It was no longer the fact that she had disappeared from the bed that morning, or that she left without properly telling him, or that she so recklessly disobeyed him. It was the fact that Dio, that filthy motherfucker, had touched her in such a defiling way. All day long he just wanted to take her and cleanse her of his filth, bask her in his scent and leave his marks all over her body. Her skin, her curves, her neck, chin, lips and ears, her breath, her moans and gasps, her trembling body, they were all his and he would not part or share a single piece of her.
Her words were also his undoing. The way she muttered how she was his and that he was the only one she wanted, it made him want to r****h her instantly. He was on the verge of doing it. Had he not heard the desperation in her voice
