Scarlett' POV

I lay in the center of the bed, my nerves wound tight as piano wire.

My gaze slipped downward involuntarily, then jerked away as if scalded.

What kind of monstrous proportions were those? What on earth had he been fed growing up?

Fear coiled around my throat like strangling vines.

The sheets beneath me were charcoal gray, their surface slick and cold against my skin—silk? Egyptian cotton? Whatever they were, their extravagance made my entire body crawl with discomfort.

He stood at the bedside, looking down at me from his towering height.

Under the dim amber glow of the wall sconces, his eyes took on a deep honey color, their depths churning with something fathomless and dark, as though he were looking through me at someone else entirely.

"Spread your legs. Let me see what color it is inside."

Heat flooded my cheeks.

Too... too obscene!

But Scarlett, you don't need to feel ashamed of this.

Everyone's just getting what they need. Think of it as a dog barking.

When I didn't move quickly enough, Lorenzo clicked his tongue impatiently and seized my ankles without ceremony, wrenching them apart in one brutal motion.

"Shit!"

Cold air rushed against the most intimate part of me, a place no stranger had ever seen, and I trembled with mortification from head to toe.

Tears welled in my eyes. I tilted my head back desperately, refusing to let them fall.

Lorenzo's fingers dug into the soft flesh of my inner thighs, his tone dripping with mockery.

"Didn't you come here to sell yourself? Can't handle this already? Your husband never did this to you before?"

"I don't have a husband," I said, turning my face away and biting down hard on my lower lip.

That animal Jack didn't deserve the title.

"Oh?" His grip tightened, leaving red marks on the tender skin. "Then who knocked you up?"

What business was it of his?

This bastard who'd bought my body with money!

"Not going to answer?"

Lorenzo reached down and pried apart my buttocks without warning.

"Your pelvis is narrow and small, your mons isn't full enough, your pubic hair is too pale and sparse... tsk, and your clitoris is asymmetrical—ugly as hell!"

"Though that part... surprisingly pink... looks like it hasn't been used much. What, he didn't like fucking you?"

I couldn't take it anymore and instinctively clamped my legs together, only for him to force them apart again.

Piece of shit!

If he was going to do it, just do it—why all this commentary?

Once I had money, I'd knock every tooth out of his smug mouth.

"Fine, don't answer. I'm not that interested anyway."

Lorenzo extended a finger and prodded the slick entrance.

I couldn't suppress the muffled groan that escaped me, my hips bucking upward reflexively before crashing back down onto the mattress.

A strange sensation—part fear, part something unsettlingly unfamiliar—shot up my spine.

"That sensitive?" He licked his lips with excitement.

Yes, I hadn't had sex in a very long time. This was a normal reaction. Nothing worth mocking.

I clenched my teeth and said nothing for a long moment.

His finger stopped hesitating. Using the minimal natural wetness my body had produced, he pushed inside slowly but forcefully.

Pain.

The clueless boy didn't even know to use lubricant first?

"So tight."

The bastard kept switching fingers, rotating them slowly, exploring inside me.

"It's like you've never been broken in. How did your man fuck you before—was he inadequate?"

I turned my head away, fixing my gaze on the expensive floor lamp in the corner, biting my lip until I tasted copper.

I don't know how long it lasted before Lorenzo finally withdrew his fingers with a faint, sticky sound.

Before I could feel any relief, my body was roughly flipped over.

"Get on your knees. Ass up."

I obeyed.

In that moment, I felt I was no longer Scarlett O'Brien.

I wanted to leap up and punch him square in the face.

But when I closed my eyes, Mia's and Nina's pale little faces floated into my mind.

For them, Scarlett. Don't you dare lose control.

Behind me came the soft rustle of fabric, then his young, burning body pressed flush against my back.

Having not experienced an orgasm since becoming pregnant, I shuddered involuntarily.

Lorenzo's hands came around to my chest—not caressing, but grabbing and kneading with punishing force, handful after brutal handful.

"So much milk. Must be uncomfortable, all backed up like that, huh?"

"If I squeeze harder, will they explode like balloons?"

"Can you make them stand up on their own? Cow!"

Cow?!

I trembled with rage, burying my face in the pillow and grinding my teeth.

Dog!

This rutting dog who only thought with what was between his legs!

From his build, I clearly couldn't win in a fight. I chose forbearance, breathing deeply over and over, swallowing down all the fury and humiliation.

He offered no foreplay, no tenderness whatsoever.

Something scalding and rigid pressed against the entrance his fingers had barely managed to open, and without any pause, he drove in to the hilt.

"Holy shit!"

My vision went black. I nearly passed out.

It felt as though my body had been split open by a red-hot iron rod.

I arched my back, fingers clawing desperately at the sheets beneath me, guttural whimpers of agony tearing from my throat.

"Fuck... so goddamn tight..."

Lorenzo panted heavily above me but didn't move immediately, instead staying buried inside, feeling my inner walls spasm frantically from the pain.

"Relax. How am I supposed to move when you're clamping down like this?"

Tears streamed uncontrollably down my face from the pain.

"Relax? You fucking try it!"

"It hurts like hell! Fuck! Stop—fucking stop!"

His hands clamped around my waist, and he began to thrust slowly.

Each withdrawal felt like he was dragging my flesh out with him.

Each thrust slammed brutally against my most vulnerable spots.

I convulsed from the pain, tears falling in heavy drops onto the bed, my body forced to rise and fall with his savage rhythm, stripped of all dignity.

"Moan! Like a... like a cat—higher pitched, sweeter!"

Lorenzo's palm cracked down hard on my ass. "Don't lie there like a corpse. I didn't pay money to fuck the dead."

I bit down hard and forced words out from deep in my throat.

"Big... so big... you're hitting the end! You're... you're amazing!"

This brute who only knew how to use force!

But my voice came out too coarse, the tone wooden, like a honking goose or duck—not remotely appealing.

He bit my ear in displeasure.

"You don't even know how to do this?"

I wanted to spit in his face.

Making so many demands in bed—how did his girlfriend tolerate him?

Suddenly, a warm, familiar liquid spurted uncontrollably from my chest.

The milk I'd been holding all day, triggered by the violent motion, came gushing out.

Pale white fluid soaked the space where our bodies pressed together, matting both our pubic hair into sticky clumps.

Would he find it disgusting? Would he shove me away, call me revolting?

Lorenzo didn't.

Instead, he extended a fingertip, collected a bit, and brought it to his mouth.

"...Sweet."

I stared at him in bewilderment.

His pupils sharpened with an intensity that looked ready to devour me alive.

Instinctively, I tried to pull back.

Too late.

"Wait—wait a second!"

I cried out, reaching up to push against his shoulders.

"No, don't—"

I couldn't suppress the lewd moan that escaped me, my hips writhing uncontrollably, my fingers tangling in his hair.