{unedited}
Geneva sat on the long dining table that could seat more than ten. She didn't bother to count the dinning chairs pushed in, kept her gaze on the crockery set for two before her.
It was only the both of them. Marcelo and her. Seated at the center of the table with him directly in front of her, she refused to meet his gaze. Felt it on her and knew without a doubt he had no problem keeping his gaze on her hover long he pleased.
Her hand rest on top of her stitched and bandaged wound inflected by his knife.
Marcelo stabbing her was something she hadn't foreseen nor would have.
The knowledge that he could and was capable of doing so, to her for the mater, made her question why she felt the way she did.
Hurt? Bothered? In between? Both?
Geneva hardened her heart. She didn't think he'd stab her. He had locked eyes with her while doing so.
Did she care because he had buried his huge dick inside her? Moaned and screamed, unabashedly let him know how crazy he was driving her.
She had felt the pain brought about by his stretch, tried to push back from the feeling of having a man so huge fit and full her womanhood like a glove, like they were meant to fit together, regardless how big he was.
Her core didn't stop coating his dick with her juices . She had no control over her body , she was sure she must have drooled at one point . Nothing but what he was giving made sense and her body welcomed it all as though starved.
Marcelo had been a kind of gentle. She had felt him hold himself back. Even when his thick ropes of cum coated her walls and she had somehow caught sight of his wet dick.
He'd been semi hard. Like he could go again at that very moment if she dared insinuated she wanted more.
And as she sat looking at the empty plate before her, her core tightened on its own accord because of the memory.
"Why am I Here Marcelo?"
Her eyes stayed on her stained tune top. The white in contrast with the blood that had spread out. Her blood.
Geneva had dropped to the cold floor and looked up at him as he stood over her. Marcelo had personally tended to her wound with ease of one accustomed tending to stabs.
"You're not going to die amor. Neither will you lose consciousness. Not yet anyway."
He crouched and lifted her in his arms. She stopped herself from fighting him off immediately she felt pain shoot from her wound when she lifted both her arms in attempt to push him off.
"Keep the pressure on it Geneva. You're loosing blood."
Her hand had already returned to the spot and she whimpered when he stood up and begun to move. Tears in her eyes.
Marcelo's actions had mirrored that of a professional health worker when he tended to her. Gave her painkillers and made a joke about how very much alive she was.
She had wanted to ask him to take her to a hospital, worried about infection and her internal organs.
"Nothing bad is going to happen to you amor."
Marcelo had assured and Geneva shut him as she closed her eyes. Prayed to God He'd be the one in charge of her healing.
"What do you want from me?"
Geneva asked again.
Money wasn't it.
He was far from poor. Walked in the dough most definitely. The small parts of the huge mansion she had seen spoke volumes. Vast land and space, unapproachable men taking guard at different points. One look at the security level rendered her escape plan useless. She didn't even have to try.
His men were everywhere on his premises.
So what was it?
It couldn't be for the soul purpose of sex. He wouldn't lack in that department. She wasn't immune to how strikingly male Marcelo was. Her feminine parts and mind attested to that.
The silence stretched and she lifted her gaze and held her breath for a few seconds before she resumed to breath.
His focused gaze caught her off guard. The danger lurked around him, and it didn't help that it added to his attractive demeanor.
Their eyes locked and she looked away first.
She was no match.
He chuckled knowingly.
"Is it a ballet thing? having upright posture most of the time."
She faced him with a frown, took in his words and discovered for herself how straight and upright she held her back and shoulders. Partly because her wound hurt otherwise and she wasn't accustomed to slouching.
What was it to him. He was the cause of her pain. He'd given her painkillers so the pain wasn't an evident factor as such but she wasn't numb to the open area.
"Why did you bring me here Marcelo?"
Her heart tightened. Memory of recent past events played in her mind and she fought the tears that threatened to spill.
The now ever present weight. Loss, grief , condemnation. A huge part her fault.
Had they already told Samuel's parents and family about their beloved's death?
Were they looking for her?
Gabriella...
What was she doing at the moment? Passing her fingers thought her hair repeatedly worried about her? Blaming herself?
If roles were reversed she knew the blame game would be on an all time high and she'd be doing all she could in her power to her best friend back.
Did Dante know? Or was his phone still switched off.
"Where's Dante?"
He observed her for a while in silence and she didn't relent. She wanted to know.
"You think he'll somehow save you? Talk me into letting you go?"
Her heart slowed as he spoke .
" No .. It doesn't work like that amor. I thought you'd know."
Know what.
"I had my eye on you the moment you crossed the living room jamming to music as you jumped over my feet to get a packet of dates."
Geneva traced back to that day.
She had been jamming to one of Sam Smith's recent when she spotted a package of dates on the table and headed for it.
Dante hadn't been in the room and she didn't give mind to the legs she had jumped over to get them despite the enticing male cologne she had caught whiff of.
Thought it was one of Gabriella's friends she didn't know and decided to look and see who it was that had smelled so good.
That's when she meet his eyes that were already on her. Dante had cut the trance with his silhouette and later warned her about who he was.
Marcelo Rodriguez.
" Dante's a smart kid. I'm sure he warned you to stay away. Is that why you kept your distance?"
He leaned forward.
Her words stack as she stared.
"He noticed my want for you. There's nothing he can do. Don't dream."
She wasn't going to let his words detour her determination to find a way out. He brought her to his place for a reason. What? She wanted to know.
"Marcelo please answer my question."
He dragged his chair back and stood up. Her heart rose with him. Eyes followed as he rounded the table and moved towards her .
Geneva leaned more to the side, wanting distance from where he'd stand. Her right side. The stab free area.
She looked up nerved to his close proximity. She could smell him, feel his body heat.
Why was he big and intimidating?
Her body fully attentive she pushed farther to the side and winced because of the wound.
"Do I make you nervous?"
He asked and she swallowed looking elsewhere. She didn't know this man. Him stabbing her showed she couldn't easily predict his next action. She hadn't seen the previous coming. And neither did she the current where he turned her chair and lifted her off then placed her on top of the table the side that was free of the crockery.
Baffled, her hands released his muscled arms and landed flat on the dinning table breathing rapidly as she looked up at Marcelo who's eyes had darkened.
She begun to push back.
"Don't."
He warned and the severity of his tone and stance had her stop instantly. Frightened.
"Not many ask me questions Geneva. The few that do, ask or know to do so once."
He picked up a sharp knife from the table and examined it. Light hit the silver blade and she paled.
Her heartbeat spiked.
His eyes met hers and she remained still. Petrified because of the different man before her eyes.
"I'm not deaf amor."
He grinned and held the hem of her skirt. The knife cut through the material and she felt cold sweat run down her back.
The knife moved forward, cutting the material. She remained still, frightened any wrong movement her end, and he'd knife her.
She didn't want to experience pain brought by blade of a knife. Once was enough.
The purple material parted and exposed her brown thighs. His eyes lingered and she didn't dare to cover them.
His hands on either side of her, on the table, he leaned forward, directly facing her. Acutely aware of the knife in his fist besides her thigh.
"What was the question?"
He asked and she shook her head, breath shaky . His face close to hers she fought the urge to lean back again.
Both her wound and fear a factor.
" nothing?"
She nodded in agreement.
"You suddenly can't speak."
He mused.
"Don't you want to know why I brought you here?"
He was taunting her. Geneva knew he was.
"Marcelo"
Her hands held his arms and she relied on him for support. Marcelo's head tilted to the side interested to see what she'd do next.
She knew not to ask questions again. He didn't have to spell it out for her. So she looked into his eyes trying a different approach.
"I won't ask again. I shouldn't have asked the question more than once. I won't do it again."
She didn't want to die.
A gruesome death was the only thing crossing her mind at the moment and a painful version of it. With the knife he held in his hand a key factor.
He chuckled and leaned close to her ear.
"I'm not unstable amor. Don't ask more than once, I'll answer when I want to."
He leaned back and her hands dropped as he stood to his full height, dragged a chair behind him then sat on it, facing her.
" spread your legs."
Her heart jumped to her throat when he lifted his hand. Light reflected off the silver blade and she thought the worst.
Her mind eased.
He had lifted his hand to scratch the tip of his nose.
Still frightened, Geneva complied and slowly parted her legs.
He widened them for her and told her lay back after bringing her rear close to the edge of the dinning table.
Geneva slowly lay back.
"please don't cut me."
She pleaded once her back touched the flat surface.
" I like your body the way it is amor. I don't intend to cut you."
Marcelo cut her underwear off her body with the knife and she deeply inhaled when air hit her core.
At his pace, he lifted her leg and placed it over his shoulder and held the other in a firm grip.
"How you taste,"
Geneva tried to close her thighs when Marcelo's breath hit her womanhood.
" has been on my mind Geneva."
She only let one man go down on her, and that was her ex.
It wasn't that she hadn't liked the experience, she did, but to her it felt rather intimidate. Spreading her legs for someone to physically join with her was intimidate, she had done that with Marcelo already.
Opening her legs for him to taste her was another level of intimacy for her. She found herself silently panting as his assault on her core begun.
His fingers intertwined with her earlier fisted one that had been on top of her wound. Her fingers locked with his and she held onto his hand tightly as he brought it down with him, holding her in place, an anchor.
Her other hand on the flat surface fisted, unable to grip anything.
Her eyes halfway shut as she looked at the chandelier. She couldn't fight the sensation he evoked from within her core. His skilled tongue on her clit coaxed moans she couldn't hold back from him as her back arched and body coiled in tension.
It didn't cross her mind whether someone would enter and see her in this state nor did the fact that she was spreading her legs for Marcelo next to food take away from the waves of pleasure coursing through.
Him.
And what he was making her feel is all that mattered. And her body nor pleasure focused mind found any repulsion in what was happening.
Her body shook as she came. His mouth kept at it and her moans grew louder. About to start mumbling incoherently when he licked her in finality.
Cleaned her essence with his tongue before he stood and hovered over her frame on the table.
His eyes lifted from her torso and met hers. Making her whimper as she unconsciously closed her thighs. Recollecting her thoughts.
"You're stitches might open if I fuck you . You're so responsive amor."
His eyes held hers. Their hand where their fingers Interlocked was placed besides her head as Marcelo sensually licked his lips while holding her gaze. His eyes dark.
Marcelo pulled her into a sitting position and she winced at the effect the change in position brought onto her left side.
"You must be starved."
His head dropped besides hers as his breath fanned her skin.
He remained that way for a moment before he spoke.
"I hope for your sake you know better Geneva. I wouldn't want to stab you again in the same area."
His hand on her bare thigh moved making her breath hitch he pushed it between the space she had left and slowly pushed two of his fingers inside her warmth.
"I want to fuck You all daylong Geneva."
His words made her stiffen.
"Earlier was nothing."
He informed as he removed his fingers and proceeded to suck them clean.
~
Sleep didn't come easily for Geneva as she lay alone in Marcelo's large bed .
He had business to attend to. Not clueless what kind, she simply nodded. Grateful she'd have time to herself.
Marcelo had watched her eat. She would have rather chosen to starve but she was already frightened, on edge and her body needed food.
She didn't know how to feel, what to expect, Why she was in his home, what he intended to do with her. She knew nothing and the gloomy and nervous feelings that accompanied the state of being clueless were at her neck.
She hated her situation.
But she'd be strong because she knew not all hope was lost. She had people that'd look for her besides her parents .
No matter what Marcelo said about Dante, Geneva knew deep within, that he'd do all he can to try and help get her out.
And as for Samuel,
She couldn't forget. It tagged from deep within. His death that been brought about by her own hand in Marcelo's. Shot with his gun before her very own eyes.
She couldn't do anything. She tried to tell him to say otherwise.
Geneva confirmed herself for not setting things right with Samuel.
She carried the guilt and repented for her mistake repeatedly. Prayed for his parents and family's forgiveness. Because she played a part in it.
She tried to fight blaming herself for his death but that dark voice would whisper, ' it was all her fault.'
The guilt was heavy and she knew that sooner rather than later, she'd have to face herself.
She leaned back against the headboard, pulled the covers over her shoulder as she shivered and goosebumps spread across her skin.
Tears begun to fall on their own accord.
She didn't want Gabriella or Dante or their family to die because of her as they'd notice her disappearance before her own family.
She didn't want to be the cause of any other's death.
Her head begun to hurt because of how bitterly she was crying.
She remembered Marcelo's reminder about the clothes she'd have to try out in front of him and cried harder.
When Geneva had entered his bathroom after Marcelo left, she had taken in the theme, hands on her arm as she held herself for comfort, suddenly cold.
Took in the marble that went around and enclosed the bathtub, to its side against the wall was a fireplace, the large shower partly enclosed in glass besides the door, the other side led to the large walk in closet that had it's own separate door from the bathroom.
What she remembered purchasing was already hung up, sorted and organized for her. She didn't remember picking out night wear and felt a type of way when she finished cleaning herself in the shower after using products she'd normally use and pulled out a nighty.
The short black lace satin material fit her just right. She questioned if Marcelo had picked it out himself and how he knew her size.
She had rampaged thought the collection and found all of them to be short, non less provocative. Different design and color but not one that would make her look unprovocative.
She should have picked out what she wanted when he told her to.
She should have done so many things different.
Like told Gabriella why she had a bandage around her leg and not brush it off as though it was nothing even when her best friend persisted. They both knew clumsiness wasn't a common mishap in Geneva's routine.
Unbeknown to her at times, she avoided certain things because of the harm associated with them..
Gabriella had been part of the help that encouraged her ease from upright thoughts and useless worrying . Told her to live in the moment, accidents happened and it was part of life.
She got out of Marcelo's bed after wiping her face and put on the robe paired with the nighty.
Walked out of his room and inhaled deeply. Traces of his scent nor the memories of what she had let him do with her behind the closed door.
She spotted a tall muscular male in the hallway.
Debated whether to simply pass him or explain where she was headed .
Close enough, her voice cracked and she cleared her throat and tried again. Asked if the guest room was downstairs and he nodded.
She thanked him grateful he was kind enough to answer her question and wished him a goodnight before she descended the flight of stairs and took the path down a hall.
One she assumed led to the guest room. Any guest room.
She guessed Marcelo had a more than one guest house in his massive piece of land. But she'd dare not try to leave the main house in the dark.
The guards and security dogs around the house and in his premises racked her nerves.
She opened another door at the further end of the hall and smiled from within . Relived to see a bed with grey covers and pillows.
She headed inside and closed the door behind her.
Washed her bare feet and dried them with the white towel already available.
She headed to the bed and entered the covers after pushing the many pillows to the side. Stayed with one large one in her arms as she slept on her right.
Hugged the pillow tight and shut her eyes as tears slipped through her eyelids.
She prayed again. And this time, she also prayed for a way out.
When she woke up, her eyes felt swollen from all the crying she had done.
She succeed in opening them and found the curtains drown open and rays of light peered through and into the room.
The familiar theme of the room registered. She was in Marcelo's room and she quickly sat up. Winced because of the pain brought by her wound on her left side.
Her eyes shifted to the bed then space besides her occupied by Marcelo who was seated and on his phone.
"Good morning Geneva"
He lifted his head from his phone and met her eyes.
" sleep well?"
He asked and placed his phone away. All focus on her.
About to question how she didn't feel him carry her body back to his room, her thoughts stopped when he presented a neatly prepared tray of breakfast and placed it on the bed.
She stared at the perfect sunny side up fried egg on top of the toast , beacon to the side and a glass of juice on the tray.
"Did you prepare this?"
Geneva asked, eying the tray of food and decided to pick up the toast.
"Did you want me to?"
She lifted her gaze and blinked at him.
He had a playful smirk on and she decided to drop the topic as she looked back down onto the food.
Marcelo was handsome. Really good looking. If he wanted, she was sure he could make a female speechless with closeness alone. She was victim.
She bit into the toast and decided to finish it alongside the thick juice offered.
"You don't like your breakfast?"
He asked and she ignored him. Bit into a streak of beacon before he held her chin and made her look at him.
"Don't play deaf Geneva. You just might lose your hearing."
At his words and tone, she chose to answer.
"I don't dislike my breakfast."
He observed her. Chin free and she breathed more at ease.
"What do you normally eat for breakfast?"
He waited for her to speak.
She had no particular type of breakfast she consumed. Normally ate whole grain bread with jam. At times she ate cereal with milk or biscuits and tea. Her breakfast was never a big deal as she found she ate whenever hunger made a strike. She rarely denied her body food unless she needed to . But her body found its own pattern.
She only needed to eat one heavy meal within the day and her stomach wouldn't fuse, usually.
Geneva looked at Marcelo, tempted to ask why he was holding her against her will but she didn't. He had frightened her greatly the previous night. He still frightened her so.
"Bread and tea."
She blandly answered.
Breakfast wasn't an issue. Neither was the well cooked food on the tray. She just had no appetite. She felt hallow, downcast almost. She didn't want to be here. Never had she been held against her will and now that she was experiencing it, she wanted out immediately.
" it fits."
She looked at him and found his eyes on her body. The night robe off and the black nighty that did little to show modesty on display.
Again, she wanted to ask why she was here.
"You picked it. Along with the others."
He grinned and his dark eyes met hers.
"How many lovers have you had Geneva?"
The turmoil in her mind stopped at his unexpected question.
Her mind run to the time they had had sex in the very room and the very recent memory of what had transpired on the dinning table.
One. Her ex.
Did he find her so inexperienced he had to ask her that?
It shouldn't have bothered her but it did.
She didn't want to remember her wealthy bad boy ex and she hated that she was questioning whether she had been good when Marcelo and her had sex.
It had been different. Marcelo was bigger in every aspect, it had been intense for her. So intense she vividly remembered telling how she couldn't go again, didn't want to came hard again . Her body had been shaking with the toe curling pleasure he was giving her. She didn't like the pain that accompanied his size yet she'd welcome it again because of the borderline pleasure that came with it.
"I want to fuck you again Geneva, don't doubt how fucking sexy and amazing you feel around my dick amor."
His hand held her face and made her look at him and she saw his grin turn dark
"I want to know how free you are repeatedly getting naked and dressed before a man.
I haven't forgotten about the clothes you have to try on for me."
She dreadfully remembered his words from before.
"So tell me. How many?"
~
Geneva tried her lack and diverted the question. Asked him to let go of her previous error of not being decisive at the store.
She didn't want to try on the piles of clothes she was sure were waiting for her in a certain room. She dreaded the act prior the moment.
Marcelo didn't let up. He wanted his answer and expressed how serious he was when it came to receiving answers to the questions he asked.
Contrary to him, his questions asked had to be answered. She had no say otherwise. And she told him how many. Had no other option but to . She didn't want to find out what he'd do if she deliberately refused to answer him.
Marcelo let her wash up on her own . He lifted her loose shirt and checked on her wound before he led her downstairs and into a spacious lounge that had a beautiful view of the greenery outside.
Racks rolled in and she turned.
Each rack filled with clothes, a female stood beside each. Geneva knew the clothes weren't few even thought she hadn't counted the number of racks.
" we have all day amor."
Marcelo comfortably on the long grey sofa facing them with a small smirk on his face.
"Marcelo."
His name laboriously left her lips.
She didn't want to do this, strip in front of the small crowd, repeatedly.
"Please Marcelo. Please don't make me do this."
She pleaded, eyes watery as she pleaded for compassion from him.
Marcelo got up from his seat and so did her heartbeat.
He moved and stood very close to her.
"Look at me Geneva."
At his command, she slowly lifted her face.
"We talked about this yesterday amor. If it makes it any easier, they can leave and the two of us remain. Alone."
His last words did nothing to help her case but she nodded her head nonetheless.
"Okay."
She agreed to his words and the women left after he nodded to confirm their departure.
Marcelo returned to the oversized sofa and sat in his previous position.
Geneva fidgeted. Some of the clothes she had to figure out the design, others she had no clue how to put them on.
There were ones she lifted and knew without a doubt wouldn't fit her, Marcelo made her put them on. Reminded her that he had given her choice.
He directed her which pile to put the clothes in. The ones that's didn't fit, the ones that didn't and would be got in her size, the ones she didn't like and the ones she'd keep.
When it came to certain dresses, he assisted with the zip.
Marcelo let her know that the women who had brought in the racks were to assist her but she didn't call for them. Even after he informed that she could call for them if she wanted to.
She was angry, tired, her wound hurt and she wasn't used to the repeat strip show in front of Marcelo.
He had finished zipping the white floor length dress and she turned for him. Her movement stopped when her eyes landed on the person by the entrance. She took in the familiar face that frowned then recognised who she was.
Shock and finally uncertainty as his eyes left hers and dragged in Marcelo's direction.
"Dante."
She wanted to run to him but didn't.
Her eyes settled on Marcelo who was already watching and he chuckled lowly.
"I know you want to go to him Geneva. No one's stopping you."
AN
Thank you for reading 🧶
Your comments and thoughts are always welcome.🙃
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Please note, it's not advisable to remove an object from a stab wound. This could result into massive bleeding.
Incase you're the only person available to help injured person,
https://onlinefirstaid.com/stabbings-victim/