Chapter 98 Used
ARYA’S POV
The heavy iron door groaned open, and the harsh, flickering torchlight flooded across the damp stone floor of my cell but I didn’t look up.
My body was heavy with exhaustion and I wasn’t even sure how much time had passed. A part of me didn't care anymore.
But the smell of expensive cologne hit my nose first and I looked up to see Giovanni stumbling in.
He looked like a mess, his way was scattered like he had run his fingers through it too many times and his eyes were glassy and bloodshot.
I realized then that he was drunk.
“You,” he slurred, pointing a trembling finger as the door slammed shut behind him. “This is all your fault, you know that? Ruining everything with your stupid family. If you weren't such a burden, none of this would've happened.”
He was close now and I shrank back against the rough wall. “Giovanni, you’re drunk-“
The back of his hand connected with my cheek with a sharp crack and my head snapped to the side. A whimper escaped me before I could choke it back.
He laughed, and lunged forward, his hand clamping around my arm and dragged me up, my bare soles scraping against the cold floor.
“Maybe I’m drunk but it’s all thanks to you. You drive me to it, you filthy little mistake.” His breath reeked against my face, as he shoved me toward the center of the room, my knees buckling on the uneven floor.
His free hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back and tears sprang to my eyes, blurring his furious face. Then he threw me down onto the floor and before I could scramble away, his weight was on me.
“You’ve caused me nothing but trouble,” he hissed, his face inches from mine. His fingers went to his belt. “Time you provided some… recompense.”
His cock sprang free, already half-hard and flushed, the sight twisting nausea in my gut.
“No! Giovanni, stop!” I pleaded, pushing at his chest, but he forced my head down until my face hovered inches from him.
“Open your mouth, slut,” he snarled, dragging me closer, the tip brushing my lips but I clamped them shut, shaking my head.
He wrestled my hands above my head, holding them with one of his in a crushing grip. “I said, do it, you ungrateful bitch.”
The pressure on my scalp was unbearable and I knew I had no choice. I opened my mouth, just enough for him to thrust in, but he slammed forward, hitting the back of my throat and making me gag, bile rising as I cried around him.
“That's it, choke on it. You're shit at this! You can't even suck properly, worthless bitch.” His words cut deeper than what he was doing to me.
His hips jerked erratically as he held my head in place while I tried to breathe through my nose.
My hands pressed against his thighs, nails scraping uselessly, but he only laughed, forcing me to take more.
“Are you tired already!?” He demanded, smacking my cheeks roughly. “Take it in, slut!”
I looked up at him but his eyes were screwed shut, his face was crumpled in pleasure and the sight made my heart ache.
Had I truly become nothing to him?
Finally, with a grunt, he pulled out, shoving me away. I collapsed onto the ground, coughing and gasping for air, my jaw aching.
“Giovanni.” I tried to call his name but my tongue wouldn’t cooperate.
My breath came out in harsh pants and the silence of the dungeon was becoming too oppressive.
“On your hands and knees,” he spun me roughly, my face pressed toward the wall.
His hands were on my yoga pants then, ripping it in one violent tear. I felt vulnerable, as he shoved my upper body down, forcing my palms flat against the stone.
“Spread your legs,” he demanded, kicking at my ankles until I complied.
The degradation worsened as he spat on his hand, then smeared it between my thighs, his fingers parting me roughly.
I was too weak to resist anymore but more than that, I hated how my own body had betrayed me.
Shamelessly enough, I was soaking wet and he noticed.
He chuckled darkly as he positioned himself, the blunt head nudging my entrance. “Wet already? Fuck, you like this filthy shit, don't you? My little whore, dripping for it even when you cry.”
“No,” I wept, my body trembling.
He growled, grabbing my breasts. “Liar.” He snarled and slammed into me, stretching me painfully.
A loud scream tore from my lips and I didn’t bother to hold back.
He fucked me aggressively,, each thrust jolting my body forward. The stone bit into my palms, my knees grinding against the floor, but the pain in my core overshadowed it all.
“Scream all you want, no one's coming for trash like you,” he taunted, one hand fisting my hair again to arch my back painfully.
I tried to turn my head and look at him, maybe I would see some fragment of the man I once thought I knew.
His hand came up, fingers digging into my cheek, forcing my face away, pressing it into the hard ground.
“Don’t you look at me,” he snarled, his pace becoming even more aggressive. “You don’t get to see me. Sluts get fucked from behind, you hear me!”
His hand came down hard on my ass, again and again, and I yowled in pain.
“Please!” I cried out but he growled.
“Shut up!” He hissed, slamming his cock into me even harder. “This is all you’re good for… cheap, dirty fucking!”
The realization crashed over me then. Giovani saw me as nothing more than a vessel for his rage. I cried harder with every brutal slam and my body clenched around him despite myself.
The pleasure in my belly tightened until I couldn’t help it anymore, my orgasm crashed over me but it wasn’t pleasure, it was a deep shame.
He followed soon after, pulling out with a guttural curse as hot spurts landed on my back. I slumped to the filthy floor, my body trembling violently as I heard him zip his trousers.
A glob of spit landed on my bare shoulder and he leaned down, his whiskey breath hot on my ear.
“Cunt.” He hissed and then he was gone.
The door clanged shut, plunging me back into near-darkness.
I lay there, filled with a pain so intense it felt like my very soul had been ripped out and left on the cold stone beside me.