Page 57 of Explosive Union

I nod in complete understanding. The Clann is the same way. The only differences that separate us is the fact that by family, we mean everyone, blood and made.

His lips crash against mine, and I can’t hold back the moan when his tongue sweeps into my mouth. The sound of crinkling paper has me swallowing hard, trying my hardest to ward off the memories that are trying to flood my brain.

His lips move to my neck and his hands skim down my body. He slides into me and releases a strangled groan.

“Fuck,” he snarls. His hands tighten on my hips, and he slams into me. Going deeper than anyone before him.

I wrap my arms around his neck and meet him thrust for thrust. I cling to him, just as I am the last bit of my sanity.

Every time he hammers into me, I moan, clawing at his back. I’m loving having him inside of me, but at the same time, the memories of the past are beating down on me, ready to destroy everything within seconds.

His pace picks up, as does his grip on me. Bile rises in my throat as he grunts, his climax close.

God.

I shake my head and tighten my hold on him. I can do this. I chant to myself. Trying to bring myself back to the present, but it’s so damn hard. Five years of abuse have filled every single inch of me.

My breath shallows as his hand snaps around my throat.

“When I’m inside of you,Principessa, you think only of me.” His hands tighten slightly, pulling my gaze from the memories to his dark orbs that hold danger and darkness. “Fuck that. You’re mine,Mia cara. Mine.” His hips piston as he thrusts deep inside of me. “I find you with anyone else, and, baby, I’ll gut them.”

I glare at him. He’s never going to change. Everything is about him.

“Whatever you say, mo chroí,” I snarl, calling him my heart, just as he did me, letting him know that it means nothing. These stupid pet names mean fuck all, as neither of us have any feelings other than lust for the other.

His lips twist into a snarl, and his thrusts get harder and harder. I’m clinging on by a thread. He’s punishing me, letting me know that he’s in charge.

“You’re. Not. Putting. Those. Fucking. Walls. Back. Up,” he rumbles, and with each word, he pistons his hips, fucking me brutally hard.

I moan, my pleasure once again building. His pace is relentless. It’s as though he’s as desperate as I am for this to be over. His grip on my throat becomes suffocating.

“Enough,” I snap. I can’t do this shit anymore. I should have known from the get-go that I wouldn’t be normal. “Shut the fuck up and finish,” I grind out.

There’s no way in hell I’ll ever let him see what’s really going on. While he infuriates me like no other, he sees me as a woman, one he’s attracted to. And we’re going to be married. I don’t want anything to change that, and if he finds out that not only have I been raped, but that I’m struggling to deal with it, I’ll not be that woman to him anymore.

His fingers relax around my neck, and he flexes them.

“Mia cara,” he murmurs, his thrusts going deeper. “Look at me,” he demands, his voice soft but filled with authority.

My gaze searches for his, and the worry in his eyes pierces a piece of my heart.

“Bella,” he breathes. “Just look at me.”

I stare at him as his thrusts get deeper and slower.

“That’s it, Mia cara, don’t take your eyes off me.”

This is a side to him I’ve never seen. The soft, worried, patient man. It’s not a side I thought he had, but he does.

I gasp as my body bows and I crack. My orgasm that was building hits me like a ton of bricks and ignites. I detonate around him, unable to stop the cry that falls from my lips. His name is a prayer as I do.

“Fuck,” he grunts as he pushes inside of me, stilling as he hovers above me. “Nothing better,Mia cara. Nothing better than you,” he says as he comes.

I swallow back the tears, unsure of how to react to what’s just happened. Thankfully, Rocco pulls out of me, causing me to wince, and rolls onto his side. It gives me the breather I need.

But it’s too late. The air around me tightens, and my breathing shallows to the point my vision starts to blur. I need to get away. I need to be alone.

I slide out of bed. “You got what you wanted. You can see yourself out,” I gasp, my feet moving toward the bedroom door. They’re heavy, almost as if they’re made out of lead. My entire body is quivering.