Then he picked her up by her waist, his strength making it effortless, and positioned her above him.
"Dante, what are you...." Isabella started.
He brought her down.
Hard.
Impaling her completely on his cock with a force that knocked the breath from her lungs.
She screamed...a raw, anguished sound....and he began moving her up and down with brutal efficiency.
His hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, controlling every movement, controlling her completely.
"This is what you are," Dante said, his voice cold as ice. "This is all you are. A cunt to be used. A body to be fucked. Nothing more. Nothing less."
Isabella's tears streamed down her face, but her body responded despite her obvious distress. Her inner walls clenched around him. Her hips tried to move in rhythm with his brutal pace.
Because that's what he'd trained her to do. To associate pain with pleasure. To confuse his cruelty with affection.
