hips while his cock proudly protruded in the air.

“Hugo?” I was still reeling from his immediate withdrawal. We were having sex … and all of a sudden, he let me go as if he didn’t want me at all.

He shook his head “I can’t look at you. I can’t be near you. I’m calling Julien. I have to know the truth. I have to know every goddamn despicable thing you did with him.”

My web of lies … f*ck. Even if I told him I had made it up, he was too far into his anger to believe me.

“You should give him more credit,” I lamely tried to enlighten him, but there was no convincing him.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you, so no, he should’ve respected that you’re mine, that you were forbidden,” he declared, taking his phone from the discarded trousers. Then, without any mar of clothing, he strode out of the bedroom, giving me an unprecedented view of his muscled, supple bottom.

In less than a minute, fluid, angry French words were being hurled in the air without pause.

Bless him, Julien probably was confused at his friend’s accusations, but I could explain later. I had so much to apologize for. And since there wasn’t much to be done, I busied myself by getting ready as I tried to wipe my tears away.

The sex hadn’t meant anything. It meant everything to me, but it was best I saw it for what it was. I shouldn’t let my heart think Hugo had changed his mind, that he, indeed, wanted me. He had said it himself: it was a punishment for my pseudo-betrayal. Therefore, it meant nothing.

Wiping my tears, I almost smiled when I saw my phone discarded next to Hugo’s clothes. Plucking it up, I slipped it inside my purse before I quietly dressed then walked out of the bedroom. Immediately, I saw Hugo at the bar, cursing and yelling as if it was the end of the world. He was so distracted from his heated conversation with Julien that I easily slipped out of the penthouse without him noticing me.