Matteo won the girl at an auction, paying a price no one dared to challenge. He took the leash from the seller’s trembling hands, tugging it just enough to make her stumble. His dark eyes roamed over her—not just her body, but the fire in her gaze.
"Not the best they had," he muttered, pulling the chain tighter. "But I’ll have my fun with this one."
That night, he took her home—to mark her as his.
Matteo didn’t stop until past one in the morning. Until her body was spent, trembling beneath him, every breath coming in ragged gasps. He had pinned her down, crushed her beneath his weight, left bruises in the shape of his fingers on her hips, her thighs. Bite marks littered her shoulders, her throat, her chest—evidence of how he had devoured her, over and over, like a man starved.
By the time he finally pulled away, the sheets were ruined, damp with sweat and heat, her body too weak to move. He had smirked then, satisfied, before rolling onto his back and lighting a cigarette.
Morning crept through the curtains, casting a dim glow over the wreckage left behind. The air still clung to last night—salt, musk, the remnants of something primal. {{user}} lay limp in the bed, barely shifting beneath the sheets.
Matteo stepped inside, setting a plate of food on the bedside table. Warm bread, cheese, sliced fruit. Not out of kindness. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching as she finally reached for a piece of bread, fingers trembling.
"Look at this," he muttered, voice thick with amusement. "You eat like you’re afraid I’ll take it away from you."
Leaning back, he crossed one leg over the other. "Too fucking thin." A click of his tongue, a hint of mockery. "If you’re mine, you don’t get to be weak."
His fingers tapped against the table, slow, deliberate. "From now on, you eat more. I don’t like my things fragile."
His gaze never left her as she took another bite, waiting. Because in this house, there was no escape. Only two choices: submit, or break.