Raw Bloody Power

Chapter 50

50

THESE VIOLENT DELIGHTS…

Ivory

I feel him at the doorway long before he moves, watching me slip out of the white lace dress I bought specifically for the rehearsal dinner. Mentally, I’m trying not to freak out. If he ate even but a few bites, he’ll be out soon. I’ll throw on a movie and at some point, he’ll suffer through either cardiovascular complications or respiratory issues, maybe even some gastrointestinal problems.

In a perfect world—all of the above.

On the outside, however, I’m cool as a cucumber, pretending I’m none the wiser to his presence as I toss the dress onto my bed and reclaim the silky pajama top I pulled from my closet. Benedikt allows himself into my personal space, looming behind my half naked form like a predator waiting to strike. Warning bells clang furiously in tandem with the way my skin crawls as his lips skate along my shoulder .

“I don’t think you need that,” he purrs, tugging the garment free from my hold.

“Benedikt…” His name leaves me on a breath. “What are you doing?”

Kissing his way back the way he started, he winds my hair around a fist and gently yanks my head aside, teeth sinking into the slope of my neck. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Like you’re trying to start something we’re going to have plenty of time to do tomorrow night,” I force out with a titter, gasping when he presses me against him and his hard-on nestles between my very exposed ass cheeks.

“Mmm. Why put off tomorrow what you can do today? I want you now.”

No. No, no, no.

“But… But I’m not wedding ready yet.”

The deep laugh that rumbles in his throat sends a dreadful shiver racing down my spine as he skates a hand down my stomach to the edge of my panties. “Do you honestly think I give a shit about hair, Ivory? I’m a grown ass man.”

Just die. Just die. Please just keel over and fucking die.

Before his fingers can so much as sink beneath the thin fabric, I whirl around in his embrace and wind both arms around his neck, slapping on what I hope appears as a wanton smile. “Let’s take it slow tonight, okay? We just started over, and I want our first time to be perfect.”

Benedikt reveals those dazzling white teeth, but the gesture doesn’t touch his eyes. “Still a cocktease, I see,” he jeers, stalking me backward until the backs of my knees hit the mattress. “Puts her pussy in my face, begs me to fuck her, promptly stops talking to me. Claims she wants to start over, lets me cop a feel while she’s pressed up against me, only to tell me she wants to take it slow. You’re the ultimate cocktease, you know that? Do you give Guerra the hot and cold treatment, too, or are you only like that with me?”

My blood turns to ice at the venom now laced in his tone as he utters Rio’s name. “I told you, he’s out of the picture.”

“Sure, yeah,” he laughs again. “Did you poison him, as well, or was that also an only me thing?”

The vial of aconite appears in my line of sight, trapped between two of his thick fingers. There’s no restraining my eyes from widening as he spins it around, my heart lodging in my throat, each breath coming faster than the last.

Thump.

Tha-thump.

Tha-thump.

“Where did you get that?” I whisper.

“Rolled out of your purse when it fell on the floor. Good thing I saw it before shoving a forkful of your delicious gift in my mouth,” he leers, seizing my throat in a bloodthirsty vise. “I just have one question for you… Did you really think you could put me down?”

My purse.

That was the thump I heard.

I don’t answer. I can’t. The strength of his grip alone renders me speechless. Feels like I’m right back in that alley, my lungs screaming for air as his palm crushes my windpipe.

“You’re insanely beautiful, Ivory, and I will have this delectable body of yours,” he slaps my ass— hard, “but your feminine wiles and that Oscar-winning performance didn’t blind me to the obvious like you’d hoped. It’s a shame, really. I could’ve given you the world, but you made the wrong choice—not once, but twice. I hope Guerra is worth the price of your life.”

I’m shoved onto the bed a blink later, his taut, formidable frame crawling over me as the extent of his words sink in. Unbridled fear threatens to cripple me, but Rio’s voice resounds in my head like a beacon, urging me not to cower. He’s been with me since Benedikt and I left the restaurant, keeping me calm, level-headed, willing and able to do what needed to be done. And I was, but now I’m failing.

No. I already failed.

Not only did he go without ingesting a drop, but he also found the evidence. My own witless fault. In my haste to get the cake finished before he picked me up for the evening, I tossed the vial back into my purse where I’d retrieved it from rather than the trash.

Though I suppose, based on what he just revealed, the cake would never have worked anyway. He knew my act was just that—an act. Had I started sooner like I knew I was supposed to, making myself more amiable, more available from the moment I came up with the idea to leave Rio out of this, perhaps it would’ve worked. How could I have been so stupid, so damn naive to think I was good enough to pull this off the night before? That my looks and a few sensuous kisses would enrapture him enough to fall into my trap?

I fucking failed.

“Benedikt, please…” My voice trembles as I scoot further toward the headboard, a sight he must love as those ravenous blue eyes darken all the more.

“Buck up, malish. You wanted to be a bad bitch? Be a bad bitch. But don’t play with fire if you can’t handle the devil.” Belt. Button. Zipper. He sets his cock free, an act that scrapes a petrified lump down my dry throat.

God, no, please. No.

“I have neighbors,” I warn him, involuntarily whimpering when he yanks me where he wants me and rips my legs apart. “I’ll scream.”

“Oh, I hope you do. Just gonna make it that much more satisfying when I finally shove that cake down your throat and silence you for good,” he growls menacingly.

My panties?

Gone.

He rips them off my body like they’re nothing more than a piece of floss and crudely spits into his hand, using it to coat his length. A few simple strokes above my now paralyzed form and he shoves his way inside me. I cry out just around the thick tip alone, every nook and cranny of my being swelling with disgust as he ruts out. The last time I remember feeling like this was with Jonathan—and this is so many shades worse.

“Jesus Christ, so goddamn tight,” he groans, setting his forehead to my shoulder. “I see why Guerra’s so obsessed.”

The mention of him brings his voice back to the forefront and springs me into action. Move, Petal. Fend him off. Scream if you have to, baby girl.

“Get off of me!” I finally belt out, flailing my legs and smashing my palms into his biceps.

“C’mon, malish. Don’t make me hurt you…” He slaps me, open-fucking-handed, effectively subduing me as brusque fingers turn my face to meet his mouth. “At least let me come inside your whore cunt first.”

Tears leak from the corners of my eyes, that’s how hard he struck me. I’m terrified, plain and simple, but my life is very much in danger, and if I don’t do something— I’m going to die.

Weapon, you need a weapon, Rio’s voice whispers.

As Benedikt continues his onslaught, my gaze flicks around the room for anything that could act as a deterrent should I find my way out from under him. When I land on the nightstand just within reach, I grab the lamp without a second though and aim for the back of his head with as much force as I can rally. He roars on impact and rolls off long enough for me to wiggle free—and run.

Down the short hallway.

Into the kitchen.

Grabbing my coat off the chair, I slip it on and visually comb through the contents of my purse all strewn about on the floor. My keys are nowhere in sight. With trembling hands, I retrieve the bag off the floor to search inside… I know they were in here… But then a vehement palm swoops over my mouth, and my keys dangle in front of me, the jingle melding with my labored breaths .

“Looking for these?” he growls malevolently. “You don’t need them. Dead bitches can’t drive.”

In seconds flat, he has me flush to the edge of the counter, ripping my legs open all over again. I have zero seconds to protest, much less react, as he unholsters his gun and brings the cool tip to the apex of my thighs. I squeak and instinctively raise a fist, only he rams the barrel as far inside me as my body will allow, effectively halting me in place around a shrilling caterwaul.

“Move again, and I pull the fucking trigger.”

And as he drags the plate with the fully intact cake slice closer to where we stand, I realize I really am going to die. I disconnected both Rio and Alvaro’s phones from the camera app just before dinner, not wanting them to intervene if they saw him come inside once we got back.

No one knows I’m here.

No one knows I was doing this.

No one is coming to save the day.

Benedikt scoops a forkful of the toxic confection and brings it up to my mouth. “Open. Tell me how good it tastes.”

I don’t. In fact, I smash my lips together, glancing back and forth between him and the utensil.

He doesn’t like that, impelling the steel between my legs further. It hurts so badly. “I said open your fucking mouth, bitch , and tell me how good it tastes.”

I have seconds to seal my fate, both options ending in my demise. Either I oblige and swallow down what was meant for him, or he sends a bullet flying through my body. I’m sure the aconite will not be gentle as it races through my veins, but I’d prefer that to the alternative .

Trepidation stings hot behind my eyes, the dam ready to burst as the awareness truly sinks in. He’s going to kill me. Then he’ll probably go after Rio and my dad. Perhaps my entire family. All because of me. I don’t want him to see me cry, though, so I pop my jaw open and allow him the entrance he seeks.

“Good girl,” he coos, malice bleeding forth from every single pore on his body. “Go on, swallow it.”

Don’t do it, baby girl. Spit it out. He’s not going to shoot.

I want to. No, I want to spit it at his face… but I’m not as strong as the man my heart beats for. I’m not as brave. Not with the piece of steel lodged inside me. Spitting in Benedikt’s face will undoubtedly buy me the shot I was trying to avoid, so I force myself to comply, swallowing down the dessert melting on my tongue.

Then another bite.

A third and a fourth.

Half the slice to be exact.

And as the aconite begins working its way through my system, Benedikt takes full advantage of the time I have left and finishes what he started.

I can feel his cum dripping out of me before he takes the pistol and rams it into the side of my head.