A novel of Bound by sins chapter 7
Sorry for late updates….two chapters for the days I've missed.
OPHELIA'S POV
My heart stopped beating, and I wished I had done something crazy earlier, so I would have been pushed out of this family I had gotten myself into. This is a bloody crime family, and I am in the home of one of the most dangerous mafia families and in the arms of the blood of them who had just raised a gun at his father.
“Get the hell away from me, please.” I don't know if that was a plea because I said that in tears, hoping he would stop tormenting me.
“You look pretty like this, and I want to take all you can give from this angle.” He said softly, and the ripping of my gown from the waist part was what I heard. “I would have loved it if our daughter had used this, but it is stained with your sweetheart's blood already.”
“I want you to see you bare, swollen and needy.” His voice was husky, and the urge to clench my thighs together was overwhelming.
I don't know what difference this makes me from a whore who openly admits to being one. He was still a stranger! I knew nothing about him except the fact that he was a murderer. I wondered if other men had bent me over their bed like this, would my body still burn this same way. I never felt this way when Klaus tried talking dirty with me for the first time. I had even warned him to back off, which he did, unlike this beast who was unwrapping a new sensation in me like Santa's presents.
Air kissed my lower body and it hit me. I was close to being bare for him. 'He had ripped off my dress.' and he took the now turned rag off me. My buttocks were covered in white lacy pants all bare for him to see, down to the garter belt that hugged my thick thighs.
I wanted to punch the bed to swallow me in. I dragged my legs from the chains, I pulled hard on my wrist, so I could cover my virtue, so this man didn't see what was meant for Klaus “Let me go,” I spat, “I would stab you even though it's not today if you tried anything stupid.” Like I was talking to nothing but the air.
He got up from the mattress, moving to a drawer as he fetched something which I didn't get to see. 'You would love everything I do to you tonight baby.’ He came to stand at the other side of the bed.
I jerked, tears streaming down my eyes, but a much louder cry left my lips, as his hand came hard on my ass cheek, over and over, until I cried in both pain and something else that made my lower half tear up with the heat and ache that cursed through it “You fucking whore, you love that.” He whispered against my ears and I gasped into the king mattress.
He had called me a whore, and yes I deserved to be called that, but should one's husband have said that to his wife? “I don't want this..” my voice was barely a whisper and I knew he heard, but he didn't stop nor reply.
“You have never been spanked there or touched here.” His finger caressed the crevasse of my ass against my panties, bringing it down to my most intimate area, and I couldn't help back a moan this time “Ahh..” and I regretted it feeling like a bitch again.
“You are wet.” I gasped as his finger lingered a little on my cunt.
“Stop this insanity please..” I pleaded in hot breath and I heard a light chuckle from him.
“I would love to see you lose your sanity with me too, baby.” His fingers fiddled with the hook of my bra, as he pulled them apart, letting the straps fall down my arms and my round boobs dangled free.
I couldn't see what he was doing. I wished to turn to curse at him more, but my head was bent to the left while he stood at my right side. “Baby, you are so fucking perfect, so perfect, so mine.” He released his finger from my lower half and my body grief for loss of contact.
He hikes my chest up further, before his hands begin tracing down from my collar bone to the middle of my breast, tracing a feathery touch before he stops at one of my mounds, and I almost disappeared into the burning sensations calling out for me as he caught my pebbled hard nipples in between two dangerous fingers “No…”
““Yes,” he whispered huskily, as he squeezed my nipples between his fingers, pulling away with a flick. Then, covering my mounds with the rough palm of his, the hand which had just held a gun to murder was on me, keeping me on the verge of insanity.
I was new to this feeling my body was going through. I wanted this strange feeling of feeling his hands all over me, but even with that, I was a lady born of honor. I won't spill through my mouth what my body wants, I won't go astray because of burning desires.
“You like that, don't you?” His voice, which I loathed, became so good in the ears.
“No…” my voice came out more like a whisper and a loud cry tears from me and a harsh slap came on my buttocks “Don't play with me Ophelia, you love everything I do to you baby?”
“You are cursed, you are sick..” I tried turning my head, but he had placed me in a position where my neck felt stiff to do so. “I hated you from the last marriage even when I had no idea of you where, and I hate you in this one too for taking me away from my loved ones and the man I lo….ahh”
I had no idea of how fast he was, with a force that almost made me lose my neck, he turned my head harshly to meet his cold gray eyes just before I could complete my words and my heart drowned in fear, but I didn't let it show on my face “You don't love him!!” His voice was low yet cold.
The urge to bury my fist in his rock hard chest and face even when I knew it wouldn't do anything was biting as hell “I was going to, something I wouldn't feel for you even though you made me starve here.” I said hurriedly before he would do something to cut me off again “I hate you Hus Band or the motherfucker who shares the last name with a crime family.”
A smirk that spoke of the devil stood on the corner of his lips, and I could feel his anger burning through him and I thought he was going to cut my head off at that moment. “It's time to go punish your sister for giving you that present.” My breath got caught in my throat and the look of shock stood on my face as he straightened himself, his hand which I had drawn the knife on dripping with blood.
“Yo..you won't do anything to Elise.” My voice softened all of a sudden.
“Since we can't enjoy our wedding night as a couple, it would be nice to satisfy my itching hand with a blood spree.” He said, leaving me as the broad back made for the door.
“I…I am sorry, I will let you do anything you want to me, I..” he was out of the door, not bothering to listen to me, not bothering to untie me.
“I am sorry.” I wished my scream would get to him, as I burst into tears.
Chapter 8
CALLUM'S POV
I walked to the bar in the living space and poured myself a glass of scotch “You look like shit already.” I turned to find Zaleo sprawled on one of the couches, giving me a smug smile as his gaze moved to my bloody hand, which was clenched tightly on the glass. “I wonder how you'd look after months.”
“I'd be better than you,” I replied to him with a smirk.
“You won't; I can sense the weakness already; a woman like Helena would have been better….” As soon as he completes his words I flung the bloody knife, Ophelia had used to him and he was swift catching it close to his eyes “Helena would have been better, you just wanted her pussy, but I feel you want more with Ophelia which is really bad.” He repeated.
“Father sent you to convince me to divorce Lia Huhn?” I looked away from him, downing the glass in one go.
“How would I convince someone who broke out of a mental asylum?” Zaleo teased, “If it had been another woman who had done this, you would have snapped her neck; Bella had done nothing before you tightened a chain around her pretty neck.”
“Return the damn knife to the owner,” I said with a little bit of anger in my tone, remembering what Ophelia had done and said.
“Where is the box?” Zaleo was a great observer, he had informed me earlier about my wife's sister giving her a knife as a present, and I don't care to know how he fucking knew.
I walked up to him, throwing the box into his lap, and he scoffed, twirling the little box in his hand. “Sly,” he stated before getting on his feet, “She might stab you at night, but she would surely get her revenge for her sweetheart. Be careful, brother.” He pats my shoulder before he walks past me. “Father wants a new wedding.” He added before taking the exit.
I scoffed, if that old man thinks I would abide by any of his rules, he must be fucking joking.
Running away from rehab was true; one of my darkest pasts of being locked up with crazy humans like me. I did that because I wanted someone; I was locked up because I wanted and fought for that person at the age of eighteen when my father forced me to high school, and I was in my junior year while she was in senior year.
The lady that made my heart throb, my damn head in an unusual turmoil, Ophelia Laurent, and that was when my obsession began. The urge to own her when she had come to meet me in the school detention room after father had sent his men to hit me for breaking a boy's nose and jaw because the motherfucker couldn't shut his fucking mouth.
Everyone should have been on my side, but even my father felt it was my psycho nature acting up. 'He had a mad son, whom he hated before but wanted like shit now because that son could get blood in his hands without batting an eyelash.' But Ophelia looked like she wasn't afraid of that mad boy when she followed him into the detention room with a first aid box in her hand.
She was short, fucking cute like one of Mom's dolls before she died. Her red hair, which I so much wanted to caress, and I could remember that mind-blowing smile of hers as she walked to where. I sat bloody with my damn ribs broken, but I felt none of the pain. “I. I am Ophelia.“ Maybe she had tried not to be scared as she stuttered in front of me, and I barely gave her a response, with blood trickling down from the corner of my lips.
“Yo..you are hurt, I..I can he..“
“Did my father or the teachers know you are in here?“ I know Father won't ask me to be treated; heal by yourself. That was his own rule as a made man. Psycho or not; none of his sons has seen the walls of a hospital. 'Women had a lot of crazy privileges.'
When I got shot for the first time by his rival who wanted him dead, Father made me pull the bullet out on my own and made me stitch it up bloody.
Ophelia shook her head and told me she had seen when I got beaten up on the field. If she had known what I did to deserve that, she would have fled. Even though I tried to be indifferent like always, taking her by her pretty little neck and getting a look of fear on her face, she scampered off and sneaked back into the detention room with a plate of cookies.
Wanting to become friends with even a fucking viper was her thing; she was a free bird, a daughter of a bloody bastard who saw his daughters as stocks. The mother fucker I almost broke his nose when I saw him yelling at Ophelia when he came to pick her up from school.
Ophelia had softened something in me for her only. She had done what the therapists my father had asked to guide me had never done, always treating me like I was some kind of fucked up puppy. So I murdered five, including the two females at the Rehab who had tied me with chains like the devil and had injured a total of seven, rendering most of 'em comatose.
If only Ophelia had left me in that room, if only she had never come and had treated my injuries giving me her heart-shaped cookies, just if only she had never asked to be my friend I could have been more sane than keeping her hostage five years ago and killing her little sweetheart now.
During classes where I would sit like a usual lifeless loner with kids younger than me. Ophelia would come in with her candies, giving me one before she left, and I would miss her like crazy. When it was lunch hour, she would make sure I came with her to the rooftop and talked for hours even when I had no interest in replying, just loving her presence and innocence.
Our bond grew stronger, I felt closer to her, she felt and smelt like the home I never had and I could reply even with a word to her hundred of words, she could let me caress her hair fondly while she ruffled mine with her soul-calming giggles. But the sweetness of life ended when I had caught the lunatic of her uncle raising his hand to slap her in the principal's office, and hell broke loose that day Ophelia had found out she had been playing with nothing but a Rottweiler.
I had beaten the man bloody, stabbed him in the side of his abdomen with a pen, and buried a lot of staple pins in his body, not even the principal nor the teachers were able to stop me but the silent cries from the already shivering Ophelia who had watched her friend grow from a Chow Chow to a beast.
That's when I felt my first ache; it ached like crazy seeing her cry, and I left her uncle to meet her, but she broke me, moving back, not letting me touch her. I wanted to clean those fucking tears, but she didn't let me even after telling her I was sorry for doing the right thing.
As my father slammed the metal chairs into my head, disciplining me in the school, the only pain that almost made me pass out was Ophelia's fear-filled eyes, walking away with her uncle not daring to look me in the eyes.
The fucked up teachers had advised my father to take me to a psychiatric rehab after being violent three times at school, and he listened. I craved to see Ophelia after being locked up; I wondered many crazy things: 'What if she was with another boy?' 'What if she was ruffling his hair and not mine?'