Page 40 of Ruthless Roses
Threemissed calls from Dad…
I shudder out a sigh at the conflicted feelings inside me. The genuine joy motherhood brings me and my ongoing struggle with everything else.
The bedroom door flies open. I look up in alarm, my eyes wide and my heart racing.
Salvatore strides through. He blows into the room like a powerful storm that’s about to knock me off my feet. He slams the door shut, the foundation of the large house itself seemingly shaking, and heads straight for me.
His face composed and authoritative. His gaze feral.
My lips part as if to speak, but I can’t figure out what to say. Suddenly, I feel dazed, like I’m dreaming.
“On the bed,” he commands. “Now.”
“Jon—”
“I’m not asking.” He grabs me by the arm and whips me around ’til I’m dizzy and facing the bed. His hands are on me at once, tugging and wrenching off my billowy nightgown that swallows up my body.
My every insecurity takes over me. My arms come up to block his attempt and shield myself.
Salvatore smacks them away, expertly managing to have me standing in nothing but my nursing bra and panties within seconds.
I squeal, taken by surprise at his manhandling—he really is a storm in this moment, like a tornado I’ve found myself swept up in.
A true force to be reckoned with.
“You’re not hiding from me anymore,” he growls, nipping at my ear. His hands roam my body. My breasts and stomach. The apex of my thighs, rubbing my pussy through the cotton fabric of my panties. “If I have to, I’ll tie you to this bed and fuck you morning, noon, and night. Just to make you feel good. Just to show you how fucking insane you make me.”
A flame of heat breaks out over my skin. I gasp at his threat, still dizzy and disoriented by the suddenness of the moment. I struggle on a response.
“Jon… what are you… ahhh!”
His hand slams into my ass and makes me jump. He kisses my cheek, then my jaw and throat. “I said, get on the fucking bed.”
I’m gobsmacked and speechless as I crawl on.
“Down. More.” His hand grips my shoulder, and he pushes me further down on the bed before I can even comprehend what’s happening. Before I can even react or protest.
I’m contorted into the position he wants. One of his favorites. Face down with my ass hanging in the air.
A flurry of nerves attacks my stomach. Insecurity and unease reminding me I don’t feel comfortable. I don’t want to be this exposed—
I move to push myself up only to be shoved back down.
“Did I tell you to get up?” Salvatore growls from somewhere behind me.
My head shakes. “Jon, I don’t want—”
“You don’t feel good, is that it?” he interrupts in another snarl. Anger and frustration thicken his voice. “You feel self-conscious, is that right?”
I can’t lie. I can’t pretend otherwise. Hesitantly, my cheek pressed into the duvet of our bed, I give a nod.
He grunts, his suspicions confirmed.
His shoes thud against the bedroom floor as he paces behind me. I manage a glance over my shoulder to the sight of him moving back and forth like an animal about to be unleashed from its cage. He strokes his jaw as he does, an intensely dark and dominating vibe about him.
My nerves flutter even deeper. My curiosity piqued.
“Why, Phi? Tell me,” he demands.