His Control |18+

11| Violated Once Again

Balia's POV

I was soon naked before him. I covered my arm over my chest to hide my breasts from his view. He was yet to turn back to face me. A call had come in seconds ago, and he spoke in low tones with whoever was over the phone.

I felt the morning chill wash down over my body. I was annoyed that he had left me this way, like I was an exhibition or a mannequin waiting for someone to notice it and clothe it. Or otherwise.

I pushed from one side of her foot to the other as I waited for him to gaze upon me finally, and when I heard his phone going to sleep, my heart lurched.

He turned towards me, his eyes on mine as he drank me in. He was expressionless at first, but then his eyes began to rake down my body with painstaking slowness. I stifled a yell of frustration, digging my fingers into my palm and feeling like I could draw blood from my skin.

How could a man upset me this much and make tiny waves of desire course through my veins? It was irritation, and then it was lust and attraction. I hated that I was standing naked before him, but somehow, my body was enjoying the way his gaze slowly fleeted down my body and how he took in details of my body.

His strides were slow, and finally, he was standing before me. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

I couldn't hold my tongue. I was angry. "I'm sure you have other things to do. You wouldn't want it waiting while you ravish me, would you?"

He chuckled, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. I could see every detail and fine line of his face from this proximity. He barely looked like he was his age. He looked younger, and his skin was as smooth as milk. "I like aggressive women, Balia. But you are giving me quite a hard time."

I spread out my arms. "I am not giving you a hard time now, am I?"

"You have your reasons."

"Yes!" I snapped. "Maybe I don't want Tina to come in and see me in this vulnerable position. That wouldn't go well, would it?"

His smile faltered, and it looked like he had been smiling in the first place. His gaze hardened, and he glared at her. "Tina works for me, and it doesn't matter what she thinks or says, get that?"

His fingers had wrapped around my arms in the process. I could feel the strength of his fingers burning into my flesh as he pressed in. I knew there would be a mark there when he took them off.

But he didn't. His other hand came to my face, cupping my cheek softly. The pad of his fingers grazed the skin of my jaw, making my body respond contrary to what my mind wanted. Fucking betrayer.

His fingers pushed the tendrils of my hair behind my ears, and I swear, that was the sweetest fucking feeling I'd ever had in years.

He touched me like I was a piece of China. My eyes nearly fluttered close, but when I remembered that Senna could be brutal when I remembered what he had done to me last night, my eyes remained open. His eyes weren't on mine, but they studied every detail of my face.

"Your hair..." He muttered under his breath. I caught the hint of huskiness in his voice. "Did you change its colour? Strippers enhance or change their features to attract more customers."

The anger that coursed through my body nearly burst out of me. I tried pulling away from him, but his hold on my arm was strong. "I am not a stripper! You know nothing about me!"

He was still for someone who had been so brutal to her. I had forgotten that I was naked. It wasn't until his eyes raked down my body that I realised he had been staring at my breasts.

A wave of shame and embarrassment washed over me. If someone had told me I would be in this compromising situation yesterday, I would have laughed at them and called them a fool. But here I was, standing before a painfully attractive man and taking his bullshit even if I wanted to do nothing but sock him in the crotch.

   "My hair has always been this way. I am not a sex worker, and if you see me that way, you better change your perspective of me because you will be so disappointed!"

   My hair. My mother, before she— before her addiction, had loved my hair so much. She had spent so much to make it have this shine. She used to take care of my hair personally. It wasn't until things started falling apart that she started doing drugs till her father left her for another woman.

Senna's voice came again. "I don't care, Balia," his fingers travelled down to my chin, and he tipped my face to look up to him. His eyes reminded me of a storm. Of the grey clouds that told tales of an impending rain. They were like the gathering grey clouds, sending chills down my body.

He lowered his head and pressed his lips into mine. He took his time, but as time went on, it became intense. His soft lips had started to grind against mine like granite against granite. As much as I loved it, I knew I would have a bruise and a swollen lip later.

His arms curled around my waist, and he pulled me into him, kissing me and kneading my breasts painfully. My face contorted in pain, and when I tried to push him off, he returned with full force.

His breath was heavy against my cheek when he pulled away. "Don't you fight me? You're going to hate yourself if you do. You're going to hate me more if you do."

   "You're being hard on me! You did the same last night!"

   "That's the only thing I know how to do, sweetie."

Sweetie.

It was the way it came out of his mouth like cream. It came out of his mouth like he could lick me up and turn me into candy. He had a hint of Italian accent even if his English was impeccable. I had heard him speak Italiano since last night, and I must admit that was the sexiest thing I'd ever heard.

His fingers travelled down my collarbone, and when I felt the scrape of his finger against my breast, a knock sounded on the door. I jumped away from him, but he quickly pulled me back.

   "Tina is at the door!"

"And who gives a fuck about that?" He snarled. His soft touches had faded and were replaced with rough caresses. His hand was on my breasts, kneading and roughly pulling my nipple.

"Let me go!" I cried out.

He lifted me off the ground and walked me to the large table on the other side of the room. There was a clean rag on the table. He picked it up immediately and stuffed it into my mouth before turning my back against him and pushing me against the table so my hip was arched towards him.

Tears burned my eyelids as I tried to push the rag out of my mouth. But it was close to impossible because he had driven it in really hard. He grabbed my hands roughly and went behind my back. This held me back from making any movements. I struggled against him, but the sound of his palm against my buttocks sent a wave of pain that burned through my skin.

"You're going to stay put, and you're going to keep your voice low!" He said gruffly.

"Hmphh!" My voice came out in muffled sounds.

"Raise your voice, and Tina will know what's happening here. You're the only one who would be embarrassed, so you better keep fucking quiet."

My voice died into a whisper. His lips against my back felt like thorns pricking my skin. How had he gone from being gentle to being this way?

His hand roughly spread my legs apart, pushing me into the table. My hip hit the edge, and pain shot up my head.

"I would punish you for being rude to me, but there's someone wasting time, and we wouldn't want her wondering, would we?"

I wanted to claw at him. I tried to tear his skin off him. I wanted to rip a knife through him. I wasn't enjoying this at all.

I heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, and soon, he was slipping into me, rough and rugged, not minding if I was lubricated enough. And that hurt. It hurt. It disgusted me that he was capable of such.