Page 20 of Vicious Impulses (The Capo and Ballerina)
Caelian’s boxer briefs are the final layer separating him from me. Once they’re removed, my eyes widen at the intimidating sight that greets me.
I’ve seen male anatomy before in movies and in school during health and science classes.
But seeing Caelian’s appendage in person—his huge, thick,veinypenis as it stands upright on its own, hard and erect, sucks any air left in my lungs.
He’ll split me in two. There’s no way…
My legs clamp together, and I scoot backward on the bed to put more distance between us.
He chuckles and starts toward the bed. His member swings as he walks, heavy and powerful like the rest of him. Along the way he grabs a bottle of some kind of clear liquid.
“Don’t worry,bella,” he says, his Italian accent audible in every syllable spoken. “I will make myself fit.”
“Caelian,” I warble out. “Please…”
“Please, what? We’re man and wife. This is part of what being my wife entails. Lay back,bella. It will be easier if you relax.”
I do as he says, settling against the mountain of pillows, squeezing my eyes shut.
Caelian’s large, muscled body feels heavy even without any of his weight on me. From the second he climbs over me, balancing himself on one hand, I feel as if I’m being crushed under him. His presence, his mere energy is that overbearing.
My heart pounds away in anxious anticipation.
In the next second, I’m proven right in thinking that his touch is rough and uncaring.
He pries apart my legs. Something cool and slippery trickles over my sex, and then come his fingers, prodding at me.
I grit my teeth and wince at the intrusion. Instant discomfort seizes me. If this is what his fingers feel like…
“So tight,” he mutters, then he leans in for a kiss. He steals my lips with his, kissing me hungrily and sloppily. His tongue jams itself into my mouth and his taste of whiskey becomes mine too. I squirm under him, so upset and appalled by the moment that tears wet my lashes.
And still his fingers poke away at me. A dull ache builds from the inside of my sex. I try to squeeze my thighs together to keep him out, but he only pins one down with his knee.
“You’re feisty,” he says with a chuckle, his warm breath tickling my skin. “I like a little fight. You should be happy I’ve used so much lube. Maybe next time I’ll make you take me without.”
“Caelian,” I grunt, pushing at him.
“Nevaeh,” he whispers, then he kisses me all over again. His fingers leave me, his hands groping my breasts and the rest of my body.
I curl a fist and then punch at his chest and shoulders.
It makes no difference.
He bites my lip and squeezes my breast. More rough touches. More touches laced with callousness and disregard.
A soft cry whimpers out of me at the realization this will be what I’m forced to endure for the rest of my life. A thoughtless, vicious, violent brute that doesn’t give a damn about what makes me feel good or what I want.
The only thing that matters is what he does. What pleasures him.
His hard, hot, thick organ presses up against my entrance, warning me of what’s to come.
“This is about to be heaven,” he says with a cruel smirk. He holds my gaze as he does it, slicking himself in more of the clear liquid he’s coated me with, and then thrusts into me whole.
A silent scream leaves me, my body consumed by a pain I’ve never known.
My mouth drops open and my back arches. Tears flood free. I’m crying as the sharp pain lances through me and leaves me paralyzed, pinned against the mattress.
Split in two. Literally…