Page 116 of Thin Lives

He always did give her just what she wanted.

When she finally came, she bit down on her own fingers to keep from crying out.

Calisto wasn’t far behind—holding her waist as he gave another punishing thrust, then one more, and she felt him fill her full in ropey streams.

Emma wanted to ask him to stay, to hold her for just a few minutes. She knew that she couldn’t. He shouldn’t have even left the downstairs to find her.

“Go,” she told him, her voice shaky.

She felt his eyes close and his frown grow against her neck.

“It’ll be over soon,” he promised.

Emma hoped so.

“Go,” she repeated.

He did, giving her one quick kiss that still managed to linger even after the bathroom door shut behind him.

Emma hid around the corner of the entryway of the large living room, staying just out of sight. Her legs felt weak, and her fingers stung from where she had bit into them, trying to keep quiet while Calisto fucked her in the bathroom.

She could still feel him.

Between her thighs.

His fingers digging into her skin.

Bad, dark promises whispering into her ear.

She couldn’t dare rejoin the party because people would know. All they would need to do was take one fucking look at her, and they would know what she had done.

There was no hiding her messy hair, her smeared lipstick, or the crumpled mess of her dress.

Affonso was distracted—drunk.

Stupid man.

Maybe she should have ran straight upstairs to shower and change; hiding all the proof of yet another moment of her weakness and infidelity, but she didn’t. She couldn’t help but watch Calisto leave, as she knew that’s what he was about to do.

How much longer was she going to have to wait?

Emma was tired of walking on eggshells, of being afraid.

She wanted Calisto—why couldn’t she have him?

She hadn’t chosen the marriage.

Emma’s gaze was drawn across the room to where Calisto approached Affonso, men at his back. He hadn’t come unprotected, and the Irish he brought along had seemed both friendly, and willing to cause enough distraction in the large dinner party that Calisto could afford to slip out.

“I’ll be back, zio,” Calisto said, loud enough for the room to hear.

Silence echoed.

Affonso pushed through his wall of men, making his way toward Calisto.

It didn’t matter—Calisto was already walking away.

Emma couldn’t get upstairs fast enough.